Lila's boots banged through Blackmoon Academy's hall entrance, each step a challenge to the stares burning into her. The air was thick with pine and musk, the smell of werewolves, kids milling around, gold eyes cutting through her. At her age, she'd faced worse than rich wolf kids, but the looks hurt, and her fair skin flushed red. She stood tall, no way she'd let them scare her off. She earned her scholarship, and she'd make them eat their doubts.
The registration desk sat at the hall's end, a beta with a clipboard sneering. "Name?" he snapped, eyes on his papers.
"Lila Sinclair, scholarship student."
His gaze shot up, narrowing. "Scholarship? Outsider? Better be tough, alphas don't like weaklings."
She bit back a comeback, signing forms with a hard scribble. Turning, whispers hit her. "Human blood? Why's she here?" "Probably cheated her way in." Her cheeks burned hotter, but she kept moving, corridors like a maze, splitting into dark corners where groups went quiet as she passed. Their laughs followed, sharp and mean, slicing her confidence. She clenched her fists, nails digging into palms, fighting the urge to shout back. These kids, with their fancy bloodlines, thought they were better, but she'd show them. Her scar itched, a faint throb, like it was waking up under their stares.
Her dorm was up creaky stairs that groaned like they were mad. The room was empty, bed, desk, wardrobe smelling of mothballs. Unpacking was fast, jeans, hoodies, some beat up books from library sales. Nothing fancy like the elite kids had. In a dusty mirror, her sharp eyes stared back, red streaks in dark hair, and that moon shaped scar on her collarbone itching again. Was it always this weird, or was Blackmoon messing with her? She touched it, and a chill ran through her, like the scar knew something she didn't. She shook it off, but the feeling lingered, a creepy hint of secrets buried deep.
Lunch meant the dining hall, a huge room with chandeliers throwing shaky shadows. Tables had piles of raw meat, bloody smell turning her stomach. She grabbed bread and fruit, looking for a seat. Eyes tracked her, cold and hungry, some glowing faintly in the dim light. She felt like prey, her heart picking up, but she wouldn't show it. She'd learned long ago to hide fear, even when it clawed at her insides.
Then she saw Sienna Vey, sitting like a queen at the main table, alpha vibe choking the air. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a smirk that screamed trouble. Their eyes locked, and Sienna's lip curled. "Look what the fog brought, scholarship scum thinking she can sit with us."
Laughter cut through, cruel. Lila gripped her tray, knuckles white. "Didn't ask for your okay," she said, sliding into a seat at a nearby table, her back straight despite the knot in her gut.
Sienna stood, stalking over with her crew, their steps silent but heavy with threat. "You don't belong, outsider, this is for real wolves, not strays."
The hall went quiet, tension tight like a rope ready to snap. Lila stared back, heart pounding but voice steady. "Scared I'll outrun you, Vey? Jealousy's ugly."
Sienna's eyes flashed yellow, a growl low in her throat. "Watch your back, Sinclair, fog hides accidents."
A voice broke in, warm but sly. "Chill, Sienna, not everyone bites first day."
A girl slid next to Lila, copper red curls bouncing. "Ravenna Kade, second year beta, you need a friend who's not out for blood."
Lila eyed her, wary but curious. Ravenna's grin felt real, no hidden claws. "Lila, thanks."
Over lunch, Ravenna spilled dirt, her voice low to dodge eavesdroppers. "Sienna's old money alpha, thinks she owns the place, steer clear, and watch Kieran Maddox, he's charming but trouble follows him like a bad smell." She paused, glancing around, then leaned closer. "This place runs on bloodlines, Lila, you're a target cause you're not one of them. Keep your eyes open."
Lila nodded, chewing slowly, the food tasteless under the weight of eyes still on her. Ravenna's words sank in, but so did the vibe of the hall, chandeliers flickering like they were alive, walls whispering with the academy's age. She felt it, a pulse in the air, like Blackmoon itself was watching, waiting for her to slip up.
The meal passed, but leaving, Lila felt eyes again. A tall figure brushed past in the corridor, light skin, broad shoulders, gone fast. A shiver hit her, twisted with curiosity. Was it a student, or something else? The halls seemed to close in, lanterns casting shadows that moved wrong, like they had their own plans. She hurried to the next session, but the feeling stuck, like she was being hunted.
Orientation got wild in the training hall, big with scarred wood floors and tall windows letting in gray light. Teachers showed shifts, bodies twisting, fur bursting out in raw power. Lila watched, amazed but jealous, her hands itching like they wanted to try. Could she ever do that? The thought thrilled her, but also scared her, what if she wasn't human enough, or too human? Her scar pulsed, like it was answering.
After, she wandered the corridors alone, trying to shake the unease. A whisper caught her ear, faint but clear. "Outsider, you don't belong." She spun, but the hall was empty, just shadows and lanterns. Her heart raced, and she quickened her pace, feeling the academy's walls pressing closer, like they wanted to swallow her whole.
Night brought creepy vibes. Alone in her room, fog pressed her window like it was alive. Whispers came back, clear now. "She arrives, the crescent wakes." Her scar burned hot, almost painful. Outside, that cloaked figure stood in the mist, raising a hand like it called her, then gone into the pines. Her pulse hammered. Who was it? Why did her coming stir something old and twisted? She locked the door, but dreams were of running through foggy woods, chased by shadows saying her name with dark promise.
She woke gasping, scar throbbing like it was alive. Blackmoon wasn't a school, it was a war zone, and she was a target. The whispers, the stares, that figure, they all pointed to something bigger, something tied to her scar and her past. She didn't know what, but the academy's secrets were closing in, and she wasn't sure she could outrun them. Lying awake, she felt the weight of the towers outside, their stone eyes watching, waiting for her to crack. She wouldn't, not yet, but the suspicion and fear were eating at her, and the scar's pulse was a countdown to something she couldn't name.