Mira's POV
Neither of them moved.
Kieran stood where he'd stepped into the moonlight shoulders set, silver eyes locked forward, body perfectly still in the way that only something very dangerous can be perfectly still. Zane hadn't shifted back. He stood on the other side of Mira, bare-shouldered, bleeding, every line of him coiled and ready.
Two predators. One piece of territory.
Mira.
The growling started low not from either of them. From somewhere deeper. From the place inside both of them where the wolf lived, where it made its own decisions. It vibrated through the air between them like a wire pulled tight.
Mira took a step back.
Then another.
She wasn't part of this. She didn't want to be. She was still bleeding from the branch cut on her arm, still shaking from the adrenaline of almost dying, and the last thing she needed was two wolves fighting over her like she was something they'd found on the ground.
She moved quietly. Carefully. The way you move when you don't want to be noticed.
It didn't work.
Kieran's silver eyes snapped to her.
And something happened in his face that Mira couldn't read a flicker, fast and sharp, like a crack running through glass. Shock first. Then fury. Not at her. At himself. At whatever had just jolted through him hard enough to pull his attention away from Zane entirely.
What are you? The words came out rough. Almost a growl. He took a step toward her, and the air between them seemed to tighten. You smell wrong. Human but not human. What are you?
The question hit like a door slamming open. Everything Mira had read in her mother's journal flashed through her mind in one second werewolves, packs, the Ashford blood, the curse.
She couldn't tell him any of it.
So she lied.
I'm just human, she said. Flat. Simple. No emotion. The kind of answer that gave nothing away.
It was the first time she'd done that on purpose chosen her words like a weapon instead of just speaking. Something clicked into place inside her. A switch flipping. She wasn't just surviving anymore.
She was playing.
Kieran's expression didn't change. But his eyes did. They narrowed not with doubt. With something sharper. Like he already knew she was lying and was trying to decide what to do about it.
He moved.
Mira didn't see it happen. One second he was three steps away. The next, his hand was on her shoulder, firm and fast, and she was pressed against a tree with her back flat against the bark and his body blocking every direction she could run.
It should have been terrifying.
It was.
But it was also wrong.
His grip wasn't crushing. His weight wasn't aggressive. He was close too close, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace, but his hand on her shoulder was shaking. Actually shaking. And his eyes, locked on her face, had gone wide in a way that didn't belong on someone who was supposed to be the most powerful alpha heir in the academy.
He looked afraid.
He leaned in. His face dropped to the side of her neck. And he inhaled slow, deep, like he couldn't help it. Like his body had made the choice and his brain had no say.
His whole body shuddered.
Mira felt it move through him a full-body tremor, like something had hit him from the inside. His fingers curled against her shoulder. His jaw clenched so hard she heard it.
Impossible, he whispered. The word came out broken. Barely there.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled.
Zane hauled Kieran off her like he weighed nothing which, given how big Kieran was, meant Zane was stronger than he looked. He put himself between them, one arm stretched back, palm flat against Kieran's chest.
Control yourself, Bloodmoon, Zane said. His voice was calm. Almost bored. But his eyes were sharp, watching Kieran the way you watch something that might explode. Whatever that was do it later. We're still in the middle of the Trials.
Kieran straightened. His chest was heaving. For a second, something raw and wild flickered across his face something he clearly didn't want anyone to see. He looked at Mira. His mouth opened.
She's he started.
Then he stopped.
His jaw locked shut. Whatever word he'd been about to say died behind his teeth. He turned away, running one hand through his silver hair, and the mask slammed back into place so fast it was almost impressive cold, controlled, untouchable, like the last thirty seconds had never happened.
But Mira had seen it.
The fear. The confusion. The way his body had moved toward her like it didn't have a choice.
She filed it away.
Around them, the forest was still loud. Wolves howling. Branches snapping. Somewhere to the left, a scream cut short. The Trials weren't over. Other candidates were still being tested, still being broken, still being eliminated while the three of them stood here in their own private war.
Then a horn blew.
One long, deep blast that echoed off the mountains and silenced everything. The howling stopped. The growling stopped. Even the wind seemed to hold still.
Voices rose in the distance instructors, maybe, or guards. Calling out commands Mira couldn't quite hear. The surviving candidates began to move, filtering out of the dark like shadows being drawn toward light.
Mira counted without meaning to. Thirty. Roughly thirty people, stumbling, bleeding, exhausted, making their way toward a path that led uphill.
Fifty had gone in.
Thirty were coming out.
She was one of them.
Zane fell into step beside her, close but not touching. Survived your first night, he said quietly. Almost cheerful. Not bad for a human.
Kieran walked ahead. He hadn't looked back once. But Mira noticed his hands were still clenched at his sides.
The path wound upward through thinning trees, and gradually the dark gave way to something else a massive shape rising against the sky, towers of black stone catching the first grey light of dawn. Silvercrest Academy. Enormous and ancient, pressing down on the mountain like it had grown there.
Mira was staring at it at the sheer impossible size of it when someone appeared at her side.
Not Zane. Not Kieran.
Someone new.
He moved like smoke silent, sudden, already there before she registered the movement. Pale blond hair. Sharp features. Eyes the color of ice over deep water. He was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous, like a knife someone had polished until it shone.
He didn't look at her right away. He walked beside her for three full steps, matching her pace perfectly, before he turned his head.
And smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
Three alphas, he murmured. His voice was low and smooth and carried just far enough for her ears alone. Watching you. All night. He tilted his head, studying her the way a cat studies something it hasn't decided to eat yet. Kieran Bloodmoon. Zane Ironclaw. And me.
He let that sit.
Mira looked at him. She didn't know his face. She didn't know his name. But something about the way he held himself perfectly still while everything around him moved told her he was exactly as dangerous as he looked.
You're either very lucky, little human, he whispered. The smile widened just slightly. Just enough. Or very, very doomed.
He disappeared into the crowd of survivors before Mira could answer.
She stood there for a moment, the mark on her palm pulsing, the academy looming ahead, and the weight of his words settling into her chest like a stone dropping into still water.
Three alphas.
She didn't even know what that meant yet.
But the way he'd said it like it was the funniest thing he'd heard all night told her it was about to change everything.