Earlier
Slater
I sat stiffly in the Admission Office, staring past the frosted window to the inner courtyard of Ravenshore Academy.
I was looking at the group of fresh-faced, newly admitted students hanging outside the Assembly Hall. Despite the biting winter cold, they all had bright faces, and the light had not gone out of their eyes yet.
I remembered being just like them.
Green. Naïve. Desperate.
It had only been a year, and yet it felt like another lifetime. The memory of my arrival still haunted me. From the 104 students who had passed the initial screening and were finally accepted as first-year students, only 25 of us remained.
The rest had either dropped out halfway through, unable to handle the rigorous training and the psychological effects that passed for education here, or they had… disappeared.
The official reports always claimed voluntary withdrawal, but I didn't believe it. I have seen too much and heard too much.
What was worse, a lot of parents had no idea what really happened to their missing children. Even if they suspected something, there wasn't much they could do about it. Ravenshore Academy made parents sign comprehensive indemnity forms under the guise of making their child's admission legal; meanwhile, they were signing away the lives of their children.
The terms of the documents were written by the best legal minds money could buy. A few brave parents who had tried contesting it ended up merging their packs with a bigger pack, as they all went broke.
The only thing that had kept me alive and climbing the ranks so quickly was my goal. The real reason I had fought for a place at Ravenshore. The only reason I had endured cruel abuse and hardships from my seniors.
I would survive long enough to expose this place for what it really was. I would tear the Academy down and reveal to the world the horrors hidden behind its prestigious reputation. Every brutal training session, every psychological manipulation, every student who vanished in the night – I documented it all, waiting for the right moment.
The Academy had made one crucial mistake when it accepted me. They thought I was just another privileged Alpha's son seeking to prove himself. They had no idea that I had nothing to lose.
Someone touched my arms, pulling me back from my thoughts. I turned to find Peter, the Alpha Prime, standing beside my chair.
Peter was the senior student leader (Alpha Prime) and was the faculty favourite, seeing him standing next to me reminded me of my first year here. Peter was one of those who had made my life a living hell, all in the name of mentoring.
Every humiliation, every beating disguised as training, every night I'd gone to bed with broken ribs or a split lip – Peter had been behind it.
I would get my revenge eventually, but not yet. Timing was everything here.
I pulled the earbud from my right ear. "Yes, Alpha Prime?"
He gestured toward the main table at the back of the office, where the Student President sat hunched over paperwork. Marcus Webb, a fourth-year student, held the highest elected position among the student body, representing all students in matters concerning administration and welfare.
"He's been calling your name," Peter said, studying my face for any reaction.
I swallowed back a groan and rose from my seat, crossing the room to where Marcus sat examining what appeared to be a student application. When I reached the table, he looked up with a genuinely puzzled expression.
"You didn't tell me you had a brother," he said before I could greet him. "And that he was coming to the Academy?"
It was my turn to be surprised, though I kept my expression blank. Here at Ravenshore, people judged you based on your facial expressions and body language. The less you revealed, the more respect and fear you commanded – and respect often meant the difference between life and death.
"A brother?" I arched a brow.
Marcus nodded and slid the application across the table to me. "This came in with the late admissions. Same surname, same pack. I figured you'd know about it."
I picked up the application form and began examining it. My heart stopped completely when I saw the handwriting. The careful loops of the 'g's, the way the 't's were crossed with a slight upward slant, the curl at the end of each 'y'-I 'd seen this handwriting before.
Once, I'd cherished letters written in this form, had memorised every curve and replayed them on lonely nights.
But that was impossible. The person was miles away from Ravenshore.
"Is he your brother?" Marcus asked impatiently. "Did you know he was coming?"
I forced myself to focus on the application details rather than the handwriting that was making my wolf, Zair, pace restlessly within me. Eamon Riggs. Duskveil Pack. Alpha's son. Birth date that would make this supposed brother the same age as…
"I have no idea who this is," I said quietly. "I don't have a brother."
At that moment, Peter had risen from his chair and approached the table. Without asking for permission, he snatched the application form from my hands and began reading the details aloud.
"Eamon Riggs, Duskveil Pack, Alpha's son…" Peter paused, squinted at the document for a few seconds, before his eyes lit up with recognition. "Wait, I know this person."
"You know this person?" Marcus asked, leaning forward with interest.
Peter nodded. "I helped a boy board the train at Crestborne station. Poor kid was running like his life depended on it, barely made it onto the last car." He grinned at Marcus and gave him a knowing wink. "Looked like fresh meat if you know what I mean. Definitely from some deadbeat, poor pack. Didn't know he was related to our, Slater."
Marcus leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. I could imagine him already looking for ways to use this new student for their twisted games.
"Now I'm dying to really meet him," he commented.
"But what's the problem, though?" Peter asked, looking between me and Marcus.
My mind was already racing with a thousand possibilities. I knew someone from Crestborne Pack – had known her intimately, completely and had loved her with every fibre of my being. And this handwriting… it was so familiar that my chest was physically hurting from looking at it.
Zair stirred in my mind again, whispering the suspicions I couldn't allow myself to believe.
No, Zair said. It can't be. It's not possible. What would she be doing here? Her father would never let her step an inch out of their pack.
If this was truly the person, I think it is, why was she here? How had she managed to enrol on an all-boys' Academy?
The thought of her facing what I'd endured, what had broken so many other students, made something fierce and protective come alive within me. But I couldn't show that yet. I had to be sure it was the same person.
I straightened to my full height. "I think someone is trying to impersonate me."
The room went silent for a beat.
Impersonate you?" Marcus repeated. "What makes you think that?"
"The details are close enough to be believable but different enough to avoid being detected immediately. Plus, I have no brother. I am the only son of my father; I would know if I had a sibling, wouldn't I? This is a classic identity theft technique. Use a real person's background but change just enough details to slip through initial screening."
Peter looked mildly amused, but Marcus was taking it seriously.
"Have you seen this kid? He wore his shirt inside out? There's no way that kid would be smart enough to pull this off. You sure this isn't family?" Peter asked.
"I am sure," I nodded.
"Fine, send a messenger to the Admission Specialist," Marcus instructed Peter. "Slater, you should go to the hall and see who is trying to impersonate you. If someone is using your family's name and reputation to gain fraudulent admission, that's a direct threat to the Academy's integrity."
"I couldn't agree more. Thank you, S.P. I'll head out to the Assembly Hall immediately."