The hall buzzed with tension, a constant thrum of movement and scent and energy. Even after Rhea—no, Rian—had passed through the checkpoint, her shoulders remained rigid, every nerve pulled taut beneath the surface of her skin.
She stepped further into the grand receiving chamber, an enormous stone-clad hall with vaulted ceilings and long banners bearing the academy’s sigil—three interlocking wolves encircling a crescent moon. Rows of recruits were slowly being filtered into smaller groups, each assigned to a row of registrars seated behind wide tables draped in black and silver. There was no warmth in the way they handled the process. Names were called. Questions asked. Files handed over. No one smiled.
The scents were stronger here. Dozens of wolves packed into one space—dominant, anxi
