Chapter 6: The Heir’s Entrance
1459 Words
"Ingrid, who just came in?" I whispered, craning my neck to see past the sea of students blocking my view.
She barely spared me a glance before answering, her voice hushed but laced with intrigue. "Atlas Blackwood," she murmured, as if the name alone demanded reverence.“And?”
Ingrid snapped her head toward me so fast I nearly flinched. "And?" she hissed, eyes wide with disbelief. "Aubrey, please, tell me you’re joking.”
I blinked. “Why would I be joking?”
She exhaled in sheer frustration. “Atlas Blackwood,” she repeated, “Son of Lucian Blackwood. Heir to the Blackwood dynasty. The next Alpha is the most powerful werewolf bloodline in existence. People say he was born to rule—like power runs through his veins instead of blood.” She swallowed, lowering her voice even more. “ Like, I have told you a second ago. It's rumored his family has owned Ashwood Academy for generations. The Headmistress? She doesn’t make a single decision without the Blackwoods approving it. They’re more than just a legacy—they’re a dynasty. And Atlas?” Her eyes flickered with something between awe and fear. “Atlas is their perfect heir.”
The weight of the name settled over me, but before I could ask more, the students in front of me shifted, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of him.
Atlas Blackwood ascended the stage with an effortless grace, his movements fluid yet commanding. His back was turned to me, but even from this angle, he exuded authority...broad shoulders wrapped in crisp fabric, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he climbed the steps. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong, veined arms, and beneath the dim lighting of the grand assembly hall, the ink on his skin stood out— against his tanned complexion.
He strode toward his father, Lucian Blackwood, pausing only when he reached him. He leaned in slightly, to whispered something in his ear and whatever he said made Lucian’s expression shift ever so slightly. And he gave him a subtle nod, before Lucian turned toward the Headmistress, murmured something to her, and took a step back.
Headmistress, clearly waiting for this moment, cleared her throat. "A late arrival, I see."
Atlas turned to her with a sharp, almost practiced precision. "Apologies for being late," he said, "Please, continue."
Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, his gaze flicked toward the crowd, scanning, searching, until finally, almost painfully slowly, he turned fully. My breath hitched.
Those blue and green... the exact same eyes that had trapped me in the shadows of the corridor. The same gaze that had stripped me down to my bones, leaving me bare beneath its weight and realization, struck like a physical blow.
The man from the restricted wing. The one who had pinned me to the wall, accused me of lying, and dragged me toward what I thought was my doom.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribs as my gaze swept over him, truly taking him in for the first time. Dark hair, effortlessly tousled yet somehow perfect. A face carved with sharp angles and an intensity that made the air around him feel heavier. His suit, tailored to his athletic build, did nothing to hide the sheer strength beneath. Every detail—every inch of him—was designed to command attention. And he did. Effortlessly. His gaze swept over the crowed until it landed on me.
For one, brief second, his eyes locked onto mine. Every muscle in my body was seized.
I couldn’t let him recognize me so I did what every person with a working mind would do.
I turned sharply, spinning 180 degrees, my only thought was to leave. I wove through the crowd, keeping my movements measured...no sudden reactions, nothing that would draw attention. The last thing I needed was to make a scene. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I neared the exit. Just a few more steps...
“Aubrey?”
I tensed as Ingrid’s voice rang out behind me, followed by quick footsteps.
“Aubrey, where are you going?” she pressed, catching up as we stepped into the quiet hallway outside the assembly hall.
“I—” My mind scrambled for an excuse. “I just needed some air.”
She frowned. “Air? We were standing for like, five minutes.”
I kept walking, but she didn’t let up. “What happened?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. “Liar.”
I exhaled sharply, stopping in my tracks. “I—I saw him.”
She blinked. “Who?”
I hesitated. “Atlas Blackwood.”
She snorted. “Uh, yeah? Everyone just saw him.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I saw him before.”
Her expression shifted slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Before…?”
I swallowed hard. “In the corridor. Earlier today.”
She folded her arms. “And?”
I glanced around, lowering my voice. “He...he pinned me against a wall.”
Ingrid blinked. Then she burst into laughter.
“Oh my god, Aubrey.” She clutched her stomach. “That’s hilarious. You expect me to believe that Atlas freaking Blackwood—heir to the Blackwood dynasty—just took time out of his day to what? Manhandle a random scholarship student?”
I scowled. “I’m serious.”
She wiped a fake tear from her eye. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Ingrid,” I snapped, frustration curling in my chest. “I’m not making this up.”
She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Let’s pretend for a second that you’re telling the truth. What did you do to piss him off?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Right,” she drawled. “Because Atlas totally runs around slamming people into walls for fun.”
I exhaled sharply. “I got lost, okay? That’s it. I didn’t know I was in a restricted area.”
Her smirk faded slightly. “Wait, you actually ran into him?”
I glared. “What have I been saying?”
She let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re lucky he didn’t rip your throat out.”
I stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“You know how powerful the Blackwoods are, right?” Ingrid lowered her voice, glancing around. “They’re not just rich—they run this place. And Atlas is the most powerful Alpha in the history of blackwood bloodlines.”
My stomach sank. “Great,” I muttered.
Ingrid tilted her head. “ Didn’t he recognize you?”
I swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know...”
She studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Well, if he does… you’re screwed.”
“Thanks,” I deadpanned.
She grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you mysteriously disappear one day, I’ll totally start an investigation.”
I shoved her off. “Not funny.”
She only laughed, but as we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that what if Atlas Blackwood had recognized me.
Later that night, the dorm room was silent, save for the faint rustle of sheets as I turned onto my side for what felt like the hundredth time. The moonlight seeped through the curtains in thin, silvery streaks, casting long shadows across the walls. Ingrid’s soft breathing filled the space, steady and unbothered. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, lost in dreams of gowns and glittering chandeliers.
I, however, was wide awake because every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
Atlas Blackwood.
His gaze, blue and green, burned into the backs of my eyelids. It haunted me, pulling me back to the moment our eyes met across the corridor.
I shifted again, tugging the blanket up to my chin. My pulse was still unsteady, like my body hadn’t realized the encounter was over. It wasn’t just the way he looked at me—it was the weight of his presence, the way his voice had curled around my spine like a chain, the way his touch had lingered long after he let go.
And yet, despite the fear that had gripped me earlier, something else was there now. A feeling I couldn’t name.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Stop thinking about him."
But it was useless. His name, his face, the way his muscles tensed beneath inked skin—it all took root in my thoughts, refusing to let go. I didn’t know what Atlas Blackwood was to me yet. An enemy. A danger. A force I wasn’t meant to cross paths with...
- Writer
