Not interested

POV: Nova Ashvale Blood filled my mouth, thick, warm, and metallic. It tasted like finality, a copper-heavy reminder of everything I had lost. I coughed, the force of it tearing through my ravaged lungs, spraying crimson across the cold stone floor of the Greyspire Institute. My vision blurred at the edges, but I didn't need to see clearly to know who stood over me. The scent of ozone, damp stone, and expensive, cloying cologne was unmistakable. Riven, Zael, and Kade—my father’s hand-picked instruments of refinement—watched with cold, clinical curiosity as I clawed at the floor, my fingernails breaking against the unyielding ground. "Still clinging to it, are you?" Zael murmured, his voice laced with that signature, practiced regret that used to make me trust him in the early months. "It really is a shame, Nova. We told you that compliance would be so much less painful but you had to go and make it a spectacle." I couldn't speak, but I fixed him with a stare that held every ounce of my remaining soul. I wanted to lung at him and tear the throat out of the man who had spent four months teaching me exactly how to suffer. Riven stepped forward, the heel of his boot clicking against the stone. He looked down at me, his eyes as hollow and emotionless as polished glass. "You were an anomaly, Nova. The silver-gold wolf doesn't belong in a world governed by order. You were a variable that Gideon Ashvale simply couldn't afford to keep on the ledger. You were destined for the throne, but only as a memory." "You... you’re nothing but monsters," I managed to rasp, the words bubbling out through the blood. My voice sounded foreign, weak, and stripped of the command I once possessed. Kade, who had remained silent until now, let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. He turned his back on me, his posture radiating a brutal, careless strength that had been used to crush my ribs so many times before. "We’re just the ones holding the shovel, princess. Don't flatter yourself with names like that. Monsters imply there’s something supernatural about our work. We’re just doing the cleaning." My legs buckled. I couldn't feel them anymore. My bones felt like dust, ground down by the torture they had inflicted upon me. I wanted to curse them, to promise them a reckoning that would burn their legacy to the ground, but I was past the point of sound. The darkness reached for me, eager and cold. I thought of the future they were stealing and the sister, Nora, who would soon step into my shadow as if it were her birthright, claiming my destined mate and the life that should have been mine. How pathetic. I had been a fool to believe that lineage meant protection. I had been a fool to believe that my father loved me. The darkness swallowed everything, leaving me in a void of silence. No pain. No betrayal. Just the endless, hollow ringing of a life cut short. Then came the light. Not as a transition but as an intrusion. I floated, my spirit unburdened for the first time in nineteen years. I was ready to fade and let go of the fury that had consumed my final moments. But the Moon Goddess appeared as a ripple in the light, her presence both timeless and terrifying. "Nova Ashvale," she spoke, the resonance vibrating in my very soul. "You died a martyr to a man’s greed. You were a rare wolf, a silver-gold anomaly, extinguished before your season. But the weave of fate is not so easily cut. I offer you a gift. A return. You may choose your vessel, and you may choose the power you carry back into the world. But choose wisely. You will be hunted, and you will be hated. Will you rise?" I didn't hesitate. "I accept," I whispered, the words manifesting as iron in my spirit. "I choose the path of the Silver Wraith. I will be the shadow they forgot to fear. I will be the end of their order." The Goddess smiled, and the world shattered into white-hot agony. I gasped, my eyes flying open. I was in a room that smelled of antiseptic and stale panic. I lay perfectly still, my muscles tense. I was eighteen again. Six months before my death. A second chance, granted by the stars. I sifted through the memories of Nova Vane—the girl whose skin I now occupied—feeling nothing but a cold, predatory disdain. ‘She was soft,’ I thought. ‘She bowed her head when she should have bitten back. She apologized for existing when she should have made them pay for looking at her. I will be the stone that breaks them.’ Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Loud, arrogant, and rhythmic. I closed my eyes, feigning unconsciousness as the door creaked open. "She should have died from that fall, but she’s persistent," a voice that belonged to Isabelle Ravenscroft rang out. The same girl who saw competition where none existed. "Is she even breathing?" another girl asked, her voice tight with a mixture of boredom and malice. "She looks like a corpse." "Unfortunately," Isabelle replied. "But don't worry. The Iron Circle is holding court in the arena right now. They’ve got some freshman pinned down. Once they finish there, they’ll have time to come back and ensure the Thorne sisters… or in this case, the pathetic Vane girl is dealt with permanently. It’s just a matter of time before the administration writes her off as an accident.". My heart hammered against my ribs with the familiar, icy anticipation of war. They thought they were the predators of Blackthorn. They had no idea what had just walked through their gates. They thought they were playing a game of social hierarchy; I was playing a game of survival, and I already knew every one of their moves. I opened my eyes, the cold, harsh light of the infirmary reflecting in a gaze that no longer belonged to an eighteen-year-old girl. I sat up, my resolve absolute, ignoring the throb of pain in my head. "Looking for someone?" I asked, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Isabelle spun around, her face twisting in shock. Her companions took an instinctive step back, their eyes widening. "You... you're awake? How are you even sitting up?" I stood up, swaying slightly, and offered them a slow, predatory smile that didn't reach my eyes. "I'm awake. And I think it's time you told me exactly what you meant by 'permanently.' Because if you’re planning on clearing space, you’re going to find that I’m much harder to move than you think." Isabelle sneered, recovering her composure. "You're delusional, Nova. You're a scholarship student with no pack, no name, and clearly, no brain. Do you have any idea what happens to people who cross us?" "I know exactly what happens," I said, stepping closer until I was inches from her face. I could see the confusion flickering in her eyes. "But I think you’re about to find out what happens when you cross someone who has nothing left to lose.".