I felt my breath choke in my throat as the huge guy holding me up finally dropped me on the cold tiled floor. My knees buckled under me, but I forced myself to sit upright. Looking weak in a den of wolves was basically begging for a death sentence.

The gold-haired guy leaned forward slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like he enjoyed watching me struggle.

"Where did you come from, rogue?"

I swallowed hard. My throat burned, probably raw from earlier screams.

"I do not know how I got here," I whispered.

The room fell silent, the kind of silence that made my skin itch. They were waiting. Expecting more. Wolves always wanted more.

"My pack was killed," I added faintly.

"By who?" Lucas asked, leaning closer like a predator sniffing out a lie.

"Vampires," I said. The word scraped out of me.

"They killed everyone."

The big one, Dereck, snorted. "Convenient story."

"It is the truth," I said, louder this time. My voice cracked but I held their eyes, even if every instinct told me to curl up and disappear.

"What else?" Lucas asked.

"That is all."

It was all I would ever say.

Even if they skinned me alive.

Even if they beat me again.

Every time they asked during the long, miserable questioning me, it was all I repeated.

"They were killed by vampires."

I did not add details.

I did not explain corpses burned into ashes.

I did not mention the fangs at my throat or the village screaming before midnight swallowed us whole.

I did not say anything about the deal they forced on me.

I did not say I was the only one left.

I said nothing.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. I had not even sensed him, and that terrified me more than the wolves glaring holes into my skull. He was tall, thin, wearing the long coat only the Academy teachers used. His eyes glinted like matching ink pools as he scribbled things into a notebook with sharp, aggressive movements.

He stared at me like I was something dissected on a table.

Then he snapped the book shut.

The next thing I knew, Dereck yanked me up again and shoved me forward. The teacher turned and began walking without saying a single word. Wolves followed. I stumbled after them, dragged like cargo.

We went deeper into the Academy. The halls grew wider. Cleaner. Decorated with banners and crests of high-ranking bloodlines. The air smelled fresher too. Like a place nobles breathed and the rest of us polluted.

Before I could blink, I was shoved through a large carved door.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

And I understood why.

This was no normal office.

This was a place of judgment.

A room where fates were rewritten.

The Student Council Room.

Important personnel stood around like statues, and it made me shrink instantly. Council members, elite heirs, the strongest Lycans in the Academy. Their gazes were sharp and heavy, pressing down on my bones.

And then I saw him.

Aldric.

My breath hitched so violently I nearly choked on it.

He sat in the center seat, the highest one. Like a throne.

His hair, charcoal black and cut in that messy wolf style, fell to his shoulders. His never eyes were sharp as honed steel, glowing faintly even in the bright room. His jawline was carved like the gods were showing off. And his aura. His aura felt like it was slicing my skin open. Sharp. Cold. Dominant.

He was handsome.

Too handsome.

The kind of handsome that hurt to look at.

My heart thundered traitorously.

Damn it. Why was I reacting to someone who looked like he would crush me for breathing too loudly?

The teacher dropped his hand from my collar.

"This is the rogue you insisted on saving," he said dryly.

Aldric did not blink. He just stared down at me with the most condescending expression I had ever seen. Like I was mud on his boots. Like I did not deserve to be alive.

"If you want him alive so badly," the teacher continued, loud enough for everyone, "then you will take accountability for him. Completely. For the rest of his life."

I felt the floor tilt.

The rest of his life.

People in the room murmured. Some were shocked. Others delighted, probably waiting to see how Aldric would react.

Aldric did not answer. He just kept staring. Looking down at me like I was supposed to kneel or faint or drop dead.

For a second, I swear I could not breathe.

His presence was too much.

His aura wrapped around my throat and squeezed.

Not physically, but in that way powerful wolves could do, a dominance that sank directly into the bones.

My gaze met his for one foolish moment.

Bad idea. Horrible idea.

His eyes pierced straight into me, cold and heavy, scraping at every secret I tried to bury.

My chest tightened.

My lungs stalled.

I broke my gaze away, looking at the ground instantly. My heart hammered so loudly I was sure everyone heard it. Shame exploded inside me. Fear. Something else I refused to name.

But that single act of breaking his gaze...

seemed to piss Aldric off.

His aura spiked, razor sharp. The room seemed to hold its breath. Wolves shifted uneasily. Someone coughed. The teacher raised a brow.

Aldric finally spoke.

"Very well."

His voice was deeper than I expected. Smooth but carrying a command that made my spine straighten involuntarily.

"He stays."

That was all he said.

He stood up. Tall. Intimidating. His coat fell behind him like a dark wave. Without another glance at me, he walked past, and the entire council room moved with him like he was the sun and they were planets forced to orbit.

One by one, everyone left.

They talked among themselves, laughing, shifting, whispering.

Not one spared me a look.

Not one cared.

I stood there alone.

Small.

Bruised.

Unwanted.

And my heart clenched so tightly it felt like it cracked open.

Bit by bit.

Painfully.

Even after everything, even after surviving death, loneliness still found a way to cut deeper than claws.

Aldric did not look back at me once.

Not once.

The door shut behind them, and silence swallowed me whole.

..."Aldric would not have taken kindly to a bloodied, smelly pup."

..."You better pray you make a good first impression. The Alpha heir hates weaklings."

He definitely hates me now.

I found his lounge easily enough, though "lounge" was an insult to what stood before me. It was enormous, an entire secluded wing of the High District, untouched and unreachable to anyone who wasn't powerful enough to breathe that kind of air. No one lived remotely close to him. No one dared to. This was a level of residence meant for the elite.

And somehow, I was walking straight into it.

They had sent me here without a proper explanation. Just a clipped command, a shove in the right direction, and suddenly I was stumbling toward the home of the most terrifying wolf alive, dressed in clothes torn to rags and stained by my own blood.

The building was shaped like a circular fortress, single-storied but sprawling, surrounded by ponds that formed a kind of man-made island. Stone paths crossed the water as a path. Even before the ponds, gardens bloomed in every direction, flowers arranged with such deliberate artistry that for a moment I forgot the pain radiating through my bruised ribs.

Only for a moment.

Because every step hurt.

Every breath hurt.

Every memory of that abominable monster hurting me earlier made my fists clench until my knuckles ached.

No. Don't think about that.

Shaking the poisonous thoughts away, I pushed myself forward. My legs wobbled, but I forced them to keep moving. I was filthy, exhausted, half-healed and half-broken, but I wasn't turning back. My wolf couldn't even heal my hurting bones because of how weak I was.

The moment I stepped inside, I stopped breathing.

The interior was... otherworldly.

Dark ambience clung to the space like it was created for it, heavy and deliberate. High-quality woods framed the walls, furniture arranged with deadly precision and caee. The room felt somewhat ancient and powerful.

I almost didn't dare step farther in.

It felt like I was intruding.

No... more like contaminating.

But the door had been open, so I pushed my luck. Aldric Varyn had no reason to lock anything. Who would dare try invading the heir's domain? No wolf with a functioning brain. I conveniently exempted myself from that category with a tiny flicker of pride that probably counted as suicidal.

Still, I couldn't help it...

I had actually walked into Alderion Aldric Varyn's private home.

A billion wolves would kill for the chance.

So I drifted deeper, marveling. I touched things I shouldn't have touched, stared at things I shouldn't have stared at. I wanted to memorize everything-the lines, the shadows, the weight of the atmosphere.

Eventually I reached the room farthest inside.

The last door.

Literally the only one that mattered.

His room.

It wasn't locked.

Of course it wasn't.

Inside, everything was exactly as I imagined: high-end, minimalist, dark. The kind of "dark" that wasn't just a color, but a presence, masculine, commanding, dangerous.

His scent clung to every inch of the place, crisp and sharp and sinfully clean. It hit me like a punch, heating my cheeks despite the chill running down my spine.

Then I found the walk-in closet.

Gods.

It was enormous. Swords gleamed on display; medals rested in pristine glass cases; crests and armor lined the walls. Leather. Fur. Horns. Vampire teeth, actual vampire teeth, mounted like trophies of his victories.

He was incredible.

My fingers hovered with reverence before I let myself touch the cool metal of a blade, then a crest, then the smooth fabric of one of his coats. I inhaled his scent shamelessly, letting it settle into my lungs. It felt illicit and electrifying.

Then my mind clicked into something far more practical:

I needed clothes.

Badly.

Rummaging through the lower shelves, I found a folded set of pajamas, a black shirt, black trousers. Plain, but beautifully made. His. Obviously his, everything he had was beautifully made.

I snatched them like stolen treasure and rushed out of the closet, then directly into his personal bathroom. A long shower washed away dried blood, sweat, and the grime of the day. The water stung my cuts, but the relief was worth it.

It was hell today.

Hell.

I was still drying my hair when my instincts screamed.

Someone was here.

Just... a feeling.

A gut-deep, primal alarm.

He was back.

Panic shot through me.

I practically leapt out of the shower, tugging on the pyjamas, they were long on me, too long. I fumbled hopelessly with the shirt buttons, my hands shaking, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Button faster.

Move faster.

Run.

If he saw me..

like this

in his clothes, in his room...

I bolted for the door, shirt still half-open, hair dripping. My breath came in frantic gasps. Just escape. Just hide. Just..

I collided with something solid.

No, someone.

I staggered, and the world stopped.

Alderion Aldric Varyn stood before me.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Drenched in authority and danger, wearing a scowl that could've frozen the sun.

His eyes moved from my face... to my dripping hair... to the unbuttoned shirt hanging off my shoulders... to my eyes that widened in shock. I hiccuped.

His shirt.

His clothes.

His home.

His room.

And me.

A pathetic, bruised stray in borrowed fabric.

My stomach dropped into oblivion.

Fuck.

I'm cooked.

I froze.

His gaze burned through me, sharp, golden, irritated... and somehow colder than I thought eyes could ever get.

For a second, the entire world was soundless.

Then...

"You."

The word rolled out of him with a low rumble.

My throat tightened around nothing, and I found myself stupidly lowering my head to watch the beautiful experience awesome tiles my toes wriggling my hands clutching the hem of the garment.

"I...I didn't break anything," I blurted out. "Probably."

Great.

Brilliant.

Just dig your grave deeper, Zero.

He took one step forward.

Just one.

But my entire wolf flinched like he'd struck me. His presence filled the room far too easily, bigger than the space, bigger than reason, bigger than anything my tiny, battered body could hope to stand against. My heart thrashed like a wild animal trying to escape my ribs.

"You're wearing my clothes," he said.

"I...I'm sorry," I choked out. "The people sent me here. I didn't know where else to go, I was dirty and bleeding and...."

His eyes flicked downward, trailing over my bruises, the half–buttoned shirt that hung past my thighs, the exposed skin from where his shirt hung past to my feet. Something shifted in his expression...

A predator taking inventory.

"Step back."

I stumbled back so fast my heel slipped on the wet floor and I almost fell. Almost. But his hand shot forward, fast, precise, catching my wrist before my skull met the floor.

The heat of his grip seared straight to the center of my chest.

My breath hitched.

His fingers tightened.

"Stand," he ordered.

I stood. Shakily.

He let go as if the touch had meant nothing, yet my skin still burned where he grabbed me.

Aldric looked around the room, then at the damp footprints trailing from his shower to where I stood dripping with his shirt half-open, my hair sticking to my face. His jaw flexed.

"You touched my things."

I nodded, trembling. "Y..yes."

"You entered my room."

My voice was barely a whisper. "Yes..."

"You went through my closet."

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

There was no point denying that one. I probably smelled like his entire wardrobe at this point.

His eyes narrowed.

"It seems your idiocy knows no restraint."

I stiffened. Anger sparked, brief but real, before dying under the crushing reminder of who he was.

Aldric Varyn.

Son of the High Alpha.

The deadliest wolf of our age.

And me?

A rougish, nearly feral nobody whose name meant less than dirt.

So I swallowed the anger.

And lowered my head.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

So close I could see the faint scar along his collarbone, the way his lashes shadowed those molten eyes, the heat radiating from his skin. My wolf whimpered internally, unsure whether to run or kneel.

"I don't accept apologies," he said.

My stomach dropped.

"W-what do you accept?"

His gaze flicked to the undone buttons of his shirt.

"His hand lifted, slowly, deliberately, until a single finger hooked the edge of the collar I was drowning in.

His voice dropped.

"Take it off."