Claimed by Alpha and Beta: The Silent Wolf

RAYE'S POV "Move." The word came with a shove hard enough to slam my shoulder into the academy's stone wall. My books hit the floor in a scatter of pages and pencils. One notebook fell open, my careful handwriting exposed to the entire corridor like a wound nobody had asked to see. Someone's boot came down on the page before I could reach it. I looked up. Marcus Vale stood over me, three of his friends fanned out behind him like an audience waiting for the show to start. His smile was lazy. Cruel. The kind of expression that had never once had to answer for itself. "Oops." He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even try. "Marcus." Lila's voice cut through the crowd before I'd even processed what happened. She shoved through the gathering circle of students like she was daring someone to stop her. "Pick up her books." He looked at her, amused. "Did she ask you to speak for her?" "She doesn't have to ask." "She never speaks at all." He shrugged, lazy and cruel in equal measure. "So really, what's the difference?" A few students laughed. My stomach twisted into something small and ashamed. I lowered my eyes and reached for my notebook. Marcus kicked it further out of reach. "Maybe learn to communicate before showing up at Mooncrest." "She communicates just fine," Lila snapped, planting herself between us like a wall made entirely of spite. "Through you." He laughed. "You're basically her mouth at this point." More laughter. Heat crawled up my neck and settled somewhere behind my eyes, hot and humiliating. My fingers curled into fists so tight my nails bit half-moons into my palms. I wanted to tell him to shut up. I wanted to tell every single person watching that I wasn't stupid, wasn't broken, wasn't some charity case Lila dragged around out of pity. I wanted to scream it until the walls shook. Instead, I swallowed it. All of it. The way I always did. Lila crouched and snatched my notebook off the floor before turning back to Marcus, chin high. "One day she's going to punch you so hard you'll finally learn to shut up." Marcus grinned, delighted. "Really? Then tell her to try." His eyes slid to me, daring. I shook my head. Not because I was afraid of him, I wasn't, not really, not in the way he assumed. I shook my head because I knew exactly how this story ended if I threw the first punch. I'd be dragged in front of the Dean by dinner. He'd walk away with a bruised ego and a story about defending his pride. And I'd become the entertainment for the rest of the semester. Lila sighed, long and irritated, and handed me the notebook. "Fine. Come on." I followed her, spine rigid, refusing to look back. Behind us, Marcus called out, delighted with himself. "Run along, little mute." My steps stopped dead. For half a second, the corridor disappeared. The students. Lila. All of it, swallowed by a single, blistering thought. “I am not mute.” My hand rose to my throat without permission. I could speak. I simply chose not to. There was a difference — a vast, aching difference — and I had never once been brave enough to explain it to anyone, least of all people who'd already decided what I was. "Raye?" Lila's voice pulled me back. I turned to find her studying me, sharp and careful. "You okay?" I nodded. She clearly didn't believe a word of that nod. "You're doing the thing again." I frowned, silently demanding an explanation. "The death stare. The one that makes freshmen reconsider their life choices." I blinked, and despite everything, felt the corner of my mouth twitch. "You know," she said, "for someone who refuses to talk, your face is unbelievably loud." I rolled my eyes so hard it nearly hurt. She grinned, victorious. "There she is." A small, traitorous smile escaped before I could stop it. The bell rang, sharp and clanging through the stone corridors. Lila grabbed my hand. "Come on, we're late, and if Marcus gets to homeroom before us, I will actually commit a crime." I let her pull me toward the main hall, half-laughing without a sound. Mooncrest Academy sprawled across the hillside like something carved from old silver, towers rising above ancient trees, stone walkways worn smooth by centuries of wolves passing through them. Supposedly, it was a place where every kind of wolf could become stronger. Born Wolves. Bitten Wolves. Betas. Omegas. Everyone, the brochure promised, on equal footing. The reality inside the main hall told a very different story. Born Wolves claimed the central tables, dressed in tailored uniforms, backed by private instructors and Alpha masters and family names that opened doors before they'd even knocked. Omega students clung to the edges of the room, no masters, no family support, nothing but each other and whatever nerve they'd managed to scrape together that morning. Lila and I belonged at the edges. Except, technically, I didn't belong anywhere at all. My academy file was a contradiction nobody had ever bothered explaining to me. I'd received a personal invitation — the kind that should have marked me as a Beta, at minimum. But I'd registered manually, quietly, without ceremony, and that single administrative choice had bumped me down to Omega before I'd even set foot on campus. Nobody understood why. Honestly, neither did I. Except I knew exactly who had sent that invitation in the first place. Cassian. My fingers tightened around my bag strap so hard the leather creaked. Just his name, even silent in my own head, made my heart do something entirely unreasonable. Lila caught the shift in my face instantly. "Oh no." I looked at her, all innocence. "Don't," she said. I raised an eyebrow, daring her to elaborate. "You were thinking about him." I shook my head, fast and unconvincing. "You were." "Raye." I pointed toward the classroom with the sharp, exaggerated urgency of someone changing the subject as violently as possible. She laughed, delighted. "Changing the subject won't save you." I instantly walked faster. "Fine!" she called after me, jogging to catch up. "But when Professor Cassian walks in and you start staring at him like he personally hung the moon, don't blame me for staring right back and laughing." I stopped so abruptly she nearly collided with my back. "What?" I pointed at myself. Then at her. Then crossed my arms, glaring with everything I had. She stared, delighted. "Are you threatening me right now?" I nodded, dead serious. "That's adorable." She burst out laughing. "Truly terrifying. I'm shaking." I glared harder, fighting a smile that wanted out anyway. For one blessed moment, I forgot about Marcus. Forgot the stares, the whispers, the low simmering shame that lived somewhere under my ribs. Then the classroom doors opened, and every trace of laughter in the room died at once. Cassian walked in. Every student straightened without being told. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to threaten a single soul. His presence alone rearranged the air in the room, made it heavier, sharper, impossible to ignore. Tall, composed, dressed in the black instructor's uniform, the silver Alpha insignia on his chest catching the morning light like it had been forged specifically to draw the eye. My heart stumbled over itself. Lila leaned close, whispering out of the side of her mouth. "Don't stare." I looked away immediately, too fast, which was somehow worse. "Too late," she murmured, smug. Cassian crossed to the instructor's desk, gaze sweeping the room with the practiced ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times. Then it stopped. On me. I froze completely. For one long, terrible second, I forgot how to breathe. Something shifted in his expression. Recognition, subtle, restrained, but unmistakably there. "Raye Hart." My heart nearly detonated in my chest. I nodded, unable to trust anything else. His gaze held mine a beat longer than strictly necessary. "You're in my combat class this year." I nodded again, throat tight. He studied me another moment, something flickering behind his composed expression. Then, quieter — almost gentle, almost private, meant only for me despite the full classroom watching — "It's been a long time." My chest tightened until it ached. He remembered. After everything. After all these years of silence and distance and pretending I'd built a wall thick enough to keep the memory of him out — he remembered. The girl he had saved. The girl he had brought here, to Mooncrest, when no one else wanted her. The girl who had never, not once, managed to forget him. I dropped my eyes before he could read anything further written across my face. "Take your seats," he said, turning back to the room, voice level and commanding. Everyone moved at once. Lila tugged me toward our desks, practically vibrating with barely restrained glee. "He *remembered* you," she whispered the second we sat down. I stared hard at the surface of my desk, refusing to engage. She nudged my elbow. "Raye?" I scrawled two words into my notebook and shoved it toward her. “Stop it.” She read it, grinned wide, and whispered, "Fine." A pause, dragged out for maximum torment. "But you're blushing." I yanked the notebook back so fast the pages fluttered. She clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole. The lesson began, and for a few merciful minutes, everything felt almost normal. Until the window exploded.