Mated to Four Heirs

Chapter eight

SAMANTHA CARTER

The moment I closed my bedroom door behind me, I leaned against it and let out a shaky breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

The room was quiet, too quiet.

Carla's words kept replaying in my head.

"Stay away from me. I don't want you anywhere near me."

I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.

What had I done?

I had only wanted to thank him.

He had saved my life yesterday, and despite the way he acted around me, I thought maybe there was another side to him. Maybe he was just shy. Maybe he wasn't good at talking to people.

Instead, he had looked at me as though I carried a deadly disease.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"No," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. "You're not doing this."

I wasn't going to spend my first week at Nightshade Academy crying over someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

Besides, I had bigger problems.

The Council had practically sentenced me to death if I failed to make a choice before graduation.

I was living with four alpha heirs I barely knew.

The entire Academy stared at me wherever I went.

And somewhere in the middle of all that...

I still didn't know who—or what—I really was.

A knock sounded on my door, making me quickly wipe my eyes.

"Samantha?" Adrian's cheerful voice came from outside. "Breakfast is getting cold."

"I'm coming," I replied, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.

After taking one last deep breath, I opened the door and followed the scent of food downstairs.

The dining room was already occupied. Karl sat at one end of the table with an open book beside his plate, reading while eating at the same time. Darius was helping himself to what looked like his third serving of pancakes. Adrian was pouring tea into four cups.

The fifth chair, the one beside the window… was empty.

For some strange reason, my shoulders relaxed.

"Morning, Princess," Darius greeted with his usual grin, pointing a fork at me. "You look like someone stole your favorite pillow."

"I don't have a favorite pillow."

"That's exactly what someone whose favorite pillow was stolen would say."

I rolled my eyes despite myself.

Adrian smiled warmly. "Come and sit. The cook left breakfast before sunrise."

I thanked him quietly and settled into the empty chair opposite Karl.

Nobody mentioned Carla, or asked where he was. The silence surrounding his absence felt almost intentional.

Karl looked up from his book. "You didn't sleep well."

"I slept," I answered, reaching for a slice of toast.

"You only ate half your dinner yesterday," Adrian observed gently. "Now you're barely touching breakfast."

"I'm just not hungry."

Darius frowned dramatically. "That's impossible."

I looked at him. "What's impossible?"

"Nobody turns down pancakes."

Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.

"There it is!" Darius pointed triumphantly. "She smiled."

Karl shook his head, though the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"You celebrate the strangest victories."

"They're still victories."

For a few minutes, the conversation shifted to classes, teachers, and Academy rules. Adrian explained which professors were strict and which ones secretly enjoyed students asking questions. Darius warned me never to challenge the Combat Studies instructor unless I enjoyed running laps until sunset. Karl quietly corrected half of Darius' exaggerations.

Listening to them somehow made the Academy feel a little less frightening.

After breakfast, Karl stood.

"I'll show you around before classes begin."

"You don't have to," I said quickly.

"I know. But I want to."

The morning air was crisp as we stepped outside. Nightshade Academy looked even larger in daylight. Students crossed the courtyards in neat uniforms, while instructors supervised training sessions across enormous practice fields.

Karl walked beside me at an unhurried pace.

"That building is the Moon Library," he explained, pointing toward a tower wrapped in silver vines. "Every supernatural law and historical record is kept there."

My eyes widened. "It must have thousands of books."

"It has hundreds of thousands."

We continued walking.

"Over there is the Healing Wing. Adrian spends half his free time there."

"I can believe that."

Karl nodded.

"The eastern grounds belong to Ember Claw during combat drills."

"Which explains why something exploded over there."

He glanced toward the cloud of smoke rising in the distance. "That would be Darius."

"I thought so."

As we crossed another courtyard, however, I noticed conversations dying around us. People kept their eyes on me, almost as if I was a curse.

Karl slowed beside me. "Ignore them."

"I'm trying."

"It gets easier."

I wasn't sure I believed him.

Our first class was Ancient Magic and Werewolf History. The lecture hall resembled a miniature amphitheater, with rows of wooden desks curving around a circular teaching platform. Students filled the room long before the lesson began.

The whispers started again the moment I entered.

Professor Rowan, an elderly werewolf with silver hair and sharp amber eyes, looked up from the ancient scroll he was arranging.

"So," he said, studying me thoughtfully, "the famous scholarship student has finally arrived."

Every head turned toward me.

Wonderful.

"Come forward," he instructed.

My heart sank as I obeyed.

The professor folded his hands behind his back. "Introduce yourself."

I cleared my throat. "My name is Samantha Carter."

The room remained silent.

"I'm... eighteen."

A few students exchanged amused glances.

"I grew up with my parents in a human town."

More whispers followed.

"And..." I hesitated. "I'm happy to be here."

That earned a few quiet laughs.

Professor Rowan nodded. "Welcome to Nightshade Academy, Miss Carter."

I returned to my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

The lesson began almost immediately. The professor spoke about the First Alpha Wars, the creation of the Great Packs, and the sacred covenant between wolves and the Moon Goddess.

Most of it sounded like another language. I struggled to keep up with the notes.

Without saying anything, Karl quietly slid his notebook toward me.

I looked at him. "You'll miss your notes."

"I already remember them."

Feeling grateful, I copied as quickly as I could.

Later, when Professor Rowan asked a question about ancient lunar rituals, I froze completely. Before embarrassment could settle in, Adrian answered smoothly from two rows behind me, drawing the professor's attention away.

He flashed me an encouraging smile.

Darius, meanwhile, spent half the class passing me tiny sketches of Professor Rowan turning into an owl whenever he got angry. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

Only Carla remained distant. He occupied the last seat near the windows, his attention fixed on the lecture.

At least, that's what I thought.

Several times, whenever another student stared at me for too long, I noticed Carla's gaze shift toward them. The students always looked away immediately.

It was strange. He wouldn't even speak to me. Yet somehow, no one dared bother me while he was there.

Classes continued until the afternoon before everyone was dismissed for a short break.

Karl was summoned by one of the Academy guards. Adrian received a message from the Healing Wing. Darius complained loudly about having mandatory combat drills before jogging away toward the arena.

For the first time all day, I was alone.

I wandered through the corridors, taking my time as I admired the portraits hanging on the stone walls. Every painting seemed to tell another piece of the Academy's long history.

Eventually, the bell rang again. Students hurried toward their next lesson. I followed the crowd until I reached another large classroom.

This time, I chose a seat near the middle instead of the front. Maybe I would attract less attention.

I had barely opened my notebook when the room suddenly became unusually quiet. The conversations stopped. Even the students who had been laughing only moments earlier fell silent.

Confused, I looked toward the doorway.

A young woman stepped inside. She carried herself with effortless confidence, her perfectly pressed uniform fitting her like it had been tailored by royalty.

Long chestnut hair fell neatly over one shoulder, and her striking green eyes swept calmly across the room.

Students greeted her respectfully. Some even moved aside to let her pass. She acknowledged them with a graceful nod before continuing farther inside.

Then, her eyes found mine. She stopped walking. For several long seconds, she simply watched me.

The room held its breath.

Without breaking eye contact, she changed direction and walked straight toward my desk, each step echoing across the silent classroom.

As she stopped beside me, I slowly rose from my seat. Neither of us spoke.

Around us, every student watched in complete silence.

The corners of her lips lifted into a small, unreadable smile.

Then she finally opened her mouth to speak.