Chapter 11
903 Words
The impact was sudden and jarring. Before Bella’s newfound wolf reflexes could fully engage, the heavy ball—dense and traveling with unnatural shifter speed—connected with the side of her temple. The world tilted, a flash of white light blinding her as she hit the manicured grass.
She groaned, her head throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her long hair was a tangled mess across her face, blades of grass sticking to her skin. For a moment, she just lay there, the iron-rich scent of the academy’s soil filling her nostrils, mixing with the fading, familiar scent of cedar and rain that still clung to her clothes from the night before.
”Welcome to Lycaon Academy, Freshie,” a voice sneered from above.
Bella squinted, brushing her hair back to see a group of boys standing a few feet away. They looked like they had stepped out of an Abercrombie catalog but with the eyes of hungry wolves. The one in the center, a tall guy with dark curls and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, was wearing a letterman jacket and a smirk that screamed entitlement.
”Oh my gosh, are you okay?” A girl suddenly rushed into Bella’s line of sight, kneeling beside her. She looked up at the boys with a fierce glare. ”Not cool, Ethan! You could have cracked her skull.”
Ethan, the boy with the smirk, just rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. ”Relax, Chloe. If she’s a wolf, she’ll heal. If she’s not... well, maybe she shouldn’t be here.” He gave Bella one last lingering look—half mocking, half intrigued—before he and his crew sauntered off toward the gym, their laughter trailing behind them.
The girl helped Bella to her feet, brushing the dirt off Bella’s shoulders. ”This is already feeling like a bad idea,” Bella muttered under her breath, her head spinning.
”What did you say?” the girl asked, tilted her head.
Bella shook her head quickly, trying to clear the cobwebs. ”Nothing. Just... rough start.”
”Don’t mind Ethan. He’s the Alpha of the junior class and he thinks he owns the quad,” the girl explained, offering a warm smile. ”I’m Sophie. I’m your orientation guide. You’re Bella, right? From the Red Moon Pack?”
”Yeah, I am,” Bella said, forced a small smile.
As they started walking toward the dormitories, Bella felt the weight of a hundred gazes. It wasn't just curiosity; it was the way their nostrils flared as she passed. She could see them whispering, their eyes darting to her neck and then to each other. They could smell it—the heavy, dark, unmistakable scent of a High Alpha’s claim. It marked her as something dangerous, something that belonged to a king, even if she looked like a lost student.
Sophie was a chatterbox. As they navigated the winding stone paths, she launched into a detailed history of the college, talking about the Great Divide and the ancient laws of the Lycaon Elders. But Bella wasn't listening. Her mind was a chaotic mess. She kept seeing Ethan’s smirk. It was arrogant and cruel, but there was a spark of something familiar in it—that same dark, predatory energy she had spent her life around. Eww, stop it, she scolded herself. You have enough monsters in your life.
They reached a heavy oak door on the third floor of the West Wing. Sophie pushed it open to reveal a surprisingly spacious room with three beds. A girl with fiery red hair was sprawled out on one of them, flipping through a magazine.
”I see you brought our new roomie,” the redhead said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, her eyes scanning Bella with a blunt, unabashed intensity.
”Yeah, she’s Bella. Bella, this is Molly,” Sophie introduced, looking a bit nervous.
”Hi,” Bella said, trying to sound polite despite the headache.
Molly walked in a slow circle around Bella, like she was inspecting a new piece of furniture. She stopped directly in front of her, her nose twitching. ”She looks better than I imagined,” Molly uttered, her voice laced with a strange edge. ”A bit small, though. I expected the Alpha’s 'special project' to be a bit more... imposing.”
”Excuse me?” Bella snapped, her inner wolf bristling at the tone.
Molly didn't answer. She just walked past them, grabbing a leather jacket from the closet. ”There’s a party tonight at the Old Mill. I hope y’all girls are coming. It’s the traditional welcome for the new blood.” She gave a vague wave over her shoulder as she walked out the door. ”Don't be late. The seniors like to see who’s worth keeping.”
”We’ll go,” Sophie said excitedly, turning to Bella. ”It’s a welcome party! It’s the best way to get people to stop staring at you and start talking to you.”
Bella gave a faint, weary smile. She knew the staring wouldn't stop. She could still feel the phantom weight of Collins’ hands on her waist, and she knew that if she went to a party, she’d be walking into a den of wolves who could smell the "abomination" on her skin.
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