SIX MONTHS LATER.Six months was all it took Soraya to get accustomed to the Supernatural world.

Six months was all it took for her to learn about her lineage and the reason why Hunters existed or at least what Quinn had told her.

The hunters had special scientific knowledge on how to get rid of these werewolves, but over the years they had reduced in numbers because of course humans could not live forever, and soon only Quinn and a few other hunters were left.

Quinn had taken on solo hunting, receiving contracts for targeted werewolves, but now it was time to retire and Soraya was the one to take her place.

Six months was all it took for her to be branded as the restorer of the lost Glory of the hunters which was why she was on her way to Fenrir Academy of Werewolves and Witches, on her first mission, to bring back the head of the Alpha Prince.

Soraya had changed. She was not the clueless human who had known nothing of the world beyond theirs, she was a formidable hunter —trained by Quinn Targott, she was the last heir of the Targott Hunter family and she was going to make her mother proud.

Soraya stood before her mother, eyes sharp and jaw set. "You have come a long way, Raya, haven't you?" Quinn started, arms folded, staring at Soraya with that look of steel Raya had gotten used to.

"Yes, ma'am," Raya answered. She still found it difficult to address Quinn as Mother, even after all the months they had spent living and training together.

"Now, this is your first mission as a hunter. You are going to be at Fenrir for as long as it would take you to kill the Prince. The client who requested the Prince's head is a patient one. He knows it will not be that easy to kill a werewolf of Royal bloodline."

No questions - just do as you are told. That was her mantra, what she had been taught for the past six months. She would have asked Quinn how long was the maximum, how long would it supposedly take to just kill one werewolf but she kept quiet.

"A spear would not kill a royal werewolf. What kills them is their emotion. You get him at his weakest point and strike then and there."

"Wolves are sensitive to smell, so we are going to disguise you as a witch," Quinn continued as she reached for her pocket and brought out a bottle. "It is a potion made to mask your smell. You must make sure to take it every morning, understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do not slack off, okay?"

Soraya nodded again in affirmation. "Good. Now pack your bags, A driver is waiting for you outside."

Walking into the lion's den was no joke. The pictures of Fenrir Academy that she has seen online did not do justice to the physical form of the school Itself. It was huge, mighty, and fucking intimidating if Soraya was to be honest — like a castle right out of a fairytale book.

Soraya's phone was on the receiving end of her nervousness as she gripped it tightly while dragging her suitcase along the marbled ground, her feet skidding alongside it. The driver had dropped her off at the school gare and left her alone to find her paths inside herself. She was sure those were Quinn's orders, perhaps to test her resilience.

There were a few students in the courtyard, all oblivious to Soraya's presence. Her eyes scanned around, trying to figure out where to go next because all her registration had been done online when she heard her name. "Soraya Karter?"

Her gaze gravitated towards the one who had called her name, and she gasped at seeing him.

He was tall. Tanned. He had blonde hair that matted against his face from sweat. His golden-brown orbs seemed to hold her hazel ones for a moment before either of them realized what had happened. It was the crown Prince of Nevanda – Prince Daryl Ender.

It was like fate, fate had directed him to her in just a few minutes of her arrival.

"You are Soraya Karter?" He inquired again.

"Yes... Yes, I am," she answered.

Something did not seem right, because why was the crown prince looking at her like he knew her before and why did his voice sound so familiar? He walked closer to her and suddenly he reached for her face. She felt the sizzling heat on her skin as he silently whispered; "Mine!"

•

His eyes was like a mixture of earth and the sun - an enigmatic sight.

•

It was her alright.

Daryl could swear on his mother's grave that this so-called witch standing in front of him, whom he was assigned to lead to her dorm, was the human who had seen him shift six months back. The girl who was immune to his death touch. The reason why he was in Fenrir in the first place.

From her black curly hair to her striking hazel eyes and those puckered lips, nothing had changed about her except for her scent. Where it was a rich earthy scent before, it was now adulterated with the special scent peculiar to witches. And yet as he drew nearer to her, he could not help the tug in his heart, the heat that licked up across his skin as he regarded her wickedly beautiful face.

it was at this moment that his wolf senses decided to play tricks on him and he reached for her face, unconsciously letting out a quiet growl.

It took a minute before she snapped, dragging his gloved hands from her face and violently pushing it down. "What the actual fuck!" She yelled.

She had changed, he noticed. The innocent softness that was once in her eyes was gone and now replaced with fearlessness and a bitterness so vile, he was taken aback. What had happened to her?

"Do not ever touch me without permission. Trust me I know various ways to sever your fingers from its parent and I will not hesitate to use them," she threatened.

Daryl was amused as well as confused, what had happened to her? "Do you know me?" He questioned, narrowing his gaze on her.

She paused, slowly taking her lips in before replying to him tactically. "Am I supposed to know you?"

He scoffed at her questioning answer. She was not supposed to know him, since they had wiped out her memories of what had happened that day, but yet, the fact that she was here as a witch was the turn-off.

"Come with me, let's get you to your dorm." He finally said to her. He heard her sigh as she started to follow him, her suitcase making loud noises as it slapped against the marble floor.

The dorms were on the west wing, a single building with hundreds of rooms as it seemed. Her room was on the second floor, just right next to his. Once he had brought her there and given her the key, telling her that her roommate would be around soon, he turned around and slid into his room without a further glance.

Something was amiss with the girl – Soraya, and Daryl had every intention of finding out, also trying to block out the fact that he was dangerously attracted to her, and she might be his Fated.

•

No slip-ups. Soraya chided herself as soon as she settled down in her side of the room. She needed not to be distracted by him, the same one she was sent to kill. But how could she focus when he had a savagely handsome face like that and when his voice seemed to do unspeakable things to her womanly parts?

Soraya sighed as she lay down to nap, thankful that Quinn had allowed her to come on a Sunday, thereby giving her enough time to rest, and maybe draft out her plan of killing the prince. Although it won't be easy as Quinn had told her, the faster she got on with it, the very better for her.

She was just about to doze off when the door suddenly opened, crushing her hopes of finding rest for a while. "Is that you, Soraya?" A British accent that seemed to enunciate every pronunciation made, floated into the room.

Soraya rolled her eyes at the dumb question of the intruder. Of course who else would it be? But then when she raised her head to face the owner of the voice, she had a practiced smile plastered to her face. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hi, I am Adele. Not Adele the singer, but Adele the witch!"

The girl was rather small, even shorter in height than Soraya's five foot five. Adele had white hair that she had packed into a ponytail, with pink flowers gracing them. She grinned at Soraya again and closed the door.

"I am your roommate," she announced as if Soraya had not picked that information already.

"I hope we get along," Raya replied rather monotonously.

"Of course, we will!" She exclaimed and went over to her bed, humming and skipping along happily. Adele reminded Soraya of that carefree human that she was before now. Before Quinn Targott. She shook her head, it was no use reliving those moments because they were her past, and not who she was before.

"So, I hear you are a witch," Adele started. "I'm very sure you can cast spells and make potions right? I am too actually and I am very good at water spells. I like to call myself a water witch," she finished with a bubbly smile.

The words at the top of Soraya's lips were to tell the girl: 'good for you', but she did not, instead she returned Adele's smile and answered blankly. "That is cool."

"So as new roomies... Do you want to go to a party?"

Soraya was stunned at Adele's offer. "A party?"

"It is kind of like a welcoming party for the newbies. It happens every new session," she responded.

"And you want me to come?"

"Of course. You are a newbie, aren't you? Besides it is the only time we get to socialize as students before spell, sparring, and potion studies take up all of our time."

"And who are the organizers of the party?"

"The Fenrir Pack Alpha's children. Ethan and Elle Farrow. They are like the gods of the school, well not compared to the Alpha Prince of Nevanda but here, they rule."

Soraya nodded.

"Do you want me to help with your makeup and hair? I am very good at things like that," Adele grinned, already standing up.

"No thanks. I can do those myself."

"So that means you are coming?"

Soraya rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

It was a stupid idea that she was even considering this because Soraya was not here for aimless bonding like Quinn had made sure to grind into her head days before now. She was here on a mission, and she had not to forget that, but a little fun would not hurt, right?

If only she knew.