My roommate is human, thank God.

I can tell the moment I walk into the room. No supernatural scent, no predatory awareness. Just a regular guy who can't smell the deception on me or sense that something's wrong.

"You must be Freddie," he says, looking up from his textbook. He's sprawled across his bed, long arms and legs everywhere, strawberry blond hair falling into his eyes. "I'm Tyler. Tyler Chen."

"Nice to meet you." I drop my gear by what must be my bed. Two beds, two desks, two dressers. A window overlooking the quad. Just a regular dorm room where I have to live as someone I'm not.

"So what brings you to Crescent Moon mid-semester?" Tyler asks, closing his book. Some massive biochemistry text. "Most people start in the fall."

I've rehearsed this story a hundred times. "Family moved for my dad's job. I had to finish the semester at my old school first."

The lies come out easily now.

"That sucks. What sport?"

"Hockey." I gesture to my gear bag. "Hopefully."

Tyler grins. "Dude, you're either really brave or really stupid. The hockey team here is basically werewolf royalty. Half the school worships them, the other half is terrified of them."

My stomach drops. "Terrified?"

"Well, not literally. Mostly." He laughs at my expression. "Look, they're not bad guys, but they're all alphas or future alphas from major packs. They've got this whole pack hierarchy thing going on that us humans aren't really part of. Plus, they're insanely good. Like, scary good."

"You know much about the team?" I try to keep my voice casual as I start unpacking.

"More than I should, probably. My girlfriend Emma is obsessed with hockey. She drags me to all the games." Tyler sits up, suddenly more animated. "There are three co-captains. Logan Pierce is supposedly being scouted by professional teams already. Then there's Sebastian Knox—he's the enforcer type, total bad boy vibe. And Zane Cross, who's apparently some kind of hockey prodigy. They're like the holy trinity of the team."

Three names. Three alphas.

My hands freeze on my half-unpacked clothes. Three alphas who Tyler describes like they're the most important people on campus. Three alphas I'll have to convince that I belong among them.

"They all get along?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

Tyler snorts. "That's the weird part. Logan and Sebastian apparently hate each other. Like, barely civil most of the time. But they're both co-captains, so they have to work together. The tension is legendary. Emma says it makes the games even more intense to watch."

They hate each other. That's interesting. And potentially useful, if I can figure out why.

"What about the third one? Zane?"

"He's newer to the team, but word is he's incredible. Kind of the peacekeeper between the other two, I think." Tyler flops back onto his bed. "Honestly, they're probably your biggest competition for making the team. If you can impress them, you're golden. If not..."

He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to.

I continue unpacking in silence, my mind racing. Three co-captains who don't all get along. A team full of alphas from powerful families. David somewhere on campus, pretending he doesn't know me.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

"Hey," Tyler says suddenly. "Want to grab dinner? I can show you around the dining hall, introduce you to some people."

The thought of sitting in a crowded room, trying to maintain my disguise while making small talk, makes my stomach clench. But I need to start building Freddie Sterling's life here.

"Sure," I say. "That sounds great."

The dining hall is massive and loud, filled with hundreds of chattering students. Tyler guides me through the maze of tables, pointing out different groups.

"Athletes sit over there," he says, nodding toward a section where several tables have been pushed together. "But the hockey players have their own table. See them?"

I follow his gaze and my breath catches. There's Sebastian, sitting at the head of a long table, gesturing as he tells some story that has everyone laughing. Even from across the room, he commands attention.

Next to him sits a guy with dark hair and sharp features who has to be Logan. He's not laughing at Sebastian's story. Instead, he's watching the room with predatory awareness. When his eyes sweep past our direction, I quickly look away.

And at the other end of the table, there's a third boy with lighter brown hair and an easy smile. Zane, probably. He's listening to Sebastian's story but also keeping an eye on Logan, like he's ready to step in if things get tense.

"They're all really close," Tyler continues, "but you can see the dynamics if you know what to look for. Logan is the natural leader, Sebastian is the muscle, Zane's the diplomat."

As if he can sense my stare, Sebastian's head turns toward our table. Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and that same electric jolt from earlier shoots through me. He raises his eyebrows slightly before turning back to his teammates.

"Did he just look at you?" Tyler asks, impressed. "Dude, that's like being noticed by a celebrity."

"We met earlier," I mumble, focusing on my food. "He seems nice."

"Nice." Tyler laughs. "That's one word for it. Emma says he's got half the school crushing on him, but he never dates anyone seriously. Too focused on hockey and pack stuff, probably."

Pack stuff. Right. Because he's not just a hockey star—he's werewolf nobility, destined for leadership roles I can barely comprehend.

And I'm sitting here pretending to be a boy so I can play on his team.

The absurdity of it hits me. What am I doing? These aren't just talented athletes I'm trying to fool. They're alpha werewolves from powerful families. If they discover what I am, it won't just be embarrassing. It could be dangerous.

"You okay?" Tyler asks. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Just tired," I lie. "Long day."

"Fair enough. Want to head back?"

I nod gratefully, but as we stand to leave, I catch sight of another familiar figure across the room. David sits alone at a small table in the corner, a textbook open beside his dinner plate. He's pointedly not looking in my direction, but I can see the tension in his shoulders.

My chest aches. I want to go to him, to have just one person here who knows who I really am. Instead, I follow Tyler toward the exit, leaving my brother alone at his table like he's just another stranger.

Back in the dorm room, Tyler immediately buries himself in his biochemistry book. I text Mum and Lily, keeping the message brief and optimistic. Everything's fine. School's beautiful. Made a friend already.

All lies, but they don't need to worry more than they already are.

I'm about to get ready for bed when my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.

*Hey Freddie. Sebastian here. Got your number from the student directory. Want to skate tomorrow before classes? Informal practice, just a few of us. 6 AM at the rink.*

My hands shake as I stare at the message. Six AM. Tomorrow. With Sebastian Knox and probably his co-captains.

It's not a request, I realize. It's a test.

I type back: *Sounds good. Thanks for the invite.*

His response comes immediately: *Bring your A-game. The ice doesn't lie.*

I set the phone down and stare at the ceiling. In less than twelve hours, I'll be skating with some of the best young hockey players in the country. They'll be evaluating every move I make, every shot I take, looking for any sign of weakness.

And I'll be doing it all while pretending to be someone I'm not.

Tyler's breathing evens out as he falls asleep over his textbook, but I lie awake for hours. My mind races through everything that could go wrong tomorrow. What if I'm not good enough? What if they see through my disguise? What if Sebastian starts asking more questions about David?

What if this whole insane plan falls apart before it even begins?

But underneath the fear, there's something else. Excitement. Pure anticipation at the thought of being on the ice again, of playing the sport I love at the highest level I've ever attempted.

Tomorrow, I find out if Freya Sterling—disguised as Freddie—is good enough to skate with legends.

Tomorrow, everything changes.