Undercover At The Alpha Academy

Room Nine Ninety-Four

As we followed the flickering lights deeper into the woods, the air grew colder. The scent of pine and damp earth filled our lungs. Every footstep crunched softly against fallen leaves and twigs, but no one dared to speak. The forest seemed to watch us. The tall trees leaned in like they were eavesdropping.

Then, through the thinning mist, the academy emerged from the darkness.

It didn’t rise. It loomed. Built from gray stone that had blackened over time, the structure had towering spires and high, jagged walls. It looked less like a school and more like a fortress. It wasn’t built to keep threats out. It looked like it was meant to contain something inside.

We stopped just beyond the iron gates. Torches lit the perimeter, their flames dancing like restless spirits.

A tall figure stood waiting.

Her cloak was the color of ravens. It was so black it swallowed the firelight. The moment we saw her, the shuffling and whispering died out. Even the boys who had been trying to impress each other with bravado just moments before, snapped into uneasy silence.

Her eyes shimmered with a strange amber glow, subtle but unmistakable. Alpha blood. Ancient. Dangerous.

"Line up," she barked.

We scrambled into position. I stood shoulder to shoulder with Milo, my heart pounding faster than I liked.

"I am Professor Morrigan," she announced. Her voice echoed slightly off the stone around us. "You are not here because you are strong. You are here because you must become strong. You will be tested in mind, in body, and loyalty."

She walked down the line slowly, her boots crunching against the gravel. Her gaze passed over each of us like a judgment.

"The weak will fall. The liars will be exposed. You will not all make it through the year."

My stomach twisted. My fingers curled into fists at my sides.

Then she stopped and faced us again.

"Welcome to Dawnwood," she said coldly. "You may all die here."

Milo leaned in, voice barely a whisper. “She’s fun.”

I didn’t laugh.

"Quiet!" Professor Morrigan snapped, her eyes landing directly on me. For a moment, it felt like she could see right through me. Through the disguise. Through everything.

Then she turned back to the crowd.

"You may proceed to the dining hall," she said, and with a swirl of her cloak, she vanished through the gates.

The crowd began to move. Slowly at first, then faster, like we were all eager to be anywhere but under her stare.

"This feels a bit like Hogwarts, don’t you think?" Milo murmured beside me.

"Hogwarts isn’t real. It’s something the humans made up," I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

"Boo, you’re no fun," he said, rolling his eyes. But there was no real bite to it.

We walked through the great stone archway and entered the main hallway. The walls were lined with portraits in heavy wooden frames, old and a little faded. Some of them looked recent, others ancient. Some of the people in the paintings had strange eyes or were caught mid-shift, wolves with human features. One portrait, in particular, had a plaque that read "Class of 1891," and the student in it had a twisted grin and eyes that followed me as I passed.

The hallway led us to the dining hall. The moment we stepped inside, the warmth of the massive hearths hit us. It should have been comforting, but instead it felt oppressive, like heat trying too hard to be welcoming.

Three long tables ran the length of the room, each lit with flickering chandeliers. Above us, the ceiling arched high with exposed beams, and the windows were too narrow to see anything through.

Milo let out a low whistle. “Okay, Hogwarts. But only for scary werewolves.”

I gave him a look, but he grinned and pulled me toward the third table, where a few seats were open.

Even though dozens of students filled the room, I still felt a specific stare on me. Heavy. Intense. Like someone had been waiting for me to arrive.

I didn’t look. I didn’t want to see who it was.

Once we were seated, a tall man stepped up to the podium near the teachers' table. He had silver-streaked hair and sharp, hawk-like eyes. His posture alone demanded attention.

"Good evening, students," he began. "I am Headmaster Wulfric. Welcome to Dawnwood Academy."

His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it. He had clearly said these words many times, and seen many students come and go. Mostly go.

"Before we begin our feast, I must inform you of a new change to our housing system. This year, first-years will no longer room with fellow newcomers. Instead, you will share rooms with upperclassmen."

The announcement sent a murmur rippling through the room. A few students groaned softly. Others looked surprised. A few looked downright nervous.

"Aww, I was hoping we could be roommates," Milo muttered, resting his chin on his hand.

"So was I," I said, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it.

"Do not worry," the headmaster continued. "This change will benefit you. Your senior roommates will serve as your guides, mentors, and, if necessary, your disciplinarians. They know this academy well. Learn from them."

He paused for a long moment, eyes sweeping over the crowd.

"At the end of your meal, you will each receive a paper with your room number. Your roommate will find you shortly after. Until then, enjoy your meal."

He stepped away, and soft music began to play from an unseen source. Platters of steaming meat, roasted vegetables, and golden bread rolls appeared on the tables as if conjured by magic. The scent was overwhelming.

“Now this is more like it,” Milo said, already piling his plate.

I took a more modest portion and tried to eat like a normal boy would. Proper. Quiet. In control.

"You eat so properly," Milo said between bites. "Reminds me of my little sister."

I nearly choked on my water.

“Oh! I have a sister too. We always eat together. Maybe that’s why,” I said, laughing awkwardly.

“Makes sense. I’m done. You ready to see our rooms?”

“Yup,” I said quickly, wiping my mouth and setting down my napkin. The paper had been left quietly beside my plate.

I unfolded it. "Nine ninety-four."

Milo opened his with a grin. "Nine ninety-three. We’re next to each other. That’s awesome."

We followed the signs through winding corridors and spiraling staircases, climbing higher and higher into the student wing. The air got thinner. The hallways narrower. At last, on the ninth floor, we reached the rooms.

Milo gave me a thumbs-up before disappearing into room nine ninety-three.

I took a breath and opened the door to mine.

The room was dimly lit, with tall windows showing nothing but black sky. Two beds. Two desks. One figure already seated.

He sat on the edge of the bed, arms resting on his knees, back straight. I didn’t need to see his face to know.

Adrien.

That same presence I had felt in the dining hall. Overwhelming. Cold and confident.

I tried to step back instinctively, but it was too late. He turned toward me.

His eyes met mine. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

A smirk curled his lips. Something knowing. Something dangerous.

I had a bad feeling.

I’m screwed.