The bus rolled to a stop before tall, black iron gates that seemed to breathe with the wind. Mooncrest Academy stood beyond them like a gothic dream — dark spires stabbing the sky, windows glowing faint gold against the early dusk. The air smelled like pine, mist, and secrets.
Nerissa Flair stepped down, her duffel bag slung across her shoulder, boots crunching on gravel. "So this is the mighty Mooncrest," she muttered, eyes narrowing. "Looks like Dracula's vacation home."
Her reflection glared back from the glossy black gates, lips twitching. Well, Nerissa, you made it. Don't screw it up.
A tall man in a charcoal suit appeared on the other side — slick hair, polite smile, but eyes too sharp to be human.
"Miss Flair, I presume?" His voice was smooth, almost too kind.
"That's me," she said, crossing her arms. "You the principal?"
"I am." He opened the gates. "Headmaster Aldric Vale. Welcome to Mooncrest Academy."
Nerissa stepped through, pretending not to notice how the gate closed behind her with a low clang, like a lock clicking shut. The campus was massive, old as sin, with ivy crawling up black stone walls. Everything here whispered power.
"Your records are... interesting," the headmaster said as they walked along a stone path. "You scored unusually high on your admission tests. In fact, you're the only applicant from—"
"The ghetto?" she finished with a smirk. "Yeah, I'm the surprise package. Try not to faint."
He chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Mooncrest values all kinds of talent."
"Even street ones?" she shot back.
"Especially those."
They passed students in dark uniforms — black and white with silver pins. Most of them were ridiculously good-looking. Some stared at her like they'd never seen a new student before; others looked away too quickly, like they knew something she didn't.
Nerissa lifted her chin. "Creepy rich kids," she muttered under her breath. "Probably think I'm the charity case."
Headmaster Vale led her into the main building. The air inside was cooler, filled with the scent of candle wax and old books. Marble floors reflected dim chandeliers. A grand staircase split the hall, leading up into shadow.
"Before we assign your dorm, Miss Flair," Vale said, "there's a small additional evaluation you must complete."
Nerissa frowned. "Additional what now? I already did the entrance test. I even passed your freaky essay about moonlight and souls."
"Yes," he said, "but Mooncrest requires one more... compatibility test. Just a few minutes."
Something about the way he said compatibility made her suspicious.
Still, she shrugged. "Fine. Let's get it over with."
He guided her down a quieter hall, the light dimming the further they went. The sound of her boots echoed like a countdown. Finally, they stopped before a heavy black door with strange runes carved into it.
"This room," Vale said softly, "will test your... resonance. You'll meet another student inside. Don't worry — it's all part of the process."
Nerissa squinted at him. "So, like a group test?"
"Something like that." He smiled again — the kind of smile that belonged in nightmares. "Best of luck, Miss Flair."
Before she could ask more, he opened the door, gently pushing her inside. The door shut with a soft click.
The room was darker than her patience. A single lamp flickered on the desk, casting yellow light over velvet curtains and polished floorboards. Nerissa's instincts buzzed.
"Hello?" she called.
No answer.
She took a cautious step forward. Then she froze.
Someone was sitting in the corner — a boy, lounging like he owned the world. Red hair caught the lamplight, his uniform messy but perfect in that infuriating way. His smirk was pure sin.
"Yo," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You must be the new girl."
Nerissa blinked. "And you must be the reason my anxiety's acting up."
He laughed softly, stood, and walked toward her — tall, lean, confident. Too confident.
"I'm supposed to... test you," he said, eyes gleaming gold for a split second.
"Test me? What, are you the exam?"
"In a way." He stopped just in front of her. "They told me to... see if you're compatible."
"Oh, hell no." Nerissa took a step back. "What kinda freaky school is this?"
He grinned, taking another step. "Relax, beautiful. I don't bite."
She slapped his hand the moment he reached for her. "Touch me again, and you'll find out how fast I do bite."
He blinked, surprised. Then that smirk returned. "Feisty. I like that."
"Yeah, and I like my personal space," she snapped. "Now back up before I—"
She stopped mid-sentence, an idea flashing through her mind.
Compel him.
It always worked on humans — a little flick of magic, a little push of will. Easy.
Nerissa straightened, eyes narrowing. Her voice dropped to that soft, dangerous tone witches used.
"Sit down."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Sit. Down."
He just grinned wider. "Oh, I see what you're trying to do. Cute trick."
Her jaw clenched. "I said sit!"
This time, she pushed harder — the air shimmered slightly, power curling from her fingertips.
Nothing.
He didn't even flinch.
Instead, he leaned closer, eyes glowing faintly red now, whispering near her ear. "You really shouldn't try that on an Alpha."
Nerissa's blood froze. "A what?"
"An Alpha," he repeated, voice a purr. "You know... werewolf."
Her brain stalled. Werewolf? No. That wasn't real. That was—
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and instinct took over.
Whack!
She grabbed the nearest thing — a thick glass paperweight — and smashed it against his head.
The red-haired boy stumbled, eyes wide, then collapsed like a felled tree.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Nerissa dropped the glass, staring at the blood trickling from his temple. "I didn't mean— I mean, technically I did, but—"
She knelt beside him. He was breathing. Thank God.
"Okay, he's alive," she whispered. "He's alive, right? Right."
But what if he woke up? What if he told that creepy headmaster she attacked him?
Her gaze darted around the room. Then she spotted the bed.
"No way," she muttered.
Five seconds later, she was dragging a six-foot alpha by his arms.
"You're heavy as hell, dude," she grunted, shoving him under the bed. "Stay there and think about your life choices."
She sat on the edge, wiping sweat from her forehead. "First day at Mooncrest, and I already assaulted a hot guy. Mom would be so proud."
Nerissa jerked awake to the sound of knocking.
Three sharp taps that made her heart leap into her throat.
She blinked, momentarily confused. The dim light from the lamp told her hours had passed.
"Oh crap," she whispered, eyes darting toward the bed. The red-haired guy was still under there. Silent. Hopefully still breathing.
The knocking came again — polite, calm, too calm.
"Miss Flair?" The smooth voice of Headmaster Vale slipped through the door. "Are you alright in there?"
Nerissa scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her own bag. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm—uh—totally fine! Just—uh—meditating!"
The handle turned. "May I come in?"
"Wait, no—" she hissed, glancing at the bed. Oh hell, oh hell. She grabbed the fallen glass paperweight and threw it across the room, hoping to look busy.
The door creaked open, and the headmaster stepped inside, expression unreadable. His eyes swept the room slowly, lingering on the faint blood drop near the desk leg.
"Did everything go smoothly, Miss Flair?" he asked in that calm, silky tone.
"Smooth as butter," she said too quickly. "Real easy. The uh, the test thing was fine."
Vale's gaze drifted toward the curtains. "And my assistant? The student who was here with you?"
Her pulse thumped so loud she was sure he could hear it.
"Oh, him?" She forced a laugh. "Yeah, he… uh, went through the window."
Vale turned his head slowly toward the window — perfectly intact, glass untouched. His expression didn't change.
"Through the window," he repeated.
"Yup," Nerissa said, forcing a grin. "Old habits die hard, right?"
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then — to her surprise — Vale chuckled softly. "Ah. So they told you about his habits, then."
Nerissa blinked. "They… did?"
"Indeed," he said smoothly. "He has always been impulsive. A shame, really. But as long as you're unharmed, Miss Flair, I am relieved."
She nodded quickly. "Unharmed and unbothered."
Vale's smile lingered as he stepped closer. His eyes gleamed faintly in the lamplight. "You're quite calm, considering the circumstances."
"I'm from the ghetto," she said dryly. "We stay calm or we get jumped."
He gave a soft laugh. "Remarkable spirit. You'll need it here."
"Why's that?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Vale clasped his hands behind his back. "Mooncrest has… traditions. Rules we do not break."
"Like what? No running in hallways? No phones?"
His expression didn't waver. "Every female student must uphold the academy's founding ritual — the Unclaiming."
Nerissa frowned. "The what now?"
He took a step closer, voice dropping lower. "It is a rite of passage. Before your first full moon at Mooncrest, you are expected to… surrender your purity."
For a full second, her brain refused to process that. Then—
"Wait. You're telling me there's a school rule that says I have to—" she stopped, gesturing wildly "—lose my virginity?!"
"It is tradition," he said smoothly, as if discussing exam results. "A symbolic offering of unity between the species that coexist here."
"Oh, hell no." Nerissa threw up her hands. "What kind of medieval bullshit is this? Is this Hogwarts or a cult?"
"Please, Miss Flair," Vale said softly. "You will find that resistance is… frowned upon. This rule ensures balance between the males and females of the pack. Without it, tension builds."
"Tension?!" She barked a laugh. "Buddy, I grew up around actual gangs. I can handle tension!"
Vale tilted his head, studying her like she was a particularly amusing experiment. "You are quite unlike the others."
"Yeah, I noticed. Everyone else here looks like they came out of a shampoo commercial."
He smiled faintly. "You'll adjust."
"Not to that rule, I won't." Nerissa crossed her arms. "I don't care if your founders crawl out of their graves. I'm not sleeping with anyone just to stay in this creepy-ass school."
Vale's smile didn't falter — if anything, it widened slightly. "Then you will have a difficult stay, Miss Flair. But I admire your conviction."
There was something almost hungry in his gaze.
"I'll have your dorm assigned," he said finally, turning toward the door. "Room 215. You'll meet your roommates in the morning. Try to get some rest."
"Yeah, sure. Rest. Totally possible in a murder castle."
He paused at the door, glancing back. "Oh — one more thing."
She froze. "What?"
"If you see that red-haired boy again…" He smiled faintly. "Don't be alarmed if he remembers you. He tends to recover quickly."
Her stomach dropped. "Recover—? You mean—"
But the door clicked shut before she could finish.
The room was silent again, except for her heartbeat and the faint drip under the bed.
"Oh my God," she whispered, crouching. "He's not dead, right? He's just… napping violently?"
A low groan came from under the bed. Nerissa jumped so high she almost hit the ceiling.
"Oh hell no!" she hissed, snatching her bag and bolting for the door. "Nope, I'm not dying tonight!"
She sprinted down the hall, her footsteps echoing. Somewhere behind her, she could swear she heard a soft chuckle — deep, amused, and very much awake.
Outside, the moon hung high over Mooncrest Academy, glowing like a witness.
Inside, a certain red-haired Alpha crawled out from under the bed, eyes burning gold as he wiped blood from his temple.
"Feisty little witch," he murmured, lips curling into a smile.
"Looks like Mooncrest just got interesting."