The only reason I came to the Academy was to survive. Love was never in the plan.
I stood at the iron gates, staring up at the stone archway that read "Silvercrest Academy" in letters so old they'd probably been there since before my grandparents were born. My duffel bag felt heavier than it should. Everything I owned was in there. Not much, really. A few changes of clothes, some books, the necklace my mother gave me before she died.
The guard at the gate barely looked at me. He just waved me through like I was nothing. I guess that was accurate.
The campus sprawled out in front of me, all ancient buildings and manicured lawns. Students moved in packs, laughing, shoving each other. I could feel their eyes on me the second I stepped through. Conversations stopped mid-sentence. Heads turned. Whispers started like wildfire.
"Is that her?"
"The Ashford girl?"
"I heard her bloodline is tainted."
"Didn't her whole family die?"
"No, some survived. But they're disgraced."
I kept my head down and walked faster. The cobblestone path wound between towering oak trees, their branches forming a canopy overhead. It would've been beautiful if I wasn't so aware of every stare, every muttered word.
A group of girls stood near the fountain. They didn't even try to hide their staring. One of them, a blonde with perfect curls and designer clothes, wrinkled her nose like I smelled bad.
"That's the charity case," she said loud enough for me to hear. "Can't believe they let her kind in here."
Her friends giggled. I clenched my jaw and kept walking.
This wasn't new. I'd spent my whole life being the unwanted one. My family made sure I knew exactly where I stood. My father barely looked at me. My stepmother treated me like a servant. And my sister, Vivian, she was the golden child. Perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect everything. She was set to marry the future Alpha of the Silvercrest pack. Meanwhile, I was lucky if I got dinner.
I'd made a plan years ago. Survive until eighteen, then leave. Start over somewhere far away where nobody knew my name or my history. But then everything fell apart.
The fire took most of my family. My father. My stepmother. The house burned to nothing but ash and bone. Vivian survived, of course. She always did. But the pack elders decided I needed "structure" and "guidance," so they shipped me off to the Academy. Vivian got to stay in the main pack house, preparing for her perfect future. I got exile dressed up as education.
The training grounds came into view as I rounded the corner of the main building. It was massive, an open field ringed by stone seating and surrounded by tall iron fencing. Students filled the space. Most of them were shifting, practicing their wolf forms. Others sparred in human form, testing strength and speed.
I stopped at the edge of the fence. I couldn't help myself. Despite everything, despite knowing I didn't belong here, I wanted to see what real training looked like. My pack back home never let me near the grounds. Too weak, they said. Too much of a liability.
The air smelled like sweat and earth. Wolves circled each other, growling low. A few shifted mid-fight, bones cracking and reforming in seconds. It was brutal. Raw. The kind of strength I'd never be allowed to have.
Then I saw him.
He stood in the center of the ring, human form, but barely. His wolf was right there beneath the surface. I could see it in his eyes, the way they flashed gold in the sunlight. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell just past his ears. He moved like water, smooth and controlled, and when he threw a punch, the guy he was fighting went down hard.
The crowd around the ring cheered. Someone shouted his name.
"Darius!"
My stomach dropped.
Darius. The future Alpha. Vivian's fiancé. And the boy who made my childhood a living hell.
He'd been older than me by a few years, always hanging around my sister, always looking at me like I was dirt on his shoe. He'd trip me in the hallways, knock my books out of my hands, call me names that still stung years later. And Vivian never stopped him. She'd just laugh.
I should've turned around right then. Should've walked away before he saw me. But I couldn't move. Something held me there, frozen at the fence.
He finished with his opponent, barely winded. The other guy groaned on the ground, clutching his ribs. Darius didn't even look down. He just turned, scanning the crowd like he was looking for his next challenge.
Then his eyes landed on me.
Everything stopped.
The noise, the movement, the world itself seemed to freeze. His gaze locked onto mine and I felt something I'd never felt before. A pull. Deep and undeniable. It started in my chest and spread outward, making my skin tingle and my breath catch.
No.
No, no, no.
I tried to look away but I couldn't. His expression shifted. Confusion first, then something sharper. Recognition. His nostrils flared like he was scenting the air. His whole body went rigid.
And then I heard it.
A voice. Not out loud. In my head. Deep and rough and furious.
"Mate."
My wolf stirred for the first time in my life. She'd never spoken before. Never even made her presence known. I'd thought maybe I didn't have one, that I was broken in yet another way. But now she was there, awake and aware and screaming the same word.
Mate.
The world tilted. I stumbled backward, gripping the fence to keep from falling. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible. I was eighteen. I'd just turned eighteen last week. My wolf had finally shown up, late and unwelcome, and now she was telling me that Darius—cruel, arrogant, engaged-to-my-sister Darius—was my mate?
His wolf growled in my mind again. "Mate."