a standing chance
1472 Words
Serena:
"Goddess help me... do you simply lack the capacity to take a hint?" Dorian tilted his head, his tone dripping with effortless arrogance as he demanded an explanation for my presence.
"The official notice clearly states that admissions are open to any candidate," I countered, standing with my posture straight and my hands folded neatly in front of me. I refused to let his intimidating presence force me to bow down.
He leaned back slightly in his leather seat, keeping his sharp gaze locked onto me. His massive, muscular frame seemed entirely too large for the office furniture.
He had removed his dark suit jacket, leaving him in a fitted light blue dress shirt that strained against the broad contours of his chest and shoulders.
"No. I have already informed you that you are barred from applying," he answered flatly, rocking back in his chair with a smirk that was infuriatingly handsome.
If he would simply keep his mouth shut, he would easily be the most visually striking man I had ever seen—much like his brothers, though each of them possessed an equally insufferable disposition.
"Except the official notice says—" I began, unfolding my hands to gesture toward the paper on his desk. Before I could finish my sentence, he sat forward abruptly, snatched the wet form from under my fingers, and casually tore it down the middle.
"Where? Show me where it says that," he mocked, ripping the paper into smaller shreds and letting them flutter to the floor before leaning back once more. I stared at him in absolute shock.
How could he act with such blatant abuse of power?
"If you have no further business, show yourself out," he said dismissively, rolling his broad shoulders with a indifferent shrug.
"You are unbelievable," I blurted out, unable to contain my outrage at his shameless hostility.
"Is this because I'm your step-sister? Or is this just how you treat anyone who doesn't come from a wealthy bloodline?" I demanded, raising my voice as his unbothered composure only fueled my anger. He sat there acting completely justified in his blatant prejudice.
"I know exactly what game you're playing. Everyone on this campus knows who I am, so feel free to raise your voice—no one is going to come to your rescue. Stop wasting your energy and leave," he instructed coolly, flicking his gaze toward the exit.
I firmly shook my head, refusing to back down.
"I will take this directly to your father," I threatened, but he merely held my gaze without a flinch. A slow, infuriating smirk spread across his features.
"By all means, go right ahead," he shrugged, entirely unconcerned.
Before I could fire back, the heavy double doors swung open, and two figures strode into the room.
"I just had thirty students fail my mid-term assessment," a smooth, familiar voice complained.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Zane entering alongside Riven. Zane was dressed in a sharp black suit, his jacket open and his tie loosened at the collar, with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dark hair was pulled back into a messy knot, with a few loose strands framing his face.
Riven, by contrast, wore only a tight black athletic shirt that stretched taut over his heavy musculature, paired with dark trousers. Their conversation ground to a sudden halt the moment their eyes landed on me.
"What is she doing in here?" Riven made no effort to conceal his irritation. He slammed a heavy ledger onto the desk, glaring at me as if trying to force me to shrink back.
"She arrived with the delusion that she's applying for enrollment," Dorian replied casually, watching his brother's expression.
"What?" Riven let out a harsh laugh, looking as though the idea was the most absurd thing he had heard all day.
"And your brother just shredded the official application form I presented," I added, taking a small step back from Riven, whose aggressive posture was decidedly threatening.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dorian cracking his knuckles at my blunt statement.
"I was under the impression this institution operated on equal opportunity for all applicants. Clearly, I was mistaken. It seems Lord Dorian actively bars anyone he deems beneath his personal standards from even entering the gates," I stated, my voice steady despite the tension. I had no intention of leaving without striking a blow to his pride.
"I'm sure the student body would be fascinated to learn that Lord Dorian's public ethics don't apply behind closed doors," I pressed further, noticing how his hazel eyes narrowed into dangerous slits with every word.
Riven stood beside the desk, darting his eyes between me and his brother, clearly waiting for Dorian to snap.
"She is completely out of line. Are you really going to sit there and take that from her?" Riven provoked, gesturing aggressively in my direction.
"Riven, drop the dramatics. We aren't children," Zane interjected smoothly, his calm voice cutting through the rising hostility. Zane finished setting a stack of folders onto a side table, then walked over to stand near the desk, folding his arms across his chest as he observed the situation.
"She's the one acting like a child! How does she expect to pass standard evaluations without an active wolf spirit? Is she trying to turn our admissions process into a joke?" Riven barked, stepping back to let Dorian handle the matter.
"You've said your piece, and we heard you. Are you finished now? Has your frustration been adequately vented?" Dorian's voice was dropping to an icy, dangerous register, yet his surface composure remained unbroken.
I had hoped to push him far enough to cause a scene, but he simply maintained that unnerving, cold authority.
"You heard what was said. You aren't welcome here. Get out," Riven barked, reinforcing his brother's stance as I looked between the three of them.
A heavy wave of helplessness settled over me. I had been cast out of the estate, and now I was being actively blocked from even attempting to build a future here.
Clenching my fists, I turned toward the exit, ready to leave, when a calm voice broke the silence. It came from my fated mate—the man who had no idea of the bond that tied us together.
"Why shouldn't she be allowed to apply?" Zane's quiet question made me freeze in my tracks. I turned back around to face the brothers. Dorian stretched his neck, turning his head slowly toward Zane as if checking if he had misheard. Dorian then stood up from the executive chair, stepping aside to let Riven take the seat. It was in that moment I realized Riven was actually the one tasked with processing candidate paperwork; Dorian had merely been overseeing the desk.
"Because I have no intention of processing her," Riven stated bluntly, dropping into the leather chair.
"That isn't how protocol works," Zane countered smoothly, adjusting his dark jacket and slipping one hand into his pocket. "You don't get to arbitrarily disqualify candidates based on personal dislike. We maintain standardized regulations, and we don't bend them for personal grievances."
"Zane, drop it. We don't need this headache today. A collective decision was made, and we expect you to stand with your family," Riven insisted firmly, while Dorian remained standing near the window.
Dorian leaned back against the glass frame to my left, crossing his arms over his chest while keeping his sharp gaze fixed entirely on me. I could feel the weight of his eyes tracking my every breath, assessing my reactions as his brothers argued over my fate.
"I will gladly stand with you when a decision is grounded in logic. But I won't blindly support abuse of administrative authority. If she wants to register, let her submit the form. Give her the same evaluation every other applicant receives. Don't act as though her mere presence threatens this institution," Zane stated, his tone sharp and decisive.
Riven glared up at him, muttering a harsh curse under his breath. He slumped back into the leather chair, his jaw tightly set as his fingers dug into the mahogany armrests.
"You—take this and complete it immediately," Zane commanded, reaching onto the desk to grab a fresh candidate registration sheet and extending it toward me.
I didn't hesitate for a single second. I stepped forward and snatched the paper from his hand. Riven and Dorian watched in heavy silence as I gripped the document tightly against my chest, turned on my heel, and swiftly exited the office.
As I hurried down the hallway, a single question echoed repeatedly in my mind—why had Zane chosen to stand up for me? Did some faint memory of our fated bond still linger in his subconscious
- Writer
