The Alpha Academy Never knew My Name

CHAPTER FOUR

The meeting with Alpha Draven lasted four minutes.

I counted every second of it.

His office sat at the top of the administration building, all dark wood and cold light, and he did not stand when I walked in. He just looked at me over steepled fingers, the same sharp features as Kai, the same unreadable stillness, except colder, older, like whatever warmth Kai still had left had been burned out of his father decades ago.

“Maren Cole,” he said, testing the name in his mouth like he was checking it for weight.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Adopted into the Cole pack eighteen years ago,” he said. “Interesting timing.”

I did not know what to say to that, so I said nothing, which felt like the safest option in a room that smelled like money and old secrets.

He studied me for another long moment, then waved one hand toward the door without another word, like I had already given him whatever he came for just by standing there long enough for him to look.

That was it.

No questions about Selene and about my grades or my rank. Just a name tested in his mouth and a look that made my skin crawl for reasons I could not put into words.

I walked out shaking and did not tell anyone where I had been.

By lunch, word had already spread anyway, because nothing at this school stayed quiet, and Selene cornered me outside the dining hall with her arms crossed and her face twisted into something ugly.

“You went to see Alpha Draven, personally.” she said. “Why the hell would he want to see you?

“I do not know,” I said honestly.

“Bullshit,” she snapped. “Nobody just gets summoned by the head of the most powerful pack at this school for no reason. What did you tell him?

“Nothing,” I said. “He barely said ten words to me.”

She stepped closer, voice dropping low and mean.

“Listen to me,” she said. “Whatever weird little spotlight you think you are getting, it ends now. You are not here to be interesting. You are here to carry my bags and keep your mouth shut. If you embarrass this family by getting yourself involved in something above your pay grade, my father will make your life a living hell, and honestly, so will I.”

“I already know what your father is capable of,” I said quietly. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Something flickered in her eyes, almost uncertainty, gone as fast as it appeared.

“Good,” she said. “Then remember it.”

She turned and walked off before I could say anything else, leaving me standing there with my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

The afternoon got worse from there.

Combined intake and mid tier class that day, some kind of joint drill designed to force unranked students to work alongside ranked ones under pressure. I ended up grouped with Selene, Derek, and a girl named Priya who barely spoke, running through a supply relay that required carrying weighted packs across the yard without dropping them.

It should have been simple.

Then Selene, halfway through the drill, deliberately shoved her pack into my arms on top of my own, muttering something about needing a break, and walked off toward the sidelines just as Bram turned around to check progress.

“Cole,” Bram barked, seeing me struggling under double the weight. “Where is your partner's pack?

“I have it,” I said through gritted teeth, arms shaking under the strain.

“Then why are you carrying two?" he demanded. “Where is Selene Cole?

Selene reappeared instantly, breathless, playing exhausted like she had been running the whole time.

“Sorry,” she said sweetly. “I twisted my ankle, Maren offered to help.”

Bram's eyes narrowed, clearly not buying it, but he did not have proof, and Selene knew exactly how to make herself look innocent in front of an audience.

“I do not need her charity,” I muttered, low enough that only she could hear.

She smiled, sharp and satisfied.

“Then drop it,” she said. “ And see how fast Bram writes you up for insubordination.

I did not drop it. I finished the drill carrying both packs, arms screaming, humiliation burning hotter than the exhaustion, while half the yard watched and said nothing, because saying something meant standing against Selene, and nobody here was willing to do that for a girl nobody outside the Cole house cared about.

Derek at least had the decency to look uncomfortable about it.

“That is f****d up,” he muttered to Priya, just loud enough that I heard it. “Selene does this every year to somebody new.”

Priya did not answer, neither did I. I just kept moving, because stopping meant thinking about it, and thinking about it meant letting the anger climb somewhere dangerous.

By the time the drill ended, my hands were shaking, and not from the weight.

I went straight back to my room instead of the dining hall, dropped both packs by the door, and sat down hard on the narrow bed, breathing through the tight, humming pressure building behind my ribs again, the same one that had been getting worse every single day since I walked through those gates.

That was when I noticed the closet door was slightly open.

I did not remember leaving it that way.

I stood up carefully, wolf senses already sharpening without permission, and pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Nothing looked disturbed. Same empty hangers, same half peeled name tag residue where Liana Voss's name had been scratched into the wood. Except now, tucked into the corner behind the baseboard where the wood had warped away from the wall, there was something that had not been there before.

A folded piece of paper.

I pulled it out carefully, hands trembling slightly, and unfolded it under the dim light.

It was torn, edges rough like it had been ripped from something bigger, a journal maybe, or a file. Most of the writing had faded or smudged beyond reading, except for a handful of words scrawled in different ink, like someone had come back to the same page multiple times, adding to it in a hurry.

...bloodline was not supposed to survive.....

...if the Ashwood child is still alive, everyone involved in eighteen years ago is at risk.....

...find her before Draven does.....

My whole body went cold.

Ashwood.

I had seen that word once already, torn and half legible on the page I found the first week, and I had filed it away without letting myself think too hard about it, because thinking too hard about it felt like opening a door I was not ready to walk through.

Now it was staring back at me twice, tied to the exact family whose head had just spent four silent minutes studying my face like he was checking it against a memory.

Find her before Draven does.

My hands were shaking so badly the paper crinkled in my grip.

A knock hit the door.

I shoved the paper into my pocket instantly, heart slamming, and opened it to find Kai standing there, still in his training gear, one shoulder leaning against the frame like he had every right in the world to be standing outside my room.

“Who the f**k let you know which room was mine? I demanded, too rattled to filter it.

He did not even blink at the language.

“I asked around,” he said simply. “Turns out people are very willing to give me information when I ask nicely.”

“I do not want you here,” I said, even though my wolf, traitor that it was, surged toward the door the second his scent hit me, that same dangerous pull curling low and hot in my stomach.

He tilted his head slightly, gaze dropping to the front of my shirt where the folded paper had left a faint crease through the fabric, then back up to my face, something sharpening behind his eyes.

“You are shaking,” he said. “What happened?

“Nothing,” I said, the lie coming out weaker than usual, my voice cracking slightly on the single word.

He stepped closer instead of taking the hint, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze, close enough that the humming pressure in my chest turned into something sharper, something my whole body recognized before my brain caught up.

“You keep saying nothing,” he said quietly. “And every single time, your heart rate says otherwise.”

“Maybe you should stop listening to my heart rate then," I snapped, breathless despite myself.

“Maybe,” he agreed, voice dropping lower, rougher, and did not move away at all.

The air between us went thick and charged, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him, close enough that some reckless, exhausted part of me stopped caring about every rule I had spent a lifetime building.

Then his eyes flicked down to my pocket again, to the faint outline of folded paper pressed against my hip, and whatever heat had been building in his expression sharpened into something else entirely.

“What is that?" he asked, voice suddenly flat and focused.

“It’s nothing,” I said again, stepping back on instinct, one hand pressing protectively over my pocket.

He caught my wrist before I could pull further away, not hard, but firm enough that I felt the strength underneath it, firm enough that my wolf went still and alert instead of afraid.

“Maren,” he said, my name low and rough in a way that made my pulse spike embarrassingly loud. “Show me.”

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear every beat of it.

“I do not owe you anything," I said, even as I did not pull my wrist free.

He leaned in slightly, close enough now that his mouth was almost against my ear, close enough that every nerve in my body lit up at once.

“No,” he agreed quietly. “You don’t.”

Then his voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper, rough with something that sounded dangerously close to want.

“But you are hiding something that has my father's attention,” he said. “And whatever it is..... I am going to find out one way or another. The only question is whether you let me in, or whether I find it myself.”

Before I could answer, before I could even decide whether I wanted to shove him away or pull him closer, his hand slid down from my wrist to the edge of my pocket, fingers brushing against the paper hidden there, and my entire body went rigid with the realization that in about two seconds, he was going to know exactly what I had been hiding since the day I found the first torn page with that same name written on it.