Chapter 3
803 Words
Nathan's POV
The awkward silence was interrupted by the clicking of silverware. My father's intense anger was palpable from across the dining table. My mother, on the other hand, had a wine glass to her mouth with a satisfied smile.
“You’re reckless,” my father said coldly. “Running off the way you did. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”
I didn't respond. My wolf, Ragnar, bristled beneath my skin, but I kept my expression neutral.
"You came back injured," my father continued, his tone growing more severe. "You're lucky you weren't killed."
I stared at my arm, which had fully recovered. My mind flashed to the forest, to her soft hands wrapping my wound, then to the scent that still lingered in the back of my mind.
"You're weak," my father interrupted my thoughts.
I growled, "I'm not weak."
My mother chuckled softly. "Well, you didn't exactly come back unharmed, darling."
I opened my mouth to respond, but my father slammed his fist onto the table before I could say anything. Plates rattled. "Enough." His eyes darkened with authority as he turned back toward me. "I've made a decision."
Ragnar stirred uneasily beneath my skin.
"You'll be transferring to Nightfang Academy," my father said.
My jaw tightened. "What?"
"It's necessary for your growth," he said. "Nightfang Academy is within the Silvermoon Pack's territory."
My pulse spiked. The Silvermoon Pack was isolated, not exactly hostile, but far from allies. This wasn't just about training; it was political.
"Nightfang is known as the best for combat mastery in the whole realm," my father continued. "If you want to master your wolf and strengthen your instincts, you'll train there."
"But father-"
My father's eyes darkened. "You've lost control twice now. Once is forgivable. Twice is weakness, and an Alpha can't afford weakness."
My fists curled beneath the table. He wasn't wrong. My wolf had slipped free too easily. But this wasn't about strength—it was about punishment.
"You'll leave tomorrow," Father said. "And you won't be going alone."
My mother's smile widened. "Lisa will be joining you."
Lisa? The bratty daughter of the Ashen Pack Alpha?
"Why?" I asked, horrified.
My father's gaze hardened. "Lisa's father offered her presence as a gesture of peace. Her family wants to strengthen ties between our packs. You'll be seen together."
My hands curled into fists beneath the table.
"It's a calculated move," my father continued. "You'll maintain a low profile. No one can know that you're the future Alpha of the Black Moon Pack."
"And if they find out?" I said.
"Then you handle it." His tone was sharp. "Failure isn't an option."
***
The academy was way bigger than I expected; it was fenced with tall stone walls lined with ivy, and it had a massive iron gate that served as the main entrance. The courtyard contained numerous students whose conversations created a loud background noise. My senses were on high alert.
Its reputation preceded it. Nightfang Academy wasn't just a school but also a training ground for Alphas, Betas, and warriors from across the realm who wanted to be stronger.
Lisa was already blending in. She smiled easily at a group of girls, her laugh cutting through the noise. I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, ignoring the stares that followed me.
"Come on, Nathan," Lisa whispered in her sweet voice as she hooked her arm through mine. "We don't want to be late on our first day."
I stiffened as our bodies touched, but didn't pull away. My father's order echoed in my head. Keep a low profile. Be seen with Lisa.
We stepped into the classroom together. Conversations hushed. Heads turned. A few girls whispered, and Lisa smiled, clearly relishing the attention as we walked toward the teacher at the front of the class.
"You must be the new students," the teacher said, adjusting his glasses. "Nathan Black and Lisa Thorne?"
"Yes," Lisa answered brightly, while I gave a short nod.
I was already getting bored… when I smelled it.
Soft and warm. Faintly sweet.
Ragnar surged forward, claws scraping beneath my skin.
I lifted my gaze.
She was sitting near the window, deep auburn curls falling over her shoulder as she scribbled something in her notebook. Sunlight filtered through the glass, catching in her hair like strands of gold. Her scent curled around me, so familiar it made my chest tighten.
My breath hitched. My gaze sharpened.
The memory of her soft hands pressing against my wound flickered through my mind.
Her head lifted as though sensing my gaze. Our eyes met across the room. Her hazel eyes, soft and wide, looked startled as they locked onto mine.
Ragnar howled loudly in my chest.
Mate!
Everything else melted into the background…
I finally found her.
- Writer
