Chapter 5 First Day

The early morning mist hung heavy over the Warrior Academy, a brutalist fortress of grey stone that looked more like a prison than an elite training ground. I clutched the single canvas duffel bag containing everything I owned, my knuckles white.

My parents thought I was at a standard pack university. They didn’t know about the contract I’d signed. They didn’t know that the proud daughter of the Blue Blood pack was entering this academy not as a student, but as a ghost. A glorified maid by day, and a literal punching bag by afternoon.

‘Let me out,’ Aziz rumbled in my mind, his deep, masculine voice vibrating against my ribs. ‘The scent of these arrogant Alphas makes my blood boil. Let me tear them apart.’

‘Quiet, Aziz,’ I thought back, taking a slow breath. ‘If they see you, we’re dead. You’re a male wolf in a female body. They’d lock us in a lab or put us down. We hide, we endure, we learn.’ I sighed. ‘That is, if I were only able to let you out.’

A low growl from my wolf was my only answer before he retreated into the shadows of my consciousness, leaving behind a familiar thrum of healing energy that already began soothing my racing heart.

My first task of the day started at 5:00 AM: the strategy war rooms.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of stale coffee and expensive parchment. As I swept the floor, my eyes kept darting to the massive chalkboard at the front. It was covered in a complex troop deployment grid—a simulation problem left behind by the academy’s notorious new instructor, Professor Kaelen Vance. The guy was a tactical prodigy, younger than most commanders, and famous for treating high-born Alphas like dirt.

I stared at the grid. The simulated Red Faction was bottlenecked in a valley, completely exposed to an ambush from the North. It was a death trap.

"They're going to get slaughtered," I muttered, stopping my broom.

‘Look closer,’ Aziz murmured, his tactical instincts waking up. ‘The Eastern ridge. If they feign a retreat and collapse the tunnel...’

Before I could stop myself, I dropped the broom. I walked up to the board, picked up a piece of white chalk, and drew a sharp, decisive arrow cutting through the Eastern ridge, crossing out the original vanguard deployment. I rapidly scribbled a math formula underneath to balance the supply lines for the sudden pivot.

A floorboard creaked outside.

Panic spiked in my chest. I dropped the chalk, grabbed my broom, and practically dove out of the side door just as footsteps echoed down the hall. I didn't see who entered, but my heart didn't stop hammering until I reached the locker rooms for my next chore.

By 2:00 PM, the illusions of the morning were shattered. The strategy room felt like a lifetime ago. Now, I was standing in the center of the dusty outdoor training ring, wearing a thin, grey padded vest.

"Buddy duty," they called it. In reality, it was legal hazing. I was the designated target for the elite Alphas to test their speed and strength against someone who "didn't have a wolf."

"Look at her. She looks like a drowned rat," a viciously familiar voice mocked.

I looked up. Standing at the edge of the ring was Morrigan, her perfect hair tied back, trying desperately to project an aura of authority she didn't truly possess. She wasn't an Alpha, and she knew it. That was exactly why she chose me as her target—she needed someone lower than her on the food chain to make herself feel powerful in front of the real elites. I was of Alpha blood without a wolf: the perfect target.

Next to her stood Barrett, the academy’s true golden boy, lethal and silent.

My gaze locked onto him. As he stepped closer to the ring, Aziz suddenly snapped awake inside me, pacing like a caged beast.

‘Briella...’ Aziz’s voice was sharp, confused. ‘Where is his scent?’

I blinked, focusing my senses. Every true Alpha here reeked of cedar, ash, or blood. Even the lower-ranking wolves had a distinct musk. But Barrett? Nothing. He was an absolute void. It was biologically impossible for a high-tier male wolf to have no scent. I stared at him a second too long, and his cold, calculating grey eyes flicked down to meet mine. He narrowed them, noticing my scrutiny.

"First up, Morrigan," the drill instructor barked.

Morrigan stepped into the ring, a predatory smile stretching across her face. She was eager to impress the crowd, especially Barrett. "Don't break too easily, Briella. I want to enjoy this."

Before the whistle even finished blowing, Morrigan lunged forward. She lacked the raw, crushing weight of an Alpha blow, but she made up for it with vicious speed. Her fist aimed straight for my temple.

‘Left,’ Aziz whispered, his combat reflexes overlapping with mine.

I didn't dodge completely; that would expose my speed. Instead, I waited until the absolute last millisecond. I pivoted my head by a single millimeter. Morrigan’s fist grazed my cheek, a superficial scratch, but the momentum of her missed strike forced her to hit my padded shoulder instead of my skull. I let the impact throw me to the dirt, gasping as if I’d been brutally blindsided.

The crowd of students laughed, cheering for Morrigan. She smirked, puffing out her chest, soaking in the unearned glory.

I pushed myself up slowly, spitting dirt, making sure to look pathetic. But as I glanced toward the sidelines, my blood turned to ice.

Professor Kaelen Vance was leaning against a weapon rack, arms crossed. His sharp eyes weren't looking at Morrigan's celebratory stance. They were locked onto me. He had a faint, cynical smirk on his face. He had seen the millimeter pivot. He knew I had thrown myself down.

Beside him, Barrett was watching me too. His jaw was clenched, his grey eyes tracking the way I stood up—too fluidly, too easily for someone who had just taken a direct hit.

"Again!" Morrigan yelled, stepping forward for another strike, desperate to keep the spotlight on her.

I braced myself, tucking my chin, preparing to absorb the next blow. My day was only half over, but the two most dangerous men in this academy were already looking right through my mask.