Chapter One: The Scent of Danger
They say wolves can smell fear.
If that's true, then I must reek of it.
My heart thuds like a war drum as I cross the wrought-iron gates of Silverclaw Academy, my fake ID card clutched tightly in my trembling hand. The moonlight drips silver over the arched stone buildings, gothic and cold, glowing like ancient bones under the night sky.
It's beautiful.
And terrifying.
I shouldn't be here.
Every instinct I have the ones I've spent years suppressing screams at me to turn and run. But I walk forward anyway, boots crunching on gravel, lungs tight, stomach coiled.
I am Lyla Ainsley. But today, I am Lia Grey, the orphaned daughter of no one. A scholarship student from a backwater village. Human. Harmless. Invisible.
A lie.
Because the truth is far more dangerous.
I am not harmless.
I am not human.
And I am definitely not safe here.
"New girl?" a voice drawls to my right.
I flinch, turning toward the source a tall boy with sandy blond hair and an amused smirk. His eyes flash gold. A Beta. Curious, predatory. His nostrils flare subtly as he steps closer.
I hold my breath.
"Didn't think they still admitted humans," he mutters, nose wrinkling as if I smell wrong. "You reek of something... wild."
I force a shy smile. "Must be the nerves."
He laughs and walks off, his posture just a little too stiff. He didn't buy it.
Not entirely.
I pull the hood of my coat higher, pushing my way into the main hall, where hundreds of students werewolves, shapeshifters, and who-knows-what-else are gathered for orientation. The room smells of fur, testosterone, and power.
I swallow hard, scanning the crowd.
So many of them wear their rank like armor leather jackets with pack sigils, wolf-eye pendants, snarling tattoos on visible skin. The Alpha students are obvious. They move like predators: graceful, dominant, coiled with suppressed violence. The crowd parts around them like prey making way for kings.
And then I see him.
Standing near the top of the marble staircase, his head tilted slightly, eyes scanning the crowd like a hunter watching the forest.
Alpha Ryker Vayne.
My breath catches.
He's taller than I imagined massive, muscled, wearing black on black like it's armor. His silver-blue eyes are sharp, cutting across the room until he stops.
I freeze.
His gaze lands on me like a brand.
Something flickers in his eyes. A twitch in his jaw. A sudden stiffness in his shoulders.
Oh no.
He smells me.
The world tilts on its axis. Everything slows. I turn away quickly, heart jackhammering in my chest. Did I forget the suppressants? No, I took the full dose this morning. Every damn pill.
Why the hell is my scent leaking through?
I rush down the side corridor, toward the East Dorms, hands shaking as I fumble for my room key. Room 18A. Second floor. Just get inside. Lock the door. Hide.
My fingers graze the doorknob and then I feel it.
Power.
Not just power, domination.
He's behind me.
Before I can turn, a hand slams against the door above my head. The other grabs my arm, spinning me around. And there he is. Ryker Vayne.
Up close, he's devastating. His face is sculpted and severe, a warrior's jawline and slashing brows. Tattoos snake up his neck and down his forearm runes I don't recognize. His eyes, silver-blue, look almost inhuman in the moonlight.
He leans in.
Sniffs me.
A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest.
"You're not human," he growls. His voice is deep. Dark. Velvet and steel. "What the fuck are you?"
I shrink back. "Let me go"
"Answer me."
His grip tightens, not hurting yet but firm enough that I can't break free.
"I.. I'm a scholarship student"
He snarls, low and dangerous. "Don't lie to me, little wolf. I caught your scent from across the courtyard. Sweet. Virgin. Untouched. And definitely not fucking human."
Heat rises in my cheeks. I want to run. Scream. Cry. But worse than fear is the strange pull I feel toward him.
My wolf, my buried, locked-away wolf stirs.
She rises in me like a tide, pressing against my chest, aching for something I've denied her for years.
"Who are you?" Ryker whispers, more animal than man now. "Why does your scent call to me?"
"I don't know!" I gasp. "I don't know what's happening please"
He steps back. Barely.
Then he does something I never expected.
He drops to one knee.
Claws scratching the wood floor, eyes glowing silver.
"I don't know who you are, girl," he says lowly, voice vibrating with raw hunger, "but my wolf has chosen you."
"What?"
"You're mine."
My knees buckle.
I want to scream that it's a mistake. That I'm no one. That he can't possibly want me. But my wolf is clawing at me from the inside, howling in recognition. She knows him.
And worse?
She wants him.
He rises again, impossibly tall, and leans in until his lips graze my ear.
"From this moment forward, you belong to me."
I tremble.
And when he brushes his nose down my throat inhales I feel it:
Heat. Hunger. Bond.
I whimper. He growls.
And somewhere deep inside me, the Luna I've tried so hard to bury opens her eyes.