The rain had probably washed off the cheap Beta spray she’d applied that morning. Her eyes remained completely dead as she stared at the toxic pink letters in the stinky suitcase.
What was she going to do?
The gatekeeper, however, didn’t look surprised at all. He merely tilted his umbrella, glancing from the ruined suitcase up to her neutral face. "You must have enemies, huh?"
It wasn’t entirely new to him. Being stationed at these gates for a hundred and eighty years had made him encounter every imaginable breed of petty.
"Let’s go inside," he said quietly.
Lena involuntarily followed him, her jaw locked tight as she held back the volcanic rage plummeting through her veins. She didn’t even know where to begin.
How was she supposed to survive a single semester here with no protection?
And worse... How was she supposed to survive with no underwear?!
They stepped in through the lighthouse, where a second man, the school’s midnight Dorm Warden, was waiting by a desk, reviewing a clipboard.
The gatekeeper gestured toward Lena, who was fuming behind him. "Take her to the lost and found. It happened again."
The Dorm Warden looked over, his nostrils flaring before he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh. That stinks."
"At least it wasn’t body remains this time," the gatekeeper remarked dryly.
They talked about it like it was completely natural, but Lena found the casualness of it highly disturbing. What kind of a school was this?
Alas, they reached an oak door marked Deposits. The Warden unlocked it and pushed it open, gesturing inside. "Check the racks for something pleasant. You can’t walk the corridors looking like a drowned rat."
Lena frowned. What could she possibly find at a lost and found?
But as she stepped through the door, her eyes widened. It looked less like a forgotten storage room and more like a luxury boutique.
Rows of designer fabrics, leather jackets, and custom tailored uniforms lined the walls–all left behind by the wealthiest supernatural heirs in the country who couldn’t be bothered to look for them.
Lena felt She began shifting through the hangers until her hand snagged a thick, heavy fabric.
She thought briefly of Kourtney when she pulled out a short denim jean. Kourtney would have loved this.
Her expression soured at the memory. It was best if she didn’t think about them. But how could she not? They made living in the Pack house feel like... home.
Hell, they were home.
Walking to another rack, she found something. Lena pulled it free.
A sweatshirt. Perfect.
It was a deep, rich brown, and it was large. Incredibly large. She was still holding it up against her frame when the Dorm Warden’s voice echoed from the doorway. "Are you done in there, Miss—"
He choked on his sentence. The grown-ass man almost flinched as he took in the sheer, massive dimensions of the garment Lena was holding.
He subconsciously touched his own muscles, suddenly looking incredibly insecure next to a piece of clothing that could swallow him.
"Just... pick one item," the Warden muttered, clearing his throat and averting his eyes. "Tomorrow you can request a proper voucher from the administration for a replacement luggage."
"Thank you," Lena said quietly.
The moment the Warden stepped back into the hallway to give her privacy, Lena looked down at the brown fabric.
An undeniable, overwhelming urge hit her. She lifted the heavy collar toward her nose and took a breath.
A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.
The scent was absolutely intoxicating. It was dark, rich, and carried the crushing, majestic weight of an unyielding Alpha bloodline. It didn’t just smell good; it felt alive, vibrating straight down into her chest.
Fighting the urge to keep it pressed against her face, she quickly stripped off her wet clothes and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. It swallowed her completely, falling halfway down her thighs like a dress.
She didn’t even need leggings or anything underneath. Her hair was still slightly damp, so she pulled the oversized hood up, letting it cast a shadow over her black eye.
As she gathered her wet school clothes from the floor, her fingers brushed against a small, plastic cylinder in her jacket pocket.
A Beta spray!
She pulled it out, checking the nozzle. It was intact, but it was just a single can. Nowhere near enough to mask her wolfless identity for the entire school year.
Tucking the bottle securely into the deep front pocket of the stolen sweatshirt, she decided to save it. She didn’t need it right now anyway.
The lingering, dominant Alpha scent radiating from this brown fabric was so incredibly potent that it completely masked her own scent, wrapping her in a perfect, protective camouflage.
She left the lost and found, the heavy door clicking shut behind her. Wanting to thank the two staff members, she found the corridor empty.
But as she neared the main exit, she caught a glimpse of two men wearing full hazmat masks, gingerly lifting the condemned suitcase and the stinking underwear away from the gate. She assumed it was them.
Turning her back on the storm, Lena walked further into the deep, echoing depths of Sanatio Academy.
The interior of the main building was staggering. The distant lights she had seen from the mountain road belonged to a massive, gothic atrium with vaulted ceilings and polished marble floors that stretched out like an indoor cathedral.
High above the central archway, carved into pure, gleaming obsidian stone, a massive crest glowed under the chandelier light.
And beneath the crest, the gold-leaf letters read:
WELCOME TO SANATIO ACADEMY.
A School for the Gifted.