Chapter3 ASHEVILLE

Kael’s POV The campus looked like a castle carved from bloodstone—brooding spires, grotesque arches, and a ticking clock tower that somehow followed your gaze like it knew your sins. But inside? Twelve boys to a room. Noisy. Cramped. Smelling like damp testosterone, silver, and barely washed sheets. “Damn the luxury of this place! But this dorm sucks big time,” Damon hissed, his eyes darting from the chalky white walls to the neatly aligned beds separated by a thin corridor—six on either side like rows of livestock. “You see those fences?” I muttered, jerking my thumb toward the window. “Silver-tipped. Laced with wolfsbane too, I’d bet.” “They’ll either kill us with their rules or those spikes,” Damon groaned, flopping backward onto his bed, arms folded behind his head. “If this wasn’t enough torture, we can’t even flirt with the girls. The best of every pack’s bloodline is here… and we’re expected to behave?” I scoffed. The player in me seethed. Trapped. No flirting, no freedom, no chaos. Just regulations and power plays. “I hope Zoe finds a way to get us out of this freak show soon,” Damon mumbled. “How the hell did they even fit twelve beds into one room?” Draven asked, inspecting his mattress. “Different packs in the same room? This school’s begging for nightly brawls.” “Violence is banned. Not that it stops anyone,” I shrugged. “You can always bend the rules,” came a cool voice behind us. We turned. There stood a smirking, half-dressed warrior with battle scars sliced across his chest like a canvas of war stories. His aura screamed Alpha—and he made no effort to hide it. “I’m Valen Anderson. Crystal Blood. You must be the newcomers,” he said, fist-pumping each of us like we were already teammates. Something about him—his cocky tilt, the mischief in his eyes—told me he was dangerous. And interesting. I nodded, “Kael. These are Damon and Draven. Shadow Gang.” “Corwin Dixon. Moon Shine,” came another voice, smoother, deeper—gorgeous in an intimidating, almost princely way. He wore a crew cut and a perpetual smirk that could melt steel. Their chiseled torsos were marked with scars, more like medals than wounds. They slipped into V-neck shirts effortlessly, revealing just enough muscle to announce they were forged in real battles, not pampered by wealth. Respect. Our pack—Shadow Gang—trained hard. But clearly, so did the rest. “So…” Draven crossed his arms. “What’s the fastest way out of this hellhole?” A beat of silence. Then the two Alpha males erupted. Laughing. Not the polite chuckle sort—but the undignified, floor-rolling, side-holding, tear-shedding kind of laughter. “HAHAHA… DUDE—DID HE JUST—” Corwin howled. “Funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” Valen gasped. “What the hell is so funny?” Damon snapped. “You guys seriously think you can leave Asheville?” Valen managed between wheezes. “You’re adorable.” “What’s the matter, boys? Am I missing out on the joke?” The door swung open again. And in walked the room’s apex predator. Zarek Rexter. Alpha of Silver Bow. Room Monitor. Pack royalty. He had that look—dangerously hot, effortlessly dominant. One of those men who could kill you or kiss you, and you wouldn’t mind either way. He eyed us like prey. “So… you’re the Diamond Heart misfits,” he smirked, folding his arms over his muscled chest. “Names?” “Kael. Damon. Draven.” “Zarek. Alpha blood. Room Monitor. Your boss… technically,” he added with a wink that sent warning bells through my gut. Wait… did he say Silver Bow? That wasn’t possible. I looked at Draven and Damon—both stunned into silence. Corwin. Valen. Zarek. Moon Shine. Crystal Blood. Silver Bow. Three packs who had historically hated each other. Their ancestors had shed blood over territory, betrayal, and even stolen mates. “What… the hell?” Damon whispered. “You three get along?” Draven asked bluntly. Zarek shrugged. “The academy strips a lot of bullshit away. Either you adapt… or die socially.” “That’s hard to believe,” I said. “Silver Bow’s Alpha and Luna were murdered in Moon Shine territory.” “And the Crystal Blood Luna was once betrothed to the Alpha of Ocean Spirit before running off to Moon Shine,” Draven added. Zarek didn’t flinch. Instead, he cocked a brow. “Your history books are a little behind.” Another voice interrupted the tension. “Actually,” it said coolly, “she was the Grand-Luna of Ocean Spirit, not Crystal Blood. She had two marriages before ending up in Moon Shine.” We turned. Another man walked in—leaner than the rest, but no less built. His muscles moved like ripples under sun-kissed skin. His jawline could have been carved by Poseidon himself, and his dark hair framed his sapphire-blue eyes in a way that made it hard not to stare. He looked like trouble. And royalty. “Lucan Cohen,” he introduced without ceremony. “Alpha-in-waiting. Ocean Spirit.” Lee’s voice piped in from behind, “You mean the Great Guardian of the Blue Opal?” Lucan snorted. “I see someone studies pack politics obsessively.” “Guilty,” Damon muttered. Lucan’s smirk widened. “So… what’s this about escaping Asheville?” “We burnt down our old school at Diamond Ville. Now we’re here. Forced to behave. We just want out,” I said flatly. Zarek’s smirk faded. “Look,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “you might be used to rule-breaking. But here, rules are your only shield. If you break them… you get the Red Room.” “The Red Room?” Draven frowned. “What’s that, detention with silver whips?” Valen’s grin was wolfish. “Worse. It can’t be explained.” “But it can be experienced,” Corwin added with a wink. “Sounds exaggerated,” Damon said. “I mean, how scary can it be?” Zarek leaned in, face inches from mine. “Ten minutes inside… and you’ll beg to follow every rule ever made.” “And who enforces that?” I asked. “That tiny woman at the head desk?” “You mean Headmistress Virelle?” Valen laughed darkly. “She’s not just a petite woman,” Lucan said. “She’s a hybrid. Vampire and wolf. Stronger than any full-blood Alpha in this room.” “Hybrid?” Damon said. “So she’s—what—ancient?” “She doesn’t age,” Corwin said. “Rumor has it she was trained by Victor King himself.” My jaw clenched. Victor King—the Vampire King. If he had a hand in this academy… Then we were not just inmates. We were pawns in something much, much bigger. “Well then,” I muttered, turning to Zarek. “Let’s see if we survive the Red Room.” Zarek smirked again, this time darker, like he knew things we didn’t. “Oh… you will,” he said, brushing past me. “But you’ll never be the same again.