In his mind, his playful wolf cheered with reckless triumph: *(Let her feel the heat of our claws!
She thinks boldness belongs solely to her show her how the Alistair bloodline plays with fire without burning their fingers!)* Zane narrowed his brown eyes, a cheeky smirk stretching across his face.
He dipped his shoulder slightly, using his massive frame to block the corridor behind him entirely, allowing his playful tone to buzz against her ears with mischief: “No need to rush, my fierce cat…
taking the robe off here was merely a suggestion to elevate the night’s excitement.
But I am a gentleman, after all; I take no pleasure in watching my prey freeze in a cold hallway after a warm bath.” With a swift, powerful wrench, Roxy snatched her hand free from his fingers, snapping the black silk robe tightly back around her frame.
She lifted her chin with an unmerciful, mocking smirk: “A gentleman?
That is a grand word for a wolf lurking in the dark to corner a woman holding her clothes in her hands…
keep your chivalry to yourself, Zane.
I have no need for the mercy you sing about.” Zane burst into a low, confident laugh that vibrated through his solid chest.
He turned his body halfway to grant her a narrow passage to leave, stepping back as if bowing to a rebellious queen.
Within his consciousness, his wolf whispered in awe laced with thrill: *(She ignores you and walks with pure pride!..
This human girl is about to drag a whole new kind of hell into the academy, Zane, and I cannot wait for the next round!)* Zane winked a brown eye, his gaze following the stray droplets of water sliding down her red strands onto her shoulder, speaking in a tone brimming with playful malice: “Keep the robe for tonight, Roxy…
consider it a debt between us.
But remember: whenever you wear something marked with my initials (Z .
A), you are summoning the wrong wolf at the wrong time!” Roxy strode past him with steady, icy steps without granting him so much as a glance back.
She left the fresh scent of her bath mingled with the silk robe wafting in her wake, declaring the end of this encounter entirely on her own terms.
Leaning his broad shoulder against the cold marble wall, Zane tracked her majestic figure, running his index finger over his lower lip with a widening smirk.
His wolf paced back and forth in his consciousness, buzzing with delight: *(Look at how she walks!..
She didn’t even turn around to see if we were following her.
She ignores us, and that alone is enough to turn tonight into the start of an unforgettable game!)* A sarcastic hum rolled from Zane’s throat, his low voice audible only to himself and his inner beast: “Patience, my friend…
fierce cats are not caught by running after them, but by letting them believe they hold the upper hand.” On the winding staircase, Roxy climbed the concrete steps with steady, deliberate strides, her grip tight around her dry clothes.
Despite the frozen composure she had projected before Zane, her mind buzzed with the chaotic events of the morning: a possessive, grim Alpha like Asher coldly analyzing her nakedness, and a playful, provocative Alpha like Zane treating her audacity like an entertaining theatrical performance!
Reaching the upper floor, she pushed the door open and stepped into her room.
She dropped her clothes onto the small wooden table and stood before the antique mirror with its tarnished gold frame, studying the gold embroidered initials **(Z .
A)** on the chest of the black silk bathrobe.
A sharp, stubborn smirk pulled across her lips as she whispered to herself into the silence of the attic: “You think this academy is your personal playground, wolves…
but you will soon learn that the flame you are trying to play with will consume your rules entirely.” The first rays of sunlight filtered through the attic window, brushing across Roxy’s face.
Rising with deliberate, unhurried movements, she dressed in the official academy uniform.
She opened her large leather trunks, taking out luxurious garments and arranging them inside the vintage wooden wardrobe: natural silk fabrics, heavy coats with expensive linings, all bearing high-end designer tags.
She had never been wealthy nor possessed vast riches, but she had mastered the art of playing the game, exploiting the weaknesses of others until the finest things were handed to her on a silver platter.
From the bottom of the trunk, she pulled out a fiery red dress with a train framed by rich purple silk ribbons resting against the floor.
Her fingers brushed over its smooth fabric, a sharp smirk settling on her lips as she murmured with absolute self-assurance: “This is what I will wear tonight for the welcoming banquet.” She closed the wardrobe door after setting her final items in order, then headed down the stairs toward the massive dining hall.
The air inside hummed with the noise of hundreds of students and clattering cutlery.
She spotted Cynthia standing a few feet away, holding a tray piled with hot food, preparing to sit down.
With a swift, seamless movement, Roxy’s hand reached out, snatching the tray right out of Cynthia’s grip, and casually taking a seat in the wooden chair opposite her.
Lifting her head, Roxy offered a smirk laced with mockery: “Thank you for bringing my food.” Cynthia froze in place, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked at her missing tray: “Roxy…
that’s my food!” Roxy picked up her fork and casually poked at the meat on the plate without blinking: “And now…
it’s mine.” Cynthia exhaled in frustration, her face twisting as she yanked her sleeves up, feeling the pressure of the surrounding chatter in the hall.
She drew herself up, tilting her head in raw anger: “Roxy, I am not your servant!
Have you forgotten that you’re just a human?” Roxy took a bite of her food, chewing with absolute cold detachment, ignoring Cynthia’s flushing face, speaking without even lifting her eyes from the plate: “Fetch me a bottle of water…
I am thirsty.” Cynthia’s voice snapped across the crowded hall: “I told you, I am not your servant!” The surrounding students paused, dozens of heads turning toward the commotion.
A mocking whisper rose from an adjacent table: “Is that the human girl the Alpha humiliated yesterday?” Another student chimed in with a scoff, pointing two fingers: “Did you see her face covered in broth?” A girl sitting nearby let out a ringing laugh: “I bet that weak Omega could handle her with ease!” The words reached Cynthia’s ears, pumping a sudden surge of audacity and a desperate urge to prove herself into her veins.
She raised her palm high, marshaling her energy to deliver a harsh slap onto the back of Roxy’s head, which was bowed over the plate.
Yet the hand suspended in the air was cut short in mid-flight.
Roxy caught Cynthia’s wrist midway in an iron grip, making the joints crack beneath the pressure.
Surrounding eyes widened in shock; even though Cynthia was a wolf-less Omega, her physical build still far exceeded that of a normal human.
Roxy rose with agonizing slowness without loosening her fierce hold, twisting Cynthia’s arm behind her back with lightning accuracy.
She pressed down on the joint until Cynthia was forced to submit, dropping to her knees onto the cold ceramic floor.
Leaning down, Roxy brought her lips close to Cynthia’s trembling ear, whispering in a dry tone dripping with venom: “Do not ever attempt to do that again…
ever.” Cynthia went still under the crushing grip, gasping at the sudden pain in her wrist.
Roxy released her gradually, casually taking her seat once more, adjusting her collar with steady composure before delivering a firm command: “Fetch me a bottle of water…
quickly.” Scrambling to gather her composure, Cynthia stood up with faltering steps amid the stunned silence of the students, rushing toward the beverage station before running back with a bottle.
She placed it on the table before Roxy and sat on the opposite edge, panting as she stared at her reddened wrist: “Are you really human?” Roxy arched her left eyebrow, her lips twisting into an unmerciful smirk as she spoke softly: “I am a vampire.” Cynthia flinched, leaning her body back, staring blankly at Roxy’s unbothered face: “Are…
are you really a vampire?” Roxy held Cynthia’s trembling gaze for a lingering second before her side-smirk widened with provocative slowness.
She released a soft, dry laugh that sliced like a razor through the tense whispers filling the dining hall.
Tilting her head to the side, she rested her forearms on the table, sweeping her icy gray eyes across Cynthia’s pale face.
She raised the plastic water bottle between her fingers and twisted the cap with agonizing slowness, producing a sharp click that echoed softly in the quiet space.
She took a calm, unhurried sip before sealing the cap back on with a firm press.
She spoke in a composed, quiet tone, dripping with an absolute confidence that made the surrounding air feel instantly heavier: “If I were a vampire, Cynthia…
I wouldn’t waste my time starving myself over a plate of boiled eggs.
I would have started with a warm drink straight from that soft neck of yours the moment you tried raising your hand to my face.” Cynthia’s eyes widened in sheer shock and confusion, her body flinching back a couple of inches while the watchful eyes of the students scattered throughout the hall tracked Roxy’s every move.
There wasn’t a single trace of hesitation on Roxy’s sharp features; she simply took another cold, deliberate bite of her food, her vibrant red hair cascading over her shoulders with complete composure.
Roxy shifted her mocking gaze back toward the Omega, who was desperately trying to straighten her outfit with hands that trembled in secret.
She delivered her words in a sharp, self-assured tone without ever raising her voice: “Remember this well…
the human you look down on doesn’t need claws to put you on your knees.
Now, keep your mouth shut and let me finish my breakfast in peace.”