ARYA’S POV

I woke up choking on a stench so bad it felt like a punch to the face. My eyes snapped open, and I gagged, rolling off the bed in the common room at Alpha Academy. The air was polluted with the smell of unwashed feet, and something rancid—like spoiled meat left out too long.

I grunted, pulling the scratchy blanket over my nose, but it didn’t help. The room was dark, just a flicker of torchlight from the hall, and all around me, guys snored like bears. Then it came—a loud fart, ripping through the quiet like a horn. I whipped my head around. The skinny kid next to me, all tangled hair and bony elbows, smirked in his sleep, letting out a little chuckle.

Gross. I cursed him in my head and stumbled to my feet, my chest tight under Mara’s binding.

I couldn’t stay in that stink. My skin itched, my face felt gritty, and I needed to wash off the night—the woods, the fear, everything since I’d run from Dimitri. I grabbed my backpack, stepping over boots and sprawled legs, and found the bathroom door the guard had pointed out. I pushed it open and I instantly froze at the sight before me.

A wall of steam hit me, hot and damp, and there they were—six or seven guys, stark naked, splashing water from buckets, their laughter bouncing off the stone walls. My stomach flipped. I’d never seen a guy naked—not ever. Not Father, not a friend, nobody. Their skins glistened, water dripping off broad shoulders and hairy chests, and I spun around fast, my cheeks burning like I’d stuck my face in the fire.

“Hey, newbie!” one shouted—a big guy with a shaved head and a grin too wide. “What’s the rush?”

I kept my back to them, my voice low, as gruff as I could make it. “Forgot something. I’ll—uh—come back.”

“Nah, it’s cool!” another one yelled, his voice high and teasing. “We all bathe together here. Strip down, kid—don’t be a prude!”

My heart slammed so hard I thought it would bust through the binding. Strip? No chance. They’d see the cloth, the curves I’d flattened, and I’d be done—caught before I even started. I gripped my pack tighter.

“I’m fine.”

Then I took a step toward the door, praying they’d let it go.

“Come on, runt!” the big guy called, splashing water my way. “You stink worse than Gerald’s farts! Wash up!”

The others laughed, loud and rough, and I cringed, water soaking my boots. Then I saw him—out of the corner of my eye, at the far end of the bathroom. He was quiet, not laughing, just standing there under a stream of water. Short blond hair stuck to his head, gray eyes sharp even through the steam. He wasn’t huge like the others—lean, wiry, with a scar hooking under his jaw. Brooding, like he hated being there as much as I did. Our eyes met, and it was like a jolt—his stare pinned me, caught me looking. My face went hotter, my breath stuck, and I jerked away, stumbling out the door.

“Weird little freak!” the big guy shouted as I fled, their laughter chasing me back to the common room.

I slammed the door shut behind me, leaning against it, my chest heaving. That guy—those gray eyes—burned in my head, but I shook it off. I couldn’t afford to get distracted, not here, not now. I was Caleb, a boy, a warrior. Not Arya, not a fugitive. I dug through my pack, found my water bottle, and splashed my face, the cold stinging my skin. It wasn’t a bath, but it’d do. Orientation was coming, and I had to be ready—keep my head down and blend in.

The general hall was massive New intakes were everywhere, shoving and shouting, their boots scuffing the floor. I slipped in, keeping to the back, my short hair prickling my neck where it used to hang long.

Just then, the grand doors swung open and the hall went silent. I watched, surprised as the seven Elders, the guardians of the Alpha Academy walked in.

I’d imagined old men, wrinkled and bent, hobbling in with canes. But these seven strode in confidently—tall, broad, with sharp jaws and silver-streaked hair.

They were handsome in a regal way, their black robes swaying as they lined up.

The tallest one stepped forward, his dark hair glinting in the torchlight, his voice booming over the noise.

“Welcome to Alpha Academy. I’m Elder Torvald. You’re here to be forged—Alphas, Betas, warriors, rejects. Soft boys walk in. Hard men walk out. Or you die.”

A few guys snickered, flexing like it was a joke, but I didn’t laugh. His words hit me hard, sinking into my bones.

“Or you die.”

That was exactly what I was running away from. This place wasn’t safe—it was a trap, and I’d walked right in.

“Rules are clear,” Torvald went on, his eyes sweeping us. “Train hard. Fight fair. No stealing, no sneaking, no trouble. Break ‘em, and you’re dead. We don’t mess around.”

My throat went dry. Death for sneaking? I’d lied to get here—forged an ID, pretended to be Caleb. I swallowed hard, my hands clammy on my pack. I had to stay sharp, invisible.

Torvald paused, his gaze heavy on us.

“One more thing,” He grunted. “The Moonstone Pack sent word. Their Alpha’s daughter, Arya is a wanted fugitive and there’s a huge bounty on her head. Anyone here who has an idea where she is can see me privately.”

My heart stopped, then kicked so hard I thought my ribs would crack. My breath hitched, loud in my ears, and I ducked my head, staring at my boots.

Father. Had he agreed to this? Sofia’s doing, maybe, or Dimitri digging deeper. Had a little girl like me hurt his ego so much that he spread the word to the most dangerous school in the North?

I felt eyes darting around, searching, but I kept still, my face blank. No one spoke and Torvald grunted.

“Fine. Orientation’s done. Get to your groups. Move.”

The hall exploded—shouts, stomping, bodies crashing past me. I had to get out. I had to think and plan my next move.

My legs moved fast, pushing through the crowd, my pack bouncing on my shoulder. I needed a plan, a way to stay hidden. I was almost to the door, when I slammed into someone. My bottle slipped, clattering loud, and I stumbled.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Watch it,” He snapped.

I looked up, and my stomach dropped. It was him – the guy from the bathroom—blond hair, gray eyes, that scar sharp under his jaw. He stood there, taller up close, lean and solid in a rough tunic, staring down at me. My cheeks flushed, my pulse jumping, and I bent fast to grab my bottle, avoiding his gaze. But I couldn’t help it—I glanced at his chest, at the scratched-up name tag pinned there.

The name tag on his chest read Kael.