The tables covered in books and laptops were harshly shadowed by the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead in the library. Lucius's final words, "Time's up, Elara," echoed in my ears like a death knell, and my heart was still pounding from his ambush. I’d barely escaped, slipping through a side exit with Mia’s confused protests trailing behind me. Now, hours later, I sat in the same library, my mythology textbook open to a page on werewolf lore I knew was half-wrong. My hands trembled as I adjusted my glasses, trying to focus on the words instead of the memory of amber eyes in the dark.

I wasn’t here to study. I was here because Professor Hargrove had cornered me this morning, his pinched face all business as he’d handed me my latest punishment: tutoring duty. “Aiden Blackwood’s failing my class,” he’d said, thrusting a schedule at me. “You’re the best in mythology, Elara. Fix him, or I’ll reconsider your scholarship.”

The threat had landed like a punch. My scholarship was my lifeline, the only thing keeping me at Eldridge University and away from Lucius’s pack. So here I was, waiting for the basketball star who probably didn’t even know my name.

The library door swung open, and that smoky, bonfire scent hit me again, sharp and intoxicating. My head snapped up as Aiden Blackwood strode in, his gym bag slung over one shoulder, his navy hoodie stretched tight across his broad chest. The room seemed to shift, students glancing his way, some whispering, others pretending not to stare. He moved with the easy confidence of someone who owned every space he entered, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he scanned the room. For a moment, I thought he’d walk past me—same as always—but then his gaze locked onto mine, and my stomach flipped.

“You Elara?” His voice was low, almost bored, as he dropped into the chair across from me. Up close, he was even more overwhelming: sharp jawline, a faint scar above his left eyebrow, and those green eyes that seemed to burn through me. That scent—fire and something ancient—made my wolf stir, a restless itch under my skin.

“Yeah,” I managed, pushing my glasses up. “You’re late.”

He smirked, leaning back like he was settling in for a nap. “Practice ran over. Coach is riding us for the championship. So, what’s the deal? You gonna make me a mythology expert or what?”

I bit back a sarcastic retort. Aiden Blackwood, campus god, needed me to save his GPA. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but neither was the danger. Lucius’s text from last night still haunted my phone, and I could feel his presence lurking somewhere beyond the campus’s ivy-covered walls. Tutoring Aiden was a distraction I couldn’t afford, but I had no choice.

“Let’s start with the basics,” I said, flipping open my notebook. “Hargrove’s test is on creation myths. Titans, Olympians, that stuff. You read the assigned chapters?”

Aiden raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening.

“You think I’ve got time for that between drills, practice and parties?”

Great. A slacker jock with a side of arrogance. I sighed, shoving a handout toward him. “Then let’s make this quick. Titans were the first gods, born from Chaos. They ruled until the Olympians overthrew them. Key names: Cronus, Rhea, Zeus. Got it?”

He glanced at the handout, then back at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re kinda bossy for a nerd.”

“And you’re kinda failing for a star athlete,” I shot back, surprising myself. His laugh was low, almost genuine, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I cleared my throat, focusing on the notes. “Cronus ate his kids to avoid being overthrown. Zeus survived, led the rebellion. Basic power struggle. Sound familiar?”

His expression flickered—something dark, almost guarded—before he shrugged. “Sounds like family drama. Not my thing.”

I wanted to press, to ask why his scent screamed, “not human,” but I kept my mouth shut. My own secrets were heavy enough. Instead, I walked him through the myths, keeping it simple, though my mind kept drifting to Lucius. Why was he so obsessed with me now, after years of exile? And why did Aiden’s presence make my wolf, dormant for so long, claw at the edges of my control?

We were halfway through a rundown of Prometheus when my phone buzzed on the table. I froze, the vibration like a gunshot in the quiet library. Aiden’s eyes flicked to it, then back to me, curious. “You gonna get that?”

“No,” I said too quickly, flipping it facedown. Lucius again, probably. Or worse. I forced a smile. “Let’s keep going. Prometheus stole fire for humans, got chained to a rock for it. Punishment for defying the gods.”

Aiden leaned forward, his voice dropping. “Sounds like he had guts. You ever defy anyone, Elara?”

The question caught me off guard, his gaze pinning me like a spotlight. Did he know something? No, impossible. He was just a jock, not a mind reader. But that scent, that flicker in his eyes—it was like he was testing me. My wolf growled softly, a sound only I could hear, and I gripped my pen tighter to steady myself.

“Sometimes,” I said carefully. “When it’s worth it.”

He held my gaze a moment longer, then leaned back, smirking again. “Good to know.”

The session dragged on, Aiden half-paying attention, me fighting to keep my focus. Every time he shifted, that smoky scent hit me, stirring something dangerous—a pull I couldn’t name, like my wolf recognized him. By the time we wrapped up, my nerves were frayed, and not just from Lucius’s threats. Aiden was trouble, the kind I didn’t need but couldn’t ignore.

As he stood to leave, slinging his bag over his shoulder, my phone buzzed again. I grabbed it, unable to stop myself. The screen lit up with a new text: I’m watching you, omega. You and the dragon. My blood ran cold. Dragon? How could Lucius know about Aiden? I hadn’t even processed what I’d felt, that impossible scent.

My eyes darted to Aiden, who was halfway to the door, oblivious. But before I could call out, a shadow moved outside the library’s glass walls—tall, silver-haired, with amber eyes glinting in the dark. Lucius.

He raised a hand, a mocking wave, and my vision blurred, my nails sharpening against my will. My wolf was waking, and it wasn’t just scared—it was angry.