Alpha's Disguised Roommate

Sasha's POV The stench of burning parchment clung to my jacket, smoke threading through every fiber like a curse as I ran. Cold night air tore across my face like icy razors. My lungs screamed. My legs burned. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. His voice still echoed throughout the estate—thunderous and enraged. My father’s voice. “Find her. Now. She doesn’t leave this house unless it’s in a wedding dress!” Each word cracked across my spine like a whip. I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t need to. I could still feel the mansion looming behind me like a predator. Windows spilled golden light like bleeding wounds. That cursed place, my prison for nineteen years. The house where my mother once sang lullabies was now nothing but a tomb, hollowed by silence and control. But tonight... I escaped. Barely. The plan had been reckless. Desperate. But it worked. I’d broken into my mother’s abandoned study, my only sanctuary, and set fire to every trace of myself. My ID. My birth certificate. My name. Gone in flames. Only Sasha Dean remained. A ghost wearing skin and secrets. And even ghosts needed somewhere to hide. That’s why I chose the Alpha Training Academy, the one place my father’s power couldn’t reach. A fortress cloaked as a school. Ruthless. Elite. Male-only. Surrounded by ancient forests and hidden beneath treaties, no alpha dared challenge. No one would think to look for me there. Not under a false name. Not with forged documents and a potion that would mask my scent for thirty days. Just long enough to vanish. I stumbled down a gravel slope, nearly falling face-first into the cold earth. My breath came in ragged bursts, my fingers locked tight around a forged enrollment letter. At the bottom of the hill, a rusted pickup idled like a mechanical beast. Its headlights carved sharp shadows through the fog. I yanked open the passenger door and threw myself inside. The driver, a silent rogue I bribed with emeralds and wolfsbane, didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. Just hit the gas. Good. He didn’t need to know who I was. He just needed to drive like hell. Two days later. The iron gates of the Alpha Training Academy loomed like a warning. Spiked and rune-etched, they clawed at the bruised sky. The wind cut through my jacket like teeth. I pulled my beanie lower, tucked away every strand of hair. No makeup. No softness. Just pale lips, shadowed eyes, and a face shaped by desperation and dirt. “You sure you want this?” asked the admissions officer, flipping through my falsified file with a raised brow. “I’m sure,” I replied, lowering my voice, flattening every vowel, mimicking the boys who used to bloody their knuckles on my ribs behind the manor walls. “Rowan Dean, huh?” he said, scanning the page. "Says you’re a transfer from East Wing Military Camp. Never heard of it.” “Small place. Shut down last winter.” A beat of silence. Then a grunt. “We’ll see how long you last.” I didn’t blink. Challenge accepted. Orientation reeked of sweat, aggression, and overcompensation. Testosterone filled the air like smoke. Boys barked laughter and circled each other like wolves, already trying to establish dominance. I stayed low. Quiet. Every movement calculated. Every breath measured. The potion I’d taken cloaked my scent for now. But it wouldn’t last forever. One slip, one exposed truth, and I’d be dead before my wolf could blink. A glowing board sparked to life in the hall, names and dorm assignments scrolling in flickering blue letters. ROWAN DEAN – DORM 17B – ROOMMATE: A. KNIGHT Knight? My pulse stumbled. The name didn’t ring bell in public history, but something about it felt... wrong. Familiar in the way a shadow feels before it moves. I swallowed it. Just another boy. Probably. Slinging my duffel over my shoulder, I made my way to the west wing. Past archery yards and sparring pits — past the bloodstains of other hopefuls who didn’t survive their first week. Dorm 17B sat at the end of a narrow hall, its lights flickering, shadows slipping through cracks in the stone walls. My wolf stirred. Alert. Not from danger. From something else. Power. Old. Quiet. Coiled tight like a drawn bowstring. I reached for the doorknob. Inhaled. And stepped inside. The room was cold. Bare. Two beds. One wardrobe. A single window overlooking the courtyard, the kind of window meant more for watching than for escape. One bed was already claimed. A black leather jacket was draped across the sheets. Its scent hit me instantly. Pine. Smoke. Leather. But under that, something darker. Something... commanding. Alpha. I froze. The bathroom door creaked. A shadow moved. And then he stepped out. Dripping wet. Towering. Bare-chested with water running in rivulets over carved muscle and old scars. A towel slung low on his hips. But it was his eyes that made me forget how to breathe. Storm-gray. Cold. Ageless. He stopped mid-step. His gaze locked with mine. The room suddenly felt too small. “You’re the new roommate?” he asked, his voice low, rough, like thunder trapped in a man’s throat. “Yeah,” I said. Too fast. Too light. I cleared my throat and deepened it. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You smell…” Shit. No. Not already. The potion should still be working. “…familiar.” I forced a casual shrug. “Maybe we trained together?” He didn’t answer. “Name?” he asked instead. “Rowan Dean.” A pause. Then he brushed past me, and his scent wrapped around my throat like smoke. My wolf flinched. He dropped onto his bed without ceremony and cracked open a water bottle. No shame. No hesitation. Just control. Effortless. “Alex Knight,” he said. “Try not to snore. I don’t sleep much.” I blinked. Alex Knight. Not an Elite. Not anyone famous. No history attached. Just a ghost like me, hiding behind a name. But something about him screamed more. Like his skin was wearing a lie. Like there was another name buried beneath his tongue. One that could tear kingdoms apart. My wolf whimpered beneath my skin, unsure. Drawn. But I shoved her down. This wasn’t about fate. Or instincts. Or curiosity. This was about survival. And I would survive, even if it meant sharing a room with the most dangerous mystery I’d ever met. Even if Alex Knight’s name already pulsed through me like a secret, I couldn’t afford to learn.