"That rat has been spreading filthy rumors, humiliating her, and even vandalized our door with disgusting slurs," Annie cut in, ticking the grievances off on her fingers with sharp, mechanical precision. "A brand-new door, by the way. And then, magically, our room went up in flames right after. Coincidence? I don’t think so."
The Principal released a slow, heavy breath, his fingers working into his temples to massage away an impending headache.
"You should have brought this to your dorm advisers, Miss Laurent, rather than resorting to barbaric violence."
"Please, the advisers don’t give a damn about us," Annie scoffed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "What would happen if I told them someone was slandering my best friend and making her life a living hell? They’d gather us into a nice little fucking peace circle and wag a finger like, ’Now, now, girls, play nice.’ That only emboldens predators. It just teaches them to act in the shadows, where they can be twice as cruel."
"I never realized such anarchy flourished among you delicate little birds," the Principal purred, his low voice thick with a dark, commanding purr. He leaned across the wide expanse of polished mahogany, closing the distance between them until Annie reflexively snapped her spine straight, her chin tilting up in defensive defiance. "And your vocabulary, Miss Laurent... is remarkably crude."
"You don’t know the half of it," she whispered, her gaze locked with his, refusing to yield an inch of ground to his suffocating Alpha pressure.
"Please, sir... don’t punish Annie," I blurted out, frantically breaking the charged, predatory tension crackling between them. "If anyone has to take the blame, punish me instead. Give me campus duty, or..." I trailed off, my fingers twisting tightly in my lap. I was terrified of what this powerful wolf might do to her, sickened by the thought that she was taking the fall for my ruined life.
The Principal leaned back, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly as his intense posture eased. "Neither of you will be punished. The academy will handle the girl’s medical bills internally."
His dark eyes snapped back to Annie, who immediately puffed out her chest and raised her chin even higher, affecting an air of total indifference.
"However," his voice dropped into an ironclad, absolute command—the tone of a high-ranking wolf laying down the law of his pack, "I will not tolerate another display of raw violence on this campus. If another student crosses the line—if anyone dares attempt to compromise the honor or safety of a breeder under my roof—you will come to me. Personally. Is that clear?"
Annie glared at him from beneath her pale lashes, a suppressed growl vibrating faintly in her throat. "Crystal. Am I dismissed?"
A slow, wolfish smirk curled the corner of the Principal’s lips. He sank back into his heavy leather throne, his predatory gaze devouring her face.
"You will remain, Miss Laurent. Jane, you are free to go."
"No! Absolutely not!" I gasped, my hands clutching the arms of my chair so hard my knuckles turned white. "I’m staying with Annie! Whatever you have to say, you can say to both of us! We’re in this together, and—"
"Go home, Jane," Annie interrupted softly. She turned to me, her blue eyes filled with an iron resolve that froze the words in my throat. "I’ll text you the second I step out of here."
She offered me a quick, reassuring wink, but the knot of dread in my gut only tightened.
On stiff, unsteady legs, I rose and slipped out of the Principal’s office, pulling the heavy double doors shut behind me. Standing in the quiet, echoing corridor, I noticed something strange: the shadow guards Magnus usually attached to my hip were nowhere to be seen.
Go home?
Whose home was I even supposed to go to? Back to the man who had held me all night, who had marked my skin, yet kept his dark, tragic past completely buried from me?
With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone. I didn’t search for Magnus. I typed in her name: Karina Nyland.
The screen instantly flooded with hundreds of search results and news archives.
It was all there. She had died a little over a year ago in a horrific accident. The articles detailed their fairy-tale romance—how Magnus Rainn and Karina Nyland had been inseparable childhood sweethearts, and how both powerful packs had thrown lavish celebrations during their high school graduation when their fated mate bonds had finally flared to life.
No photos of their actual bond marks existed—the bloodlines had kept those sacred details fiercely guarded—but the entire werewolf aristocracy had celebrated the glorious union of their two houses.
Standing alone in the cold hallway, staring at the glowing screen, my heart felt like it was crumbling into dust.
According to the article, they had been childhood sweethearts, attending the same elite private academy and commuting together every day. There were countless society-page photographs of them at gala events.
Karina had been breathtaking—a striking brunette with a voluptuous figure, a tiny waist, and soft, curving hips. Dressed in designer gowns and soaring heels, she was the epitome of high fashion and effortless grace. Airy, yet refined.
And standing next to Magnus, she had looked utterly divine.
They were the picture-perfect couple. Ideal in every way. The tender, possessive restraint in how he held her narrow waist, pressing her flush against his side, was painfully evident in every single frame.
Looking at those pictures, my heart fractured into a thousand jagged pieces.
How could this be? How was any of this possible?
The suffocating truth hit me all at once: this was why he had never introduced me to anyone. Compared to his late fated mate, I looked plain, dull, and invisible.
Who was she, and who was I?
She was the heiress of a legendary, high-born lineage. I was an unawakened Omega breeder from a nobody family—mere garbage, just as Lina had spat in my face.
An unbearable bitterness flooded my throat, an iron grip tightening around my chest until I could barely draw breath. My instincts screamed at me to run—to flee immediately before the crushing weight of it all destroyed me completely.
Turning on my heel, I bolted down the back hallway toward the emergency exit. Ignoring the bright orange warning sign declaring the fire door sealed, I ripped the paper away, shoved the rusted metal latch open with a loud screech, and burst into the crisp outside air.
Tears burned my eyes, blurring the campus into smudged streaks of color. I headed for the only sanctuary I knew—a place where I could hide away without being judged.
As I hurried past the outdoor athletic fields, I vaguely noticed a few males running laps and doing push-ups. I pressed forward, keeping my head ducked low to avoid their sightlines.
But as I rounded the narrow brick alleyway between two academic halls, I slammed straight into a broad chest.
I stumbled back, locking eyes with Dean Nyland.
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