Nerissa woke to sunlight slicing through the dorm blinds and the faint scent of pine and cologne. For a blissful five seconds, she forgot where she was. Then her eyes flicked open to see Riven sprawled on the bed across from her, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge like he owned the place.
"Oh, right," she muttered. "Hot wolf roommates. Magic wards. Possible death sentence. Fun."
She dragged herself upright, raking a hand through her curls. Kael's bed was empty—no surprise there. He probably woke up at dawn to glower at the sunrise. Lucien's sheets were perfectly made, like he'd ironed them in his sleep.
Nerissa's bag sat where she'd dropped it the night before, half-zipped, makeup bag hanging out like a white flag. She stretched, bones popping. "Alright, day one. Try not to accidentally murder anyone. Or hex a teacher."
"Talking to yourself again?" Riven's muffled voice came from the bed.
She jumped. "Jesus—don't you snore or something?"
He peeked out from under his arm, grinning. "Only when I'm bored."
"Then snore for the rest of the year," she shot back, grabbing her uniform jacket. "And stop staring."
"Hard not to." His smirk widened.
She rolled her eyes. "You flirt like a YouTube tutorial. Predictable and useless."
Riven chuckled, sitting up. The sunlight hit his hair, making it glow like fire. "You've got a mouth on you, witch."
"Yeah, and you've got a death wish, wolf."
Their eyes locked. For a second, the air between them thickened — then Kael's voice cut in from the doorway.
"Breakfast in ten. Don't be late."
Nerissa turned to see him in a perfectly pressed uniform, dark tie in place, eyes as cold as his tone.
"Sure thing, boss," she said sweetly.
He didn't reply, just walked out.
Lucien followed after, nodding politely to her. "Class starts at eight. Try not to draw too much attention."
"Why? You scared I'll outshine you?"
He smiled faintly. "You already do."
Riven whistled. "Smooth."
Lucien ignored him and shut the door.
Nerissa groaned. "How are all of you so dramatic before coffee?"
By the time she reached the dining hall, the place buzzed with students. It looked like Hogwarts had a baby with a luxury boarding school — long tables, enchanted chandeliers, and banners fluttering with the Mooncrest crest: a silver wolf under a blood-red moon.
She grabbed a tray and scanned for an empty seat. Most students gave her curious looks. Word must've spread fast: new girl, weird energy, slapped the red-haired alpha. Fantastic reputation, day one.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Nerissa turned to see a tall girl with brown skin, honey-blonde braids, and a mischievous smile. She had bold eyeliner, a stack of bracelets, and the kind of confident posture that screamed main character energy.
"Sure," Nerissa said. "You're saving me from eating with the testosterone trio."
The girl laughed, sitting across from her. "Name's Vanessa. You're the witch everyone's whispering about."
Nerissa froze mid-bite. "Wow. News travels faster than Wi-Fi here."
"Please. This school thrives on gossip." Vanessa leaned in. "You really knocked out Riven Thornhart?"
"He ran into my… uh… hand. With his head."
Vanessa's grin widened. "Queen behavior."
Nerissa laughed for the first time that morning. "Finally, someone who gets it."
"Girl, I get it," Vanessa said, scooping some eggs. "Mooncrest is full of pretty boys with god complexes. Half of them want to dominate you, the other half think you're competition. The trick? Scare them first."
"I can do scary," Nerissa said, dead serious.
"I know." Vanessa winked. "That's why we're gonna be friends."
Their first class was English Literature — because apparently even werewolves needed to analyze Shakespeare. The classroom was a cathedral of old wood and floating candles, the faint scent of parchment and magic in the air.
Professor Lowell stood at the front, tall and silver-haired, with the kind of presence that silenced a room. His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Good morning, class," he said smoothly. "Today, we'll discuss the language of control in Macbeth."
Nerissa raised an eyebrow. Control? Seriously?
As he spoke, she swore she saw something flicker in his eyes — gold, just for a heartbeat.
Vanessa leaned over. "Told you. All the staff here? Wolves."
"How do you know?"
Vanessa shrugged. "You learn to tell. The way they move, smell, stare at you like you're dinner."
"Comforting."
When Lowell's gaze swept the room, it lingered on Nerissa. Just a fraction too long.
"Miss Flair," he said suddenly. "You're new, yes? Tell us—what do you think Lady Macbeth's greatest sin was?"
Every eye turned to her.
Nerissa straightened. "Ambition. But not because she wanted power—because she thought she could control it. Big difference."
The class murmured. Lowell's mouth quirked. "Interesting. Most say her guilt consumed her."
"Yeah, well," Nerissa said, tapping her pen, "guilt doesn't kill you. Bad choices do."
A pause. Then Lowell chuckled softly. "Insightful."
As he turned away, Vanessa whispered, "Okay, I see why the alphas are obsessed. You've got nerve."
"Or a death wish."
"Same thing here."
By midday, Nerissa started feeling almost normal. She and Vanessa had three classes together, and between jokes, gossip, and shared eye-rolls at arrogant seniors, Nerissa found herself… enjoying it.
The school had its rhythm — wolves pretending to be normal, humans pretending to be safe.
At lunch, Vanessa pointed out the "pack hierarchy" like it was a social ladder. "Riven's the wild card, Lucien's the peacekeeper, Kael's the enforcer. The rest follow whoever looks deadliest that week."
Nerissa sipped her juice. "So basically, high school politics but with claws."
"Exactly."
Across the hall, Riven caught her gaze. His smirk returned — lazy, knowing. She immediately looked away.
"Girl, he's staring at you," Vanessa teased.
"He's probably plotting revenge."
"Or picturing you in his bed."
Nerissa gagged. "Ew, gross. His ego wouldn't fit in there."
Vanessa cackled so loudly a few students turned to look.
Their last class of the day was Alchemy Studies — "science for the magically inclined," according to the schedule. It was taught by Miss Aster, a pale woman with kind eyes and a presence that seemed almost… too calm.
Halfway through the lesson, Nerissa noticed something odd. Every time she reached for a vial, the liquid shimmered faintly. When she added herbs, they glowed brighter than anyone else's.
Miss Aster glanced her way more than once, expression unreadable.
When class ended, she stopped Nerissa at the door. "Miss Flair."
Nerissa froze. "Yeah?"
"You handled the rune surge last night remarkably well."
Nerissa blinked. "Wait, you know about that?"
"Mooncrest knows everything," Aster said softly. "Especially when old magic wakes."
"What old magic?"
The teacher smiled faintly. "Yours, perhaps. Have a good evening, dear."
Nerissa stood there long after she left, pulse racing.
Vanessa poked her head back in. "You good?"
"Define good."
Vanessa grinned. "You'll fit right in."
That night, Nerissa sat by the dorm window, staring at the moon.
Mooncrest buzzed quietly below, laughter echoing, music thumping from the rec hall. For a school that looked like a gothic castle, it sure hid its secrets well.
Behind her, Riven snored softly. Kael was reading. Lucien meditated like some wolf monk.
And Nerissa? She couldn't stop replaying Miss Aster's words.
Old magic. Hers.
The torches outside flickered again — brighter when she breathed, softer when she exhaled.
She whispered into the dark, "Who the hell am I really?"
The moonlight flared once, like an answer she wasn't ready for.