The lecture hall was unusually full.
Students filtered into the elevated rows, a mixture of humans and supernaturals occupying the wide, curved space. Wards etched faintly into the walls shimmered just enough to be felt — a precaution for advanced courses where power and theory occasionally collided.
Aren slid into his seat beside Aiden Thomas, setting his bag at his feet.
"You're quiet today," Aiden murmured, pulling out his tablet. "Theo again?"
Aren hesitated, then shrugged. "Just tired."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
Since morning, his senses felt… off. Sounds seemed sharper. The room felt too alive — heartbeats, breathing, the subtle pulse of magic under skin. He rubbed his temple and focused on the front of the hall as Professor Valerius Crowe, a senior arcane theorist, stepped forward.
"Today," Crowe announced, "we'll be observing controlled resonance between bloodline energy and spell matrices."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
At the center platform, a circular glyph ignited. Several volunteer students stepped forward — a fire-aligned shifter, a minor fae, and a young vampire whose hunger had yet to fully stabilize.
Aren stiffened.
Something about the setup felt wrong.
The demonstration began smoothly enough. Energy flowed into the glyph, threads of magic weaving in precise harmony. Professor Crowe nodded in approval—
Then the vampire's eyes flared crimson.
The glyph shuddered.
"Professor—" someone gasped.
The vampire staggered back, fangs elongating as hunger surged violently out of control. The wards along the walls flickered, strained by the sudden spike in predatory intent.
The fire shifter snarled, instinctively shifting halfway, flames licking across his skin.
Chaos erupted.
Students shouted. Chairs scraped backward. The air thickened, magic crackling dangerously.
Aren was on his feet before he realized he'd moved.
The vampire lunged.
Aren stepped forward.
He didn't shout.
He didn't think.
"Enough."
The word left his mouth low and steady — not loud, not forceful — yet it cut through the chaos like a blade.
The room froze.
The vampire skidded to a halt mid-lunge, eyes wide with terror. His fangs retracted as his knees buckled, body trembling as though pressed beneath an invisible weight.
The fire shifter's flames died instantly.
Fae magic unraveled.
Every shifter in the room felt it — a sudden, crushing pressure in their chests, instinct screaming one undeniable command:
Submit.
Aren stood there, heart pounding, utterly confused.
What did I just do?
Professor Crowe stared at him.
The wards stabilized on their own, no longer needed.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
The vampire collapsed unconscious, unharmed.
Aren finally realized the entire lecture hall was silent.
Slowly, students began to breathe again.
Aren swallowed hard, his hands shaking. "I—I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I don't know why I—"
"You're fine," Professor Crowe interrupted, voice controlled but tight. Too tight. His gaze never left Aren. "Take your seat, Mr. Winson."
Aren obeyed, legs unsteady.
Aiden leaned toward him, eyes searching. "That was… fast," he whispered. "You moved before anyone else did."
Aren forced a laugh that sounded wrong even to his own ears. "Adrenaline?"
Aiden didn't look convinced.
Across the room, Theo Raeken sat rigid, fingers digging into the armrest of his chair. His face was pale — not from fear, but from something worse.
Recognition.
His vampire instincts were screaming.
That wasn't dominance.
That was authority.
Far away, deep within the sealed halls of the Winson estate, Aurek Winson paused mid-step.
A pressure rolled through his bones — ancient, unmistakable.
The kind that hadn't been felt in generations.
His eyes darkened.
"…Impossible," he murmured.
And under a full moon that would rise in a few short nights, the world had taken its first step toward awakening a True Alpha.