The New Kid
1456 Words
Rowan’s POV
I had just slipped out of my hideout, a cramped alcove behind the old library stacks that no one else seemed to notice, when Alec materialized from around the corner of the hallway, that heavy, knowing grin plastered across his face.
I could swear on my life the guy had planted a bug on me somewhere. No one else could track me down this consistently.
“How do you freaking know where to find me every damn time?” I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“You weren’t at sparring today,” he said, voice bright and jovial, like missing a session was some kind of personal offense. I have no idea why I keep indulging him. Honestly, I don’t.
“I had important stuff to take care of,” I said with a sigh, already resigned to the fact he wasn’t going to drop it.
“Are you rubbing it in that you’re the leader?” he teased, falling into step beside me as we headed toward the dormitory wing. “Well, you missed something fun.”
“I doubt it,” I kept my tone flat. “I’m pretty sure we have wildly different opinions on what the word fun means.”
Alec ignored me completely, barreling on like he always did. “There’s this new kid in school… transferred in from the rogue pack. At first glance, he looks really soft…like, almost delicate, you know? Kinda pretty in a way that makes you do a double take. But dude can pack a punch. Threw one of the third-years across the mat like it was nothing.”
I didn’t respond, just kept walking, boots echoing against the stone floor.
“Your point exactly?” I finally asked when he didn’t continue.
“It’s either he got on the boys’ bad side or the instructor’s, but there was a gang beating after class,” Alec shrugged, casual as if he were talking about the weather. “Five or six of them cornered him behind the training sheds.”
That made me stop. I turned, raising a brow.
There hadn’t been that kind of reaction this year from the usual troublemakers. I was starting to think they’d finally grown some restraint…or turned into wood. I was the only one allowed to have no reaction whatsoever.
“Gang beating,” I repeated. “Was he that annoying? Did you join in?”
Alec snorted. “Me? Nah. I watched from the back. I’m not pissy enough to hit someone from behind. Plus, I think it had a lot more to do with their bruised egos than anything he actually said. Kid didn’t even talk much. Just…the overall air around him. Like he’s greater than all.”
I smirked despite myself. “So he is annoying.”
Alec grinned wider. “In the most interesting way.”
I didn’t ask for more details. I didn’t care. New transfers came and went. Rogues especially didn’t last long at the academy…too much pride, not enough pack loyalty. They either adapted or broke.
Most broke.
We parted ways at the dorms, Alec still chattering about the drama as he headed to his room. I took the long way out, cutting through the side doors and into the forest that bordered the academy grounds. Night training. Alone. The way I preferred it.
The moon was high and sharp tonight.
I moved silently between the trees, breathing in the cold air, letting the quiet settle over me like armor. This was where I came to think. To train. To keep every emotion locked down tight.
One of my main goals this year, maybe the most important, was mastering control. No flinch. No flicker in the eyes. No heartbeat spike that anyone could scent. Alphas led by strength, yes, but the best led by stillness. Unreadable. Unbreakable.
I ran the obstacle loop twice, pushing harder the second time, sweat cooling fast in the night air. Then I shifted into wolf form, letting the change burn through me, muscles reshaping, senses sharpening until the world exploded into scent and sound.
I hunted shadows for an hour, leaping, twisting, striking at nothing but air and memory. When I finally shifted back, human again, lungs burning, skin damp, I headed toward the stream to wash off the grit.
That’s when I heard it.
A soft, stifled sound, not like an animal’s. It sounded too delicate.
I froze, listening.
There, again. A sharp inhale, like someone biting back a groan.
I moved toward it, silent, curiosity pulling me despite myself. I didn’t make a habit of interfering in other people’s business. But this deep in the forest, this late, alone…it could be trouble.
I crested a small rise and stopped.
There, half hidden beneath the low branches of an ancient oak, sat a figure curled against the trunk. Hoodie pulled up, knees drawn to chest, one hand pressed tight against their side. Moonlight spilled over them in patches, catching on pale skin, dark hair falling across a sharp jawline. Pretty, I thought absently. Delicate bones, long lashes, lips pressed thin against pain.
Blood scented the air, fresh, metallic.
He was hurt.
Badly, from the way he held himself.
I stepped closer, deliberately letting a twig snap under my boot.
His head snapped up, eyes wide and startlingly light in the dark…gray? Green? Hard to tell. Fear flashed across his face, then something fiercer. He pushed himself upright, wincing, hand still clutching his ribs.
I didn’t speak. Just watched.
He watched me back, body tense, ready to bolt despite the obvious pain. There was blood on his fingers, seeping through the fabric of his hoodie.
I knew then. From his pretty features and the very obvious injuries.
The new rogue kid. The one Alec had been rambling about. The one who’d taken a beating and apparently walked away from it to lick his wounds alone.
Ash. That was the name Alec had mentioned in passing.
His eyes showed he didn't know me at first…but…wait.
What was that flash of recognition just now?
I felt something stir inside me as our eyes locked. A strange tug low in my chest. Not anything I wanted to name. My wolf shifted restlessly beneath my skin, alert in a way that unsettled me.
I crushed it down immediately. Locked it away.
My face stayed blank. Voice flat.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” I said.
His chin lifted slightly, defiant even through the pain. “Neither should you.”
A flicker of surprise ran through me. Most people didn’t talk back. Not to me.
I didn’t let it show.
“You’re bleeding,” I observed.
He glanced down at his side as if just remembering, then shrugged, a small, careful movement. “It’ll heal.”
Not a lie. Wolves healed fast. But not that fast. Not with injuries like those. Cracked ribs, maybe internal bruising.
He’d been kicked hard. Repeatedly.
I was beginning to think Alec was a fool for not interrupting. But then I’d kill men without flinching.
I should have walked away.
I didn’t.
Instead, I stepped closer, slowly, giving him space to run if he wanted.
He didn’t.
Up close, he was smaller than I expected. Lean, but not weak. There was strength in the way he held himself, even now. And those eyes, definitely gray, storm-cloud sharp. Pretty didn’t cover it. Beautiful, maybe. In a way that felt dangerous to notice.
The stirring came again. Stronger.
I shut it down harder.
“You need binding,” I said. “Or you’ll slow the healing.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
He glared at me, but there was exhaustion behind it. Pain he couldn’t quite hide.
I pulled the spare wrap from my pocket, always carried one for training, and held it out.
He stared at it. Then at me.
“Why?” he asked quietly.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because I didn’t know.
After a long moment, he took it.
Our fingers brushed.
The tug sharpened into something almost painful.
I stepped back immediately, expression still blank.
He hesitated, then lifted his hoodie just enough to wind the wrap around his torso, movements careful, practiced. He’d done this before.
I watched without comment.
When he finished, he pulled the hoodie down and met my eyes again.
“Thanks,” he said. Grudging.
I nodded once.
Then I turned and walked away, melting back into the trees before he could say anything else.
My heart beat too hard. Too fast.
I forced it steady.
By the time I reached the dorms again, my face was stone once more.
But inside, something had shifted.
And I didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
- Writer
