Ruling the Blackthorne Brothers' Hearts

POV: Aria Vale The gates of Blackthorn Academy weren't supposed to exist. If you were human, you walked straight through Blackwood Territory and saw nothing but trees. If you were packless, you got lost. If you were what I was — an 18-year-old Omega from a pack so minor it wasn't even on the Council maps — you saw them whether you wanted to or not. Black iron, three stories high, swallowed in ivy that moved when there was no wind. Two stone towers on either side, covered in protective runes that glowed silver when you stared straight at them and went dark when you looked away. Past them, the academy itself rose like it had grown out of the forest instead of being built — slate roofs, arched glass, cold white lanterns that never went out. I had spent eighteen years being told I was ordinary. Ordinary blood. Ordinary wolf. Ordinary future. I intended to keep it that way. Get in, keep my head down for my final year, graduate, and leave without belonging to anyone. That plan lasted about five minutes. "Move your luggage. You're blocking the path." Alpha voice. The kind that expects your body to move before your brain catches up. The path was easily fifteen feet wide. My busted suitcase and my mother's old leather bag were taking up two feet, max. I looked over my shoulder. Perfect uniform. Perfect crest — Voss hawk, silver on black, rich-kid energy. He was already looking past me, waiting for me to scramble. "The path is wide enough for both of us," I said. A little pocket of silence opened around us. A few final-year students stopped to stare. "What did you say?" he said. "I said it's wide enough. Unless you need the whole thing for dramatic entrances. In which case, I'll wait." Someone behind me choked on a laugh. The Voss heir's jaw locked. In any other pack, an Omega talking back to an Alpha in public would be a punishable offense. At Blackthorn, apparently, it was just unheard of. He opened his mouth. I picked up my mother's bag — the leather strap worn smooth from years of my hands — and walked past him before he could decide if I was worth the paperwork. I was so tired of being treated like I was less because of a designation I didn't choose. --- Inside the courtyard, it was worse. Everyone belonged to someone. Crests displayed proudly, immaculate uniforms, groups moving with pack precision. Alphas walked and people parted. Betas moved in confident clusters. Omegas like me kept our eyes down and our shoulders small. I didn't. I dragged my suitcase across the cobblestones toward Tower East, feeling every stare and refusing to give them anything back. My mother's bag bumped against my hip. It was heavy, not from weight, but from history. Inside was her notebook — cracked leather, half the pages torn out cleanly. The rest was herb lists, moon charts, and one line that never made sense: Don't let them take her back to the vault. "You're Aria Vale, right?" A girl my age fell into step beside me. Dark hair, sharp eyes, Beta badge that read HART. She grinned like she'd already decided we were friends and I didn't get a vote. "Selene Hart. Your roommate. Tower East, second floor. You're late, by the way. And you just told Cassian Voss to walk around you, which makes you my favorite person ever." "Do you come with the room or are you optional?" I asked. "Oh, you're going to be fun," she said, stealing my suitcase handle anyway. Unlike everyone else, she didn't look at the dull grey Omega mark on my forearm with pity or amusement. She just looked at me. "Come on before the circus arrives." "What circus?" Selene's smile thinned. "The Blackthorn brothers. Academy royalty. Their family owns the territory, their father is Alpha Adrian Blackthorn, their mother terrifies the Council. You don't know them?" "Should I?" She counted on her fingers. "Kael — eldest, 19, heir, final-year, perfect, terrifying, will be Alpha one day. Damon — second, 19, combat captain, lives in the training hall, hits first, thinks later. Lucian — third, 19, quiet one, barely speaks, draws things that make people cry. Rowan — youngest, 18 like us, genius, knows everyone's secrets and pretends he's not listening." "They sound exhausting," I said. Selene burst out laughing. "Exhausting is the word." Then the air changed. It wasn't noise. It was the absence of it. Conversation thinned. Students stepped aside without being told. They were here. Kael walked at the front. I knew without being told. Composed. Serious. Every step measured, like he was already carrying a pack that wasn't his yet. Behind him, Damon, restless, broad-shouldered, like he'd rather be fighting than breathing. Then Lucian, quiet, dark-eyed, seeing everything and saying nothing. And last, Rowan, hands in his pockets, smiling at someone, looking entirely too entertained to be related to the other three. I expected arrogance. I expected them to look through me. Instead, all four stopped. At the same time. Kael's head snapped toward me. His whole body went rigid, wolf-alert. Damon stopped mid-step, nostrils flaring, like he'd caught a scent that made no sense. Lucian blinked hard, his hand twitching like he'd been hit with a memory that wasn't his. Rowan's easy smile faltered. Four Alphas from the most powerful bloodline in the territory, staring at one Omega with a busted suitcase. I assumed they were judging me. Of course they were. --- Kael moved first. He came straight for me, and the crowd let him. "Are you new?" he asked. His voice was low, controlled. The kind of voice people obeyed. I gestured at my uniform, my suitcase, the fact that I was obviously standing in the middle of new-student orientation. "The academy gave me a uniform and a room, so yes. Brilliant deduction." Selene made a small, horrified noise beside me. Kael wasn't used to that. That was obvious. His brows pulled together slightly. He wasn't angry, he was... thrown. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. "I don't particularly care," I said. The courtyard went dead silent. Rowan, behind Kael, made a choked sound that was definitely a laugh. Damon actually grinned. Kael's expression didn't change, but something moved behind his eyes. Amber bleeding into the brown. His wolf pushing close. And I heard it — not me, him. A whisper he didn't mean to say out loud. "Her." One word. Like recognition. Like relief. Like a warning. "What?" I said. He shook his head, like clearing it. His gaze dropped — to my left wrist. My sleeve had slipped when I adjusted my bag. On the inside of my wrist, so faint most people missed it, was a mark I'd had since I was a child. A tiny, silver crescent. Not a tattoo. Not a scar. Just... there. Kael stared at it like he'd seen a ghost. I yanked my sleeve down. "If you're done staring, I have to unpack." I walked away before he could answer. I didn't look back, even though I could feel four sets of eyes burning into my back all the way to Tower East. --- Our dorm room was actually nice — two beds, two desks, a huge window overlooking the forest that shouldn't have been perceivable. I dropped my suitcase and set my mother's bag on the bed like it was fragile. Selene watched it. "Is that... old?" "It was my mom's," I said, unzipping it. The notebook was inside. "Nora Vale." Just for a second — a fraction — Selene's face went blank. Carefully blank. "Do you know that name?" I asked. "No," she said too fast. "Vale isn't a big pack name. I don't think so." It was a lie. Clean, quick, practiced. Selene Hart knew my mother's name. She turned away and started unpacking loudly, talking about classes and uniforms and dining hall rules. I let it go. For now. That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Kael's face when he saw my mark. About Damon tensing like he wanted to come closer and fight something at the same time. About Lucian looking at me like he knew me from a dream. And then I thought about the one thing I hated thinking about. My wolf. Most werewolves hear their wolf by twelve or thirteen. By fourteen you have a name. By sixteen you have arguments in your own head. You are never alone. I had been alone for eighteen years. No voice. No answer. No name. Just silence, like a room where someone should be standing but isn't. For years I thought it meant I was defective. A weak Omega. A mistake my mother left behind. I stared at the stone ceiling of Tower East, listening to the building breathe. Then I heard it. Not a voice. A breath. I sat straight up. My heart was hammering. Nothing. Just wind in the eaves. I lay back down. You're imagining things, Vale. Then I heard it again. Not in my head. Under me. Deep, deep beneath the academy. Slow. Enormous. Thump. Thump. A heartbeat. Not mine. I threw off the covers. My bare feet hit cold stone. I reached under my mattress to hide my mother's notebook so Selene wouldn't ask more questions — and my fingers hit paper. Thick, black paper. Folded once. No dust. Someone had put it there today. I unfolded it. In silver ink that seemed to catch moonlight that wasn't there, was a single symbol. A crescent. Identical to the one on my wrist. "Selene," I whispered. "Do you know what this is?" Selene sat up, blinking. She looked at the paper and her eyes went wide. "Where did you get that?" "Under my mattress. What does it mean?" "I — I don't know. It's probably some stupid initiation prank. Upper-years do that." She reached for it too quickly. "Give it here, I'll throw it out." "You know what it is." "I don't!" Another lie. Worse this time, panicked. I turned to put it on my desk, and in the reflection of the dark window, I watched her — when she thought I wasn't looking — quickly fold it and shove it into her own drawer, hiding it. She recognized it. Meanwhile - Kael stood at his tower window, hands braced on stone, his wolf restless and pacing behind his ribs. Close. She was close. Why can't I see it? Damon slammed his fist into a training dummy in the empty combat hall, but his wolf wasn't interested in training. It kept pulling his attention toward Tower East. Check. Protect. Now. Lucian sat at his desk, sketchbook open. His hand moved without his permission, charcoal smearing. A girl in an old forest, silver light on her wrist, standing in front of a vault door that shouldn't exist. He had never drawn her before. He flipped the page hard. Rowan smiled politely at the night archivist as he pulled a file that should have been easy to find. VALE, ARIA - FINAL YEAR - 18 - OMEGA - PACK: MINOR UNREGISTERED - MOTHER: NORA VALE (DECEASED) - FATHER: [REDACTED - SEALED BY ORDER OF ALPHA COUNCIL] Student files were never sealed by the Alpha Council. Never. Especially not for an Omega from nowhere. For once, Rowan didn't make a joke. --- The great bell outside rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Midnight. The bell never rang at midnight. Selene jolted awake. "What is that?" I was still standing by my desk, my wrist burning faintly where the crescent was. The whole academy had gone completely silent. That heartbeat from below was louder now, faster. And then, after eighteen years of silence, something tore open inside my head. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't kind. It was raw, terrified, and finally, finally awake. "Run." One word. My wolf. My wolf's voice for the first time in my life. My blood went to ice. "Did you hear that?" I whispered. "Hear what? Aria, you're scaring me." Then something scratched against our dormitory door. Slow. Deliberate. A claw dragging from the top of the wood to the bottom. We both stared. Outside, in the dark hallway of Tower East where no student should have been at midnight, something was standing. Breathing. And through the wood, in a voice that was not human and not quite wolf, it whispered my name. "Aria Vale... we finally found you."