Chapter 2 — The College of Bloodlines
The first time Mira saw the Lycanridge gates, she almost turned around.
Not because of fear. Not because of nerves. But because she could still feel her father's voice inside her head, like a rot she couldn't scrape off.
"You'll never belong. They'll know what you are."
But for the first time in her life, she ignored him.
The gates were black iron twisted into the shapes of howling wolves, ancient runes etched in blood-red stone lining the archway. Guard towers loomed overhead, and the scent of hundreds of supernatural bloodlines pulsed through the air — Alpha heirs, future betas, witches, rare hybrids.
And her.
Mira Thornveil. The cursed girl in borrowed boots and a hand-me-down jacket that barely reached her wrists.
She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and stepped through the gate. No one looked at her — not yet. But they would. She could already feel eyes beginning to trail her scent.
Her powers always made people uneasy. She didn't know what they were exactly. Only that when she was angry or scared, strange things happened — lights blew out. Blood turned black. Pain got swallowed by rage.
And sometimes… people got hurt.
⸻
"Room 312. Top floor of Blackstone Dorms," the registrar had said, not meeting her eyes.
The dorm building towered above her now — dark ivy crawling across its brick face, chimneys like horns piercing the gray sky. Inside, voices bounced through the halls: laughter, flirting, snarling. A war of hormones and hierarchy.
Mira kept her head down. Her stepsister, Liana, had already messaged that she would "make sure everyone knew what kind of freak transferred in."
Mira didn't care. Not anymore.
Her room was small, cold, and smelled faintly of wolf musk and sage. But it had a bed. A real one. And a desk. A window. No chains.
Freedom, for now.
She unpacked slowly, breathing in the silence — until the door swung open.
Her roommate stood in the doorway with arms crossed and a nose ring gleaming under the flickering light.
"Tell me you're not another stuck-up Luna hopeful," the girl said bluntly.
Mira blinked. "I'm not even sure why I'm here yet."
The girl grinned. "Good answer. I'm Keira. Warlock blood. Lesbian. Potions major. You?"
"Mira. Wolf. Biology and Combat."
Keira nodded like she approved. "You look like you've killed someone."
Mira didn't respond.
Because maybe… she had.
⸻
Across campus, training grounds thundered with grunts, snarls, and shattered bone.
Alpha Kade stood shirtless in the arena, fists bloodied, eyes glowing silver. His sparring partner — a bulky Alpha heir from the Frostfangs — lay twitching in the dust.
The other students watched him from the shadows, too scared to speak.
The instructors didn't stop him. No one ever did.
He was the youngest Alpha in a hundred years. He ruled his pack through fear, ruthlessness, and strength. But lately, he was… distracted.
Ever since he caught that scent in the wind.
It haunted him. Warm, wild… wrong.
His wolf stirred constantly now, unsettled and angry.
"Is something coming, Kade?" his beta asked quietly from the edge of the ring.
Kade didn't answer. He just stared into the trees beyond the college, where the moonlight bled through.
"Something's already here."