The midday sun beat down on the pavement outside Wolven High.
Ren walked alone, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She had skipped lunch to go to the bank, and now she was taking a shortcut back to the campus through a narrow alleyway.
It was a mistake. Or perhaps, for the people waiting for her, it was a tragedy.
Four figures detached themselves from the shadows of the alley. They were **Rogues**—wolves without a pack, exiles who lived on the fringe of society. They smelled of stale tobacco and aggression.
"Well, well," the leader sneered, stepping into Ren's path. He had a scar running down his cheek and eyes that gleamed with malice. "Look what we have here. A pretty little student from Wolven High. Are you lost, little sheep?"
Ren stopped. She looked at them, her expression bored. She checked her phone. "I'm in a hurry."
The Rogues laughed. It was a jagged, ugly sound.
"In a hurry?" The leader took a step closer, reaching out a dirty hand toward Ren's face. "Why don't you stay and play with us? We can teach you some... extracurricular activities."
***
Fifty meters away, a black SUV was parked in the shade of an oak tree.
Inside, **Dr. Luke** was gripping the steering wheel, his eyes wide. "Master Juan! Look! It's that girl from the infirmary. The pretty one. She's being cornered by Rogues!"
In the passenger seat, **Alpha Juan** was reclining, a blanket pulled over his legs despite the heat. He looked half-asleep, his eyes heavy-lidded.
He glanced out the window.
He saw the slender figure in the loose white t-shirt, standing calm amidst the circle of predators. He saw the pale curve of her neck.
"Go help her," Juan murmured, yawning. He sounded like he was ordering a pizza, not saving a life.
"On it!" Luke unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to play the hero. "Those scum dare to touch a student near our territory?"
Luke opened the door.
But before his foot could touch the pavement, he froze.
***
In the alley, the Rogue leader's hand was inches from Ren's face.
Ren didn't flinch. She didn't scream. She didn't even shift into a wolf form—not that she could, as a supposed Dormant.
Instead, she moved.
Faster than a human eye could follow, she took a step back, grabbed the leader's wrist, and twisted.
*CRACK.*
The sound of bone snapping echoed in the alley.
The leader screamed, dropping to his knees. Before his goons could react, Ren spun around, delivering a vicious roundhouse kick to the second Rogue's temple. He crumpled like a wet paper bag.
The remaining two Rogues roared, their eyes flashing yellow as they partially shifted, claws extending. They lunged at her.
Ren didn't panic. She ducked under a swinging claw, grabbed the attacker by his collar, and used his own momentum to slam him face-first into the brick wall.
*Thud.*
The last Rogue hesitated, fear dawning in his eyes. He looked at the girl—this slender, pale girl who fought not with brute strength, but with the terrifying precision of a special forces soldier.
Ren stepped forward. The Rogue stumbled back and tripped over his own feet, landing hard on the asphalt.
Silence returned to the alley.
Ren stood over the groaning pile of bodies. She adjusted her backpack strap, which hadn't even slipped during the fight. Her breathing was perfectly even.
She looked down at the leader, who was clutching his broken wrist and looking at her with pure terror.
Ren brushed a speck of dust off her shoulder. She tilted her head, a small, mocking smile playing on her lips.
"Next time," she said, her voice raspy and cool, "check the target before you hunt."
She stepped over him, but paused. Looking back at the leader who was staring at her with a mix of fear and twisted fascination, she winked.
"And don't fall in love with me," she drawled, lazy and arrogant. "**There's no future in it.**"
***
In the black SUV, Luke's jaw was hanging open. He had forgotten to get out of the car.
"Did... did you see that?" Luke stammered. "She didn't use any Spirit Power. That was pure combat technique. Who teaches a high school girl to fight like an assassin?"
Alpha Juan watched the girl walk away, disappearing around the corner.
For the first time in months, the drowsiness in his eyes vanished completely. The darkness in his pupils swirled, sharp and focused.
He replayed her last words in his mind. *Don't fall in love with me. There's no future in it.*
A low, husky chuckle escaped his throat.
"She's arrogant," Juan murmured, a dangerous smile curving his lips. "I like it."
"Master?" Luke looked at him nervously. "You're not actually interested, are you? She's just a kid."
Juan closed his eyes, leaning back into the seat. "Drive, Luke. Before I decide to go and capture that little wild cat myself."
***
Ren returned to the campus, but she didn't go back to class immediately.
The fight had stirred something in her. Her blood was boiling—not with adrenaline, but with the **Alpha Instinct** she kept suppressing. Violence always made her inner wolf restless, threatening to break through the drug-induced dormancy.
She needed to calm down.
She found herself walking toward the Arts Building. It was quiet at this time of day; most students were in the cafeteria.
Ren climbed to the second floor and found an unlocked practice room. Inside, sunlight streamed onto an old, polished violin.
She picked it up. It felt familiar. Comforting.
She placed the instrument under her chin, closed her eyes, and drew the bow across the strings.
A note hung in the air. Clear. mournful. Piercing.
Then, she began to play.
It wasn't a classical piece taught in the Academy. It was a melody from the Wildlands—raw, untamed, and full of a haunting sorrow. The music poured out of her, washing over her agitated soul, soothing the beast inside her veins.
The notes rose and fell like a storm, aggressive yet beautiful, demanding to be heard.
***
Outside the building, **Xavier** was walking with **Joey**.
Xavier was in a foul mood. He had spent the lunch break listening to people praise Ren's face on the forum, and it sickened him. He hated superficiality.
"I'm telling you, Xavier," Joey was saying, "Ren might be a Dormant, but she's got style. Did you see her eyes?"
"Shut up, Joey," Xavier snapped.
Suddenly, he stopped.
A sound drifted down from the open window of the second floor.
It was a violin. But it wasn't the technical, practiced perfection of Faye. This sound was... alive.
It hit Xavier like a physical blow. The music bypassed his ears and went straight to his **Wolf Spirit**. He felt his own aura vibrating in resonance with the melody. It was a sensation of pure, overwhelming attraction—a **Soul Call**.
"Who is playing that?" Xavier whispered, his eyes wide.
"Sounds like a violin," Joey said, looking up. "Is it Faye? She's the best violinist in the school."
"No," Xavier said, shaking his head. "Faye plays with technique. This person plays with... soul."
He didn't wait. Xavier broke into a run, sprinting toward the Arts Building. He had to know. He had to meet the person who could make his soul tremble like this.
He burst into the building, taking the stairs two at a time. He reached the practice room door and threw it open.
"Who—"
The room was empty.
The sunlight danced on dust motes. The violin sat in its case, the latch still clicking shut as if someone had just left. The window curtains were swaying in the breeze.
Xavier stood there, chest heaving, looking at the empty room. The lingering resonance of the music was still in the air, wrapping around him like a ghost.
"They're gone," Joey said, catching up, panting. "Did you see who it was?"
Xavier walked over to the window and looked out. He saw nothing but the empty campus grounds.
His heart was pounding in a way it never had for Faye.
"I don't know," Xavier said, his voice low and intense. "But I will find them. Whoever played this... is the only one who truly understands me."
Unbeknownst to him, just around the corner of the hallway, Ren adjusted her backpack and walked away, completely unaware that she had just stolen the School Prince's heart.
**[Chapter 5 End]**