A Roommate
1004 Words
On their way across the academy grounds, a man hurried toward them, clutching a large notebook to his chest. He kept glancing down at the pages, then back up at the two of them, clearly searching for something.
“Jordan Kadel?” he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And Rowan Jaxon?”
“Yes, sir,” they answered at the same time.
“Good. I’m the academy guide for new students,” he said briskly. “My name is Mark Gibson, but you can just call me Mark.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Follow me. I’ll take you to your assigned hostels.”
They followed him through long stone paths lined with tall buildings. The academy was massive—far larger than Philipa had imagined. Every structure looked old, powerful, and dangerous, like it had witnessed centuries of blood, battles, and broken dreams.
Mark stopped in front of Hostel Fifteen.
“This is yours,” he said to Rowan. “Go in and take any empty bed you find.” Rowan nodded, shot Philipa a nervous look, then hurried inside.
Mark turned and motioned for Philipa to follow him again.
They walked farther—past several hostels—until they reached the very end of the academy grounds.“Hostel Thirty-Five,” Mark announced.
Philipa frowned slightly.This hostel was different.
It was larger than the others, more refined, and oddly quiet. The air around it felt heavier, sharper—almost threatening.
They stepped inside. Two muscular students were hurriedly packing their belongings, shoving clothes and items into bags with tense movements. They avoided eye contact, clearly eager to leave.
Philipa glanced at them, confused.
“This is your assigned room,” Mark said, pointing toward an empty bed near the left wall. “Choose anyone except that one.”
Before she could respond— “Well, well, well,” one of the students said with a mocking grin. He was tall and lean, his eyes sharp with amusement. “Isn’t this the newbie who stood against the chief devil himself?”
Philipa raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?” the other student scoffed loudly. “You don’t even know who the chief devil of this academy is?” He laughed cruelly. “If I were you, I wouldn’t accept this hostel,” he added. “You look too weak. I doubt you’ll survive even one night here.”
Now Philipa was fully curious. She turned to Mark. “What do they mean by that?”
Then she looked back at the two students.“And why are you packing your things?” Before anyone could answer—A calm, icy voice spoke from behind her.
“Because they are losers.”The words were soft—but deadly.“And losers are forbidden from staying here.”Philipa turned sharply.
Draven stood behind her.
The moment the two students saw him, their faces drained of color. Without saying a word, they grabbed their bags and rushed past her, almost tripping over themselves as they fled the room.
Mark cleared his throat nervously.“Well,” he said quickly, “I believe my job is done here. Be ready in five minutes—classes begin at eleven.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned and practically ran out.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Draven closed it fully, then leaned back against it. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her in silence.
The air grew thick.Tense.Uncomfortable.
Philipa swallowed hard. She turned away from him and walked to the empty bed on the right side of the room. She began unpacking her things, but she could feel his eyes on her—sharp and unblinking. It made her skin prickle.
Finally, she snapped.“Don’t you have something better to do,” she said sharply, turning to face him, “than stare rudely at someone?”He smirked.
“Oh?” he asked lazily. “Did I touch a nerve, newbie?”She clenched her jaw and turned back to her things.“You look too frail to be an Alpha,” he added casually.
That did it. “And how is that your damn business?” she snapped, spinning around.
For the first time, Draven looked surprised.
Her eyes burned with anger, wild and unyielding.
Then—to her confusion—he chuckled.
A low, amused sound.“Interesting, absolutely interesting,” he muttered.
He stepped closer. Her heart started racing again. What is he doing now? she thought.
He was unpredictable—changing moods like a storm. She didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Alright, newbie ” he said calmly. “Let’s make things clear.” He pointed to a thin blue line drawn across the floor between their beds. “Rule number one,” he said. “You never cross that line.”She looked at it, then back at him.
“Rule number two,” he continued, stepping closer, his voice dangerously calm. “I decide how things run in this hostel. You don’t touch my things. You don’t interfere with my space. And you stay out of my face unless I say otherwise.”His breath brushed her cheek.
Her skin flushed—not from fear, but irritation.She stepped back.“Good,” she said firmly. “Because I have my own rule too.”
He blinked, clearly not expecting that.
“You stay out of my face as well,” she continued. “I hate busybodies. I have no interest in running this hostel. You can keep your control, Alpha Draven.”His lips curved again.That dangerous smirk.
“You’ll learn, newbie,” he said softly. “With time… you’ll learn to live by my rules.”Then he turned and walked out, leaving the door swinging shut behind him.
Philipa exhaled slowly. Ashbourne Academy had only just begun—And already, she knew one thing for sure. Living with this roommate was going to be hell.
- Writer
