"By the next morning, half the Academy whispered about me and two Alphas."
I didn't need to check the bulletin boards where official Academy announcements were posted, or tap into the complex web of gossip chains that connected every dormitory and classroom. The truth hit me the moment I stepped into the main dining hall and felt the atmosphere shift like a physical blow.
The cafeteria went unnaturally quiet when I walked through the heavy oak doors, hundreds of conversations stuttering to awkward stops before resuming in hushed, urgent whispers. I heard it in the way voices changed mid-sentence the moment I passed close enough for enhanced hearing to pick up their words, conversations pivoting from mundane complaints about homework to speculation about my personal life with surgical precision.
The whispers were definitely louder than usual, carrying that electric quality that meant fresh scandal was spreading through the Academy's social network like wildfire.
"First publicly rejected by her own mate, now she's scheming with his biggest rival."
"Classic rogue-blood behavior if you ask me. No pack loyalty whatsoever."
"She's obviously playing both sides—can't you tell? Probably hoping one of them will claim her out of pity."
"Desperate doesn't even begin to cover it."
I kept my breakfast tray steady in my hands despite the tremor that wanted to shake through my fingers, jaw locked so tightly I was amazed my teeth didn't crack under the pressure. The familiar weight of dozens of stares pressed against my skin like needles, but I forced myself to walk with measured steps to an empty table near the tall windows overlooking the Academy grounds.
I set my tray down with deliberate care, spine straight as a sword blade, eyes fixed firmly on the eggs and toast that suddenly looked as appealing as cardboard. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me flinch, wouldn't let them know that every cruel word hit its mark with devastating accuracy.
But inside, my chest ached with a pain that had nothing to do with physical injury. Every whispered insult was an arrow finding its target, and though I told myself I was used to being the Academy's favorite source of entertainment, the mate bond made everything sting sharper. The connection to Darius amplified each cruel comment until they felt like personal attacks on not just me, but on him by extension—which only made the shame burn hotter.
I told myself they were wrong about me, that I didn't care what a bunch of privileged pack heirs thought about my choices. But the truth pressed heavy against my ribs like a stone I couldn't dislodge: their opinions mattered because they shaped my reality here. In a place where reputation was everything, being branded as scheming and disloyal could destroy any chance I had of surviving until graduation.
A familiar presence slid into the seat beside me with the quiet grace that marked Celeste as someone who moved through the world without drawing unnecessary attention to herself. Her soft brown hair was woven into its usual practical braid, and concern creased her gentle features as she studied my face.
"You can't let them get to you like this." Her voice was pitched low enough that only my enhanced hearing could catch it clearly. "I can smell the stress rolling off you from across the room."
"I'm not letting them get to anything," I said automatically, stabbing my fork into a piece of toast with enough force to scrape against the ceramic plate beneath.
Celeste raised one skeptical eyebrow. "You're attacking your breakfast like it personally insulted your entire bloodline. Which tells me you absolutely are letting them get under your skin."
My lips pressed into a thin line as I caught myself mid-stab, fork hovering over what was left of my increasingly mangled toast. "So what if I am? They've already decided what kind of person I am based on gossip and assumptions. No amount of silence or good behavior is going to change their minds."
Celeste's expression softened with the kind of sympathy that made me want to crawl under the table and hide. "Then lay low for a while. Give them nothing else to talk about. Find some other project to occupy their attention. This will pass—scandals always do when something more interesting comes along."
Lay low. Hide in the shadows and make myself small enough that their cruelty would pass over me like a storm. Shrink myself down until I became invisible, unremarkable, safe in my insignificance.
The suggestion made my pride burn hotter than molten metal in my veins.
"No." The word came out harder than I intended, carrying enough steel to make Celeste blink in surprise. "I won't cower for them. I've already spent too much of my life just surviving, just enduring, just waiting for things to get better on their own. I'm done hiding from people who think they're better than me."
Celeste hesitated, clearly torn between supporting my newfound backbone and worrying about the consequences of poking an already angry bear. Finally, she sighed with the weight of someone who could see disaster approaching but was powerless to stop it.
"You sound like you're actively daring fate to notice you. And in my experience, fate has a twisted sense of humor when it comes to accepting those kinds of challenges."
I forced myself to smile, though the expression felt brittle as spun glass against my lips. "Maybe I am daring it. Maybe I'm tired of tiptoeing around other people's expectations and ready to see what happens when I stop caring about their approval."
The whispers followed me like a shadow when I finally left the dining hall, fragments of cruel laughter and cutting observations clinging to my ears no matter how far I walked. By the time I reached my first class of the day, my nerves felt raw and exposed, every comment replaying on an endless loop in my mind.
But it wasn't just me who had overheard the Academy's latest round of character assassination.
Darius Fenrir's patience had been stretched thinner than wire even before he'd walked into the dining hall that morning. When his usual path through the Academy's main courtyard cut directly through a cluster of Alpha daughters gossiping around the ornate stone fountain, he caught their words like claws raking across his skin.
"She's practically hanging off Wicke's arm now—can you believe the audacity?" One perfectly manicured voice carried clearly on the morning air.
"Absolutely desperate, that's what it is. The little rogue probably thinks if she plays her cards right, one of them might actually claim her."
"Pathetic. As if someone like her could ever be worthy of playing Luna to a real Alpha."
Darius's wolf surged violently inside his chest, fury spiking so sharp and sudden it made his vision flare with golden fire. The mate bond writhed like a living thing, demanding he defend what was his regardless of the complications that claim would create. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles going white as he fought for control over the rage building in his chest like pressure in a steam engine about to explode.
When he finally trusted his voice enough to speak, the words came out deceptively quiet—the kind of calm that preceded natural disasters.
"Would you care to repeat that observation?"
The girls froze like deer caught in headlights, their faces draining of color as they registered exactly who had been listening to their cruel entertainment. Eyes dropped to the ground with the automatic submission shown to dominant predators, and stammered apologies began tumbling from their lips in a desperate cascade.
"N-no, Alpha Fenrir, we didn't mean—"
"We were just talking, we didn't—"
He didn't wait to hear the rest of their backpedaling. He turned on his heel and stalked away, fury simmering hotter with every step that carried him deeper into the Academy's maze of stone corridors. The scent of his rage preceded him like a warning, causing lesser wolves to press themselves against walls as he passed.
By the time he shoved through the door of his morning Advanced Pack Dynamics class, the very air seemed to shift around him. Students straightened instinctively in their seats as waves of barely contained dominance filled the classroom, the weight of an Alpha's fury making it difficult for weaker wolves to breathe properly.
His dark eyes cut across the room with laser precision, sharp and blazing with emotions too complex to name, until they found their target and locked on with devastating focus.
I sat at my usual desk near the middle of the classroom, textbook open and notes spread neatly in front of me in a careful display of academic dedication. I was pretending to focus on the morning's lesson about territorial disputes between neighboring packs, but I felt the heat of his stare before I saw it—felt it searing across my skin like flames that left no visible mark.
Slowly, unwillingly, like a moth drawn to fire that would consume it, I looked up and met his burning gaze.
The world narrowed until it contained only the two of us and the crackling tension that made every other student in the room hold their breath.
Darius's jaw was clenched tight enough to shatter stone, his broad chest rising and falling with the controlled breaths of someone fighting a war against their own instincts. When he finally spoke, his voice sliced through the classroom's shocked silence like a blade through silk—rough and unrelenting and carrying enough command authority to make every wolf present tremble.
"We need to talk. Now."