Valemount Academy
1632 Words
Ash's POV
Nan was waiting for me when I came in.
She knew, of course she did. News about Dale’s ceremony would have spread like wildfire by now.
“Is there really no place for me in this world?” I asked, my voice breaking, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“Child, they don’t deserve your tears,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “You don’t need their acceptance. You can create your own space.”
They didn’t deserve my tears, but I cried anyway.
For myself, for being stupid enough to believe I could have a normal life.
For my father. My mother. My pack.
If they weren’t dead, I wouldn’t have to live like this. If they weren’t falsely accused, I wouldn’t have to watch my best friend…
“I’ll go,” I said, choking on my words. “To Valemount.”
“Very well, child,” Nan replied quietly.
The decision felt heavy the moment the words left my mouth.
Valemount.
The place Nan had mentioned for years but I always pretended not to hear, a place filled with future Alphas, heirs, wolves bred for power and dominance.
A place where secrets went to die.
That night, I packed in silence. Nan watched me from the doorway, saying nothing, letting me grieve in my own way. Every shirt I folded felt like I was burying another piece of the life I wanted.
I didn’t sleep.
I just lay there, staring into the dark, thinking about Jasmine’s voice. Dale’s eyes. The way everything I thought was safe shattered in one day.
My heart was gone.
Morning came gray and cold.
Nan handed me a note of information I need.
“For protection,” she said. “And restraint. Remember who you are. And who you must never become.”
“The son of the one who killed your father is in there. Of Royal bloodline, heard that he's gone to war even at a very young age. You must kill him. Or you'll get caught.”
I nodded and turned to leave.
The journey felt hollow, I kept drifting away, thinking of Dale and Jasmine and even if I wanted to hate her…there was this broken look in her eyes.
No. No excuses. She wouldn't do that to a friend. Not after I told her the truth.
It was over two hours when we finally reached Valemount Academy. Just one look at it and I knew these walls had some kind of sacred secrets within it. Not to mention the gargoyles handing on each wing of the school building.
I unpacked at the clearing station and was directed to the headmaster's office.
She looked at me through stained glasses after I'd entered. She mentioned. A couple of things and then I blacked out while she was saying something about me being Rogue and different and stuff.
But then I was assigned to my class. She walked me to the hall and once we entered, the students who had been talking in loud voices, quieted down.
“Now students, you have a new classmate joining today.” She paused and looked at me. “Go on. Introduce yourself.”
I freaking hated this.
“I'm Ash Rivers.” I said in a low voice.
“What pack?” someone asked.
Before I could, the headmaster answered. “He's Rogue.”
Thanks a bunch!
Whispers erupted through the classroom as I was directed to my seat. It didn't take long to know that I wasn't wanted.
They made sure I knew I wasn’t wanted.
Taking them all at once shouldn't have been a problem…except I hadn't wolfed out yet and I was practically wolfless.
In combat class, I was paired with a wolf twice my size. He smiled like he already knew how it would end.
“Try not to cry,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
The first hit knocked the air out of me. The second sent me to the ground. Laughter echoed around us.
“Get up,” the instructor barked.
So I did.
Pain burned through my ribs, but something darker burned beneath it. Anger. Grief. That silver pulse I always kept buried.
I struck back.
Hard.
Too hard.
The boy went down, blood on his lip, eyes wide with shock.
Everyone was stunned to silence.
The instructor’s gaze sharpened. “Control yourself,” he warned.
But then he did something shocking. He walked out of the sparring grounds after one long look at the other guys.
I smelled trouble.
I felt it before anything happened.
Silence stretched too long, the kind that presses against your ears until it hurts. When I looked up, I realized no one was laughing anymore.
They were watching me.
Slowly, one by one, they started to move. Not toward the exit. Toward me.
Five of them…maybe six.
Big. Broad. Pack-marked. Their eyes weren’t curious now. They were sharp. Angry. Like I had broken some unspoken rule just by breathing in their space.
“Well,” one of them said, rolling his neck. “Looks like the rogue forgot his place.”
I backed up instinctively, my heel hitting the edge of the mat.
“I’m done,” I said. “Class is over.”
Another laugh erupted, low and mean.
“No,” someone else replied. “You embarrassed one of ours.”
I swallowed.
This was bad.
Really bad.
The first punch came from the side. I didn’t see it. I only felt the crack of pain across my jaw as my head snapped sideways. I stumbled, barely catching myself before the second hit landed in my ribs.
Air left my lungs in a sharp gasp and I dropped to my knee.
Don’t bleed.
That was the only thought in my head.
Don’t bleed.
Someone grabbed my collar and yanked me up. Another fist drove into my stomach. I tasted metal.
I couldn't afford giving myself away on just my first day.
If they see my blood…
In a school where sparring is a master class, how exactly can I not bleed?
I twisted free and swung blindly, connecting with something solid. A grunt escaped my victim.
Then hands were everywhere. They shoved me down hard, my back slamming into the mat.
A boot pressed into my chest. Not the girl area!
I freaking swear I could finish them off if they'll just come one after the other.
“Stay down,” he snarled.
I kicked out, catching his knee. He cursed, stumbled, but another wolf replaced him instantly.
They weren’t sparring anymore.
This wasn’t training.
This was punishment.
Blows rained down. Arms. Legs. Body. Anywhere they could reach. I curled in on myself, taking it, forcing myself not to cry out. Every hit sent sparks of pain through me, but worse than that was the pressure building inside my veins.
That silver pulse.
It wanted out.
My vision blurred. I bit down hard on my lip, so hard I tasted blood. I forced myself to swallow it back, even as warmth spread across my mouth.
No.
If they see it… if anyone sees it…
A sharp crack echoed as something hit my shoulder. I screamed before I could stop myself. Hands grabbed my arms, wrenching them behind me.
“Look at him,” one of them sneered. “Thought you were special, huh?”
My heart was pounding too fast now. Too loud. I was sure they could hear it. I was sure the silver was screaming inside me, clawing at my skin.
I thought it was going to be over until a scream tore through.
“Stop!”
The voice cut through the chaos.
Everything froze.
I looked up through swollen eyes and saw him standing at the edge of the mat.
A lanky-looking boy, fit but with slimmer muscles. He was the prettiest boy I have ever seen.
I mean pretty. In my state, how did I even notice that?
His face was pale, fists clenched at his sides.
“That’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. “You keep this up and you’ll kill him. You want that kind of heat?”
One of the boys laughed, but it came out shaky. “Mind your business, Trevor.”
Trevor stepped forward, eyes hard on the leader. “Back off. All of you. Right now. You think I’m alone here? My crew’s right outside, and half this room owes me favors. You touch him again, I’ll make sure they all know what you did—and who you really are when the lights come on.”
A beat of silence. The leader’s smirk faltered; he glanced at his friends like he was checking if anyone was dumb enough to push it. One shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “He’s bluffing…”
But no one moved forward. The air hung thick.
Then the leader exhaled hard, wiping his mouth. “Whatever. He’s not worth getting jumped over. Let’s go.”
They grumbled a few weak insults as they backed away, shoulders tense, saving face but clearly rattled. The fight’s fire had gone out.
I lay there, shaking, staring at the ceiling. The world felt too bright and at the same time too bright. I could feel blood on my face, warm against my skin.
But not silver. My silver veins remained unharmed.
Thank the goddess.
Trevor rushed to my side, dropping to his knees. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t move. You’re hurt.”
I pushed myself up with a groan, ignoring the way my body screamed in protest.
“Don’t,” he said, reaching for me. “Let me help.”
I slapped his hand away.
Harder than I meant to.
“Don’t touch me.”
He flinched, shock flickering across his face.
- Writer
