Rain tapped against the window with a gentle but insistent rhythm, smearing the neon city lights of Qingzhou into long, shimmering streaks of color. Lin Yuexin sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection in the tall mirror that leaned against the wall. Her black hair was pulled into a tight, disciplined ponytail, strands neatly tucked away so that no softness betrayed her, no human vulnerability. Beside her, her uniform lay folded with precise care—dark, sharp lines designed for Alpha bodies, structured and heavy. Today, she would stop being a mere human girl. Today, she would pretend she belonged.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the small metallic case on her nightstand. Inside was a single, thin patch—a miracle and a risk. A suppressant that would mask her human scent, her pulse, her very essence, and allow her to blend among the Alphas. Illegal. Dangerous. Expensive. She pressed it against the skin just below her collarbone. The moment it clung, a strange warmth spread through her chest, tightening in an unfamiliar way, almost like a second heartbeat. No scent. No fear. She would survive, at least for a little while.
"Yuexin." Her mother's voice cut softly through the quiet morning. Lin Meihua stood in the doorway, already dressed for work, coat buttoned to the neck, her dark hair pinned back, eyes shadowed by sleepless nights. She looked smaller than last year, thinner, fragile—but her presence was still commanding in a way only a mother protecting a child could be.
Yuexin rose from the bed. "Mom."
Her mother stepped closer, adjusting the collar of Yuexin's uniform with careful fingers, lingering a moment longer than necessary. "You remember everything?" she asked, voice quiet but sharp, a tremor betraying the worry beneath her composed exterior.
Yuexin nodded. "I don't speak unless spoken to. I don't react. I don't draw attention."
"And?"
"I keep my head down."
Lin Meihua's lips pressed into a thin line. "That school… it's not normal. Those boys—the Alphas—they can sense things humans can't. If the suppressant fails—"
"It won't," Yuexin interrupted, too quickly. "You said it's the strongest one."
Her mother looked away, a shadow passing over her features. "I said it's the strongest I could find. I just…" She paused, breathing shakily. "…I need you alive, Yuexin. Even if letting you go like this kills me in some way."
Yuexin's throat tightened. "…Okay."
The transport vehicle pulled up to the gates of Heilong Dominion Academy, and Yuexin's stomach twisted. The iron gates loomed like the open jaws of a beast, blackened metal engraved with the Mo Clan dragon, coiled and ready to strike. Beyond, the courtyard stretched, polished stone slick with rain, students moving like a river of power and dominance. Every Alpha present carried a glowing clan mark: Red Phoenix, Silver Wolf, White Tiger. And Yuexin? Nothing.
She stepped out, her boots clicking against the wet stone. The sound echoed in the silence, a human heartbeat among predators. Whispers rose like a tide:
"That's the new transfer…""She smells… faint.""Which clan is she from?"
She ignored them, walking with calculated care. Each step a test, every glance measured. She could feel the suppressant humming beneath her skin, a fragile shield, but even it was only a thin veil against the danger surrounding her.
Then the air shifted.
It wasn't a sound. It wasn't a shout. It was instinct. Every Alpha in the courtyard straightened. Yuexin felt it like a tightening in her chest, hairs rising along her spine. Two figures appeared at the top of the steps.
The first, Mo Zhenyu, eldest son of the headmaster, stepped forward with the kind of presence that could freeze a room. Tall, broad-shouldered, his black hair falling over sharp eyes that seemed to slice through the crowd, he moved with predator grace. His mark, a black coiled dragon, glowed faintly along his neck. Cold. Silent. Untouchable. The instant his gaze met hers, Yuexin felt it: a pulse of energy, a subtle tremor in the suppressant. He shouldn't even notice her—and yet he did.
Behind him came Mo Yichen, younger, playful, dangerous. His movements were loose but precise, a contrast to Zhenyu's rigid dominance. His silver-black dragon mark glimmered against his neck. His lips curved in a smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. Yuexin felt the suppressant flicker, her pulse hitching in reaction to his presence.
Zhenyu's eyes never left her. It wasn't desire—at least, not yet. It was curiosity, suspicion, a careful, silent analysis. Something about her disturbed him. And then Yichen noticed. His grin widened. "Well," he said, voice low, carrying just enough for her to hear, "this is… interesting."
Yuexin swallowed hard. She had made it through the gates alive. But the attention of these two Alphas—predators both—meant survival was only the beginning.
Classrooms smelled faintly of leather and antiseptic, the walls lined with portraits of past Alpha heirs, their eyes seeming to follow every movement. Yuexin kept her gaze low, answering questions succinctly, carefully. Every reaction measured. Every mistake could be fatal socially.
Across the room, Xu Meilin and her clique watched her like hawks. Meilin's sharp smile was laced with malice. "She thinks she belongs here," she whispered, and the others giggled, a sound like claws scratching stone. Yuexin forced herself to breathe evenly, every nerve alive, every muscle tensed.
At lunch, Yuexin sought a quiet corner of the courtyard. Rain had passed, leaving the stone slick and reflective. Zhenyu stood at a distance, commanding without words, his presence parting the crowd. He did not sit with her. He simply watched. And that was enough. She felt simultaneously safe and hunted.
Then Yichen slid onto the bench across from her. "You know," he said casually, voice soft and teasing, "most people get used to the gaze of Alphas. But you… you're fascinating. Strange. And terrifyingly quiet."
Yuexin did not respond. She dared not. He leaned closer, and she could feel his warmth, smell the subtle dominance radiating from him. Her chest tightened, her pulse spiking.
Zhenyu's gaze darkened from the edge of the courtyard. Not jealousy. Not anger. Possessive, territorial. A warning.
Every glance, every breath, every subtle movement around her was a test. She had to survive. She had to remain unseen. And yet, the two Mo brothers had already claimed her attention, her body, in ways she could not resist.
The afternoon dragged, lessons blurring together in a haze of observing, calculating, surviving. Yuexin felt the stares, the whispers, the subtle tests, each Alpha around her trying to gauge her strength—or weakness. By the time the last bell rang, she was exhausted, trembling from mental strain, though outwardly composed.
Walking back to her apartment through the city streets slick with rain, Yuexin finally removed the suppressant patch. She was human again, vulnerable. Pale. Fragile. Alone. Her reflection in a puddle shimmered back at her, a girl no longer pretending, but still forced to play a dangerous game.
And even as she closed the door behind her, the memory of those eyes lingered: Zhenyu's cold, piercing gaze, and Yichen's mischievous, dangerous smirk.
They were already watching her. Already claiming her. And she had only just arrived.