A Wolf Among Wolves
1528 Words
Back at BloodFall Pack…
The heavy doors of the study room burst open.
Beta Devon strode in briskly, his expression tight with urgency. Gamma Phil was already present, standing near the long table while Draven sat behind it, thumbing through a stack of scrolls filled with reports.
Devon bowed deeply.
“Alpha.”
Draven merely inclined his head in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving the parchment in his hands.
Devon straightened. “Your admission letter to Ashbourne Academy has been approved. All details have been finalized, and arrangements have been made as instructed.”
Draven hummed softly his approval without words—still reading.
Then Devon added, “There’s also a letter from Alpha Kadel of Crestmoon Pack.” That did it.
Draven slowly lifted his head.
His dark eyes locked onto the sealed letter resting in Devon’s palm. A faint smirk curved his lips as he reached out, took it, and deliberately broke the seal in slowmotion. He read in silence, his expression unreadable at first… then the smirk widened.
He folded the letter neatly and leaned back, drumming his fingers against the armrest—slow, and deliberate.
“Saxon’s reports were accurate,” he said calmly. “Kadel has come crawling.”
He glanced at Phil. “Tell me, Phil —what do you think I should demand in return for my protection?”
Phil hesitated briefly, choosing his words carefully.
“Crestmoon is a fairly large pack,” he began. “But their harvests have been poor for three consecutive years. This year was the worst. Carlo’s demands were impossible—that’s why Kadel failed to meet them.”
Draven listened without interruption.
Phil continued, “There is little worth taking. His son, Kaden, is weak and useless. However…” He paused. “…his daughter, Philipa, may be a reasonable price.”
Draven’s brows lifted slightly—an elegant, dangerous motion.
“A woman?” he asked mildly, then scoffed. “I don’t need one. And I certainly don’t want a mate.”
Devon dared to object.“With respect, Alpha… a mate delivered to you may not be such a terrible thing. You’ve been of age for years. The Moon Goddess has denied you one—perhaps this is fate’s way of compensating.”
Draven’s gaze snapped to him. Cold. Sharp. And Lethal.
Devon instantly lowered his eyes.
“I said I don’t want a mate,” Draven replied flatly. “That subject is closed.”
Silence thickened the room.
Then Draven leaned forward.
“Send a letter back to Alpha Kadel,” he ordered. “Tell him I’ll deal with Carlo personally. In return, I want one-third of Crestmoon’s land and a full year’s tribute—forty thousand harvest crops.”
Devon’s throat bobbed. Those terms were brutal and Impossible.
He knew it... And Draven knew that he knew it.
Still, Devon bowed. “As you command, Alpha.”
He turned to leave— “Devon.”
Draven’s voice stopped him mid-step.
“Yes, Alpha?”
“Prepare my belongings,” Draven said calmly. “I leave for the academy immediately. Any further correspondence from Kadel is to be delivered to me there.”
Devon nodded once more. “Understood.” He exited swiftly.
Draven rose from his seat and walked out of the study room, his boots echoing faintly against the stone floor. A soft, knowing smile played on his lips.
Crestmoon was desperate. Carlo was careless. And Ashbourne Academy…was about to become very interesting.
---
When he left the study room with Gamma Phil walking behind him, Draven went straight to his chambers. Everything he needed had already been arranged—clothes, documents, seals, and the carefully forged identity he would use within the academy walls.
He was pleased.
But more than that, the thought of being surrounded by young Alpha wolves, who are proud, arrogant, untested—and tearing apart whatever dark secrets Ashbourne Academy was hiding stirred something dangerous in him. Excitement flickered in his eyes.
Less than thirty minutes later, he was already at the border of BloodFall Pack.
Gamma Phil, Beta Devon, and a few trusted officers stood with him, their expressions tense as they reluctantly bade him farewell. Warnings were repeated and pleas were ignored.
Draven insisted on going without a carriage despite their objections.
“I don’t intend to announce myself,” he said calmly.
Ten minutes later, he stood before the massive iron gates of Ashbourne Academy, winter snow blanketing the ground beneath his feet. The cold didn’t bother him in the slightest.
The guards at the first gate assessed him openly, their gazes lingering longer than necessary on his striking features. After a brief inspection of his identity, he was allowed through.
The second gate was far larger—thicker, darker, reinforced with runes. The guards stationed there were stern-looking, hardened men with unfriendly eyes.
One of them scoffed loudly as Draven approached.
“Pretty face,” the guard muttered mockingly. “You sure you’re not lost, boy?”
Draven stopped..He lifted his gaze slowly.
Just a look. The guard’s words died in his throat. His face drained of color as his wolf recoiled violently inside him, shrinking back in terror. He swallowed hard, unable to speak another word.
At that moment, a sudden commotion erupted.
The doors of the main hall burst open, and groups of students scrambled out in panic. Some fell over one another in their desperation to escape. Others stumbled forward, faces pale, eyes wide with terror, as though they had just come face-to-face with a furious beast.
Draven’s brows furrowed slightly.
Curious, he intercepted one of the fleeing students who had fallen hard onto the snowy ground.
“Hey... What’s wrong?” Draven asked calmly.
The student trembled violently, pointing back toward the hall with shaking fingers.
“T-there are monsters in there,” he stammered. “Furious students… with... with... deadly auras… it’s a death trap. Don’t go in there if you want to live!”
With that, the student scrambled away through the first gate without looking back.
Draven smirked. His curiosity was fully aroused.
One of the guards noticed that smile and froze.
That’s the smile of a dangerous wolf, he thought uneasily..His eyes dropped to the identity card in his hand.
Draven Caesar?. He must be from one of the prominent bloodlines, the guard concluded nervously.
Draven retrieved his card as he was instructed to proceed to the hall, where a staff member would escort him to his dormitory. He thanked them politely and walked away, while the guards immediately launched into hushed discussions about him.
The closer Draven got to the hall, the stronger the clashing auras became.
He grinned. “This is getting far more interesting than I assumed,” he murmured as he stepped inside.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the oppressive aura inside the hall died instantly.
Then— A far stronger, offensive aura erupted outward. The noise vanished.
Conversations died mid-sentence. Every head turned toward him. Faces went pale. Some students appeared shocked, others curious but trying desperately to hide it.
Instinctively, they backed away.
Draven frowned. “Is this it?” he thought coldly. “Just some losers? Then why were those students running?”
He didn’t notice someone approaching from the opposite direction... and they collided.
Draven straightened—and found himself staring into a pair of sharp green eyes blazing with irritation.
The surrounding students gathered closer, though none dared speak. Everyone knew who this was.
Darkson Lawlessness. Just as his name, he was a notorious bully and as well as the most powerful Alpha student in the academy.
Darkson frowned deeply as he met Draven’s storm-grey gaze—and then his frown deepened further.
This was the first student who had ever looked him directly in the eyes without flinching.
And he hated it. “You’d better watch where you’re going, newbie, i can't guarantee leaving your pretty face flawless next time ” Darkson warned, some students laughed.
Draven answered him with nothing but a slow, devilish grin.
Darkson’s face drained of color.
His wolf whimpered, nearly fleeing outright. Sweat broke across his forehead as fear clawed at his chest.
Who the hell is this? he thought in panic.
Draven stepped aside to leave.
But the laughter turned into murmurs from the watching students... it made Darkson boils with rage.
Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Draven’s clothing, yanking him back.
It was a mistake.
Draven turned sharply, his eyes darkening to something cold and lethal.
“Don’t you dare,” he said quietly. “Slave. Get down on your knees.”
An overwhelming Alpha command exploded outward.
Darkson crashed to his knees instantly. The rest of the students collapsed as well, crawling helplessly on the floor beneath the crushing pressure.
Draven stepped closer.“What is your name?” he asked.
“T-Darkson,” he choked out.
“I don’t want to see the likes of you in my sight again,” Draven said calmly. “You may go.” The pressure vanished.
Draven walked away without looking back as groans filled the hall, while Darkson scrambled, up... his face red from humiliation.
- Writer
