Saoirse
Father wants me to “get to know Zaver better.” His words, not mine. Apparently, when I go back to the Academy, I should have someone “close” to me.
And of course, it had to be Zaver.
First ranker. Elite bloodline. The kind of high-class wolf who moves in the same circles as the people I’d rather rip my own throat out than deal with.
I’m sitting there, stewing in my own thoughts, when a low, velvety voice cuts through the air—close enough to warm my ear.
“Thinking too deep?”
I nearly jump out of my seat, my pulse stuttering. My gaze snaps up, and there he is—leaning lazily against the doorframe like he owns the room. Zaver.
I press a hand to my chest and let out a shaky laugh. “You scared me,” I murmur, just under my breath. My voice feels too soft, like I’m afraid it’ll carr
