The sheer pressure of his inner beast was enough to force the strongest of werewolves to their knees in absolute submission.
Yet, Roxy’s features remained entirely frozen, her eyelashes not even fluttering.
She turned her head slightly to the side, forcing him to meet her gaze, looking straight into the burning center of his glowing golden pupils.
Her voice was a low, steady whisper, her lips nearly brushing his from the sheer proximity.
“Then tell that starving wolf of yours,” she breathed, her tone sharp enough to cut glass, “that I am not a meal that is easily digested.
If he dares to snap at me, he will choke on my hard bones until he suffocates and dies.” In that exact split second, an impossible, jarring shockwave struck the rogue Alpha.
An abrupt, dead silence blanketed the frantic corners of his mind.
The razor-sharp claws of his raging inner beast suddenly retracted, as if a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over its burning fury.
The dominant wolf let out a faint, startled whine an anxious, utterly confused sound.
The beast had just detected a faint, enigmatic whisper of an aura radiating from the depths of this defiant human.
It was an ancient, unidentifiable pressure that neither man nor wolf could comprehend.
It forced the beast to recoil against its own volition, fiercely refusing to harm a single layer of her skin.
Deep within his subconscious, the monster whispered with a strange, possessive, and hollow depth: *(She is powerful…
She belongs to us!)* Cayden’s eyes snapped wide in genuine, soul-shaking horror.
He forcefully threw himself a massive step backward, wrenching his hands off the wall as if he had been struck by a high-voltage current.
He violently shook his head from side to side, desperate to drown out the confused, retreating voice of his own wolf.
He glared at Roxy, his expression a chaotic storm of white-hot rage, intense curiosity, and cautious threat.
Roxy calmly reached up with her fingertips, straightening the collar of her navy blazer with absolute detachment.
A triumphant, cutting smirk carved onto the corner of her lips.
Cayden hoisted a heavy, trembling index finger, thrusting it toward her face as he backed toward the threshold.
His heavy boots shook the old wooden floorboards, his voice a burning promise of cruelty that filled the room before he turned.
“Enjoy your final night in this rotting attic, nobody…
Because at the welcoming ceremony tomorrow, I will have the entire academy hunt you like prey in the forest until you are begging for mercy on your knees!” He whirled around and slammed the door behind him with a violent, thunderous crash that caused the stone walls to vibrate.
Roxy finally let out a long, slow breath, releasing the hot air she had kept tightly locked in her chest.
She walked with a measured stride toward the open window, her eyes tracking his massive silhouette as he stormed across the courtyard below.
A wicked, calculated smile bloomed across her face.
“So, your wolf isn’t quite the terrifying monster you claim he is, Alpha,” she whispered into the night.
“In reality, he looks like just another little puppy in desperate need of taming.” Roxy turned toward the small iron bed resting in the corner and tossed her exhausted body onto the mattress, collapsing fully onto her back.
She laced her fingers behind her head, staring up at the web of fractures spider-webbing across the ceiling.
Her thoughts whirled like cold gears, analyzing the rapid escalation of the day.
Being in this bizarre territory felt closer to a science fiction dream than the reality of an orphan girl.
She had never imagined crossing into the secret world of lycanthropes, but Professor Simon had handpicked her out of millions of humans to throw her directly into the lion’s den.
Yet, a hollow, persistent question lingered in the corners of her mind, moving in tandem with her breathing: *If humans can’t survive for more than a single week in this savage, predatory hell…
what keeps driving them to come here willingly?* The sharp pang of hunger in her empty stomach abruptly severed her train of thought.
She swung her legs off the bed in a fluid, rapid motion, brushing a layer of settling dust off her navy trousers.
She shoved open the wooden door and descended the narrow, gray stone steps.
Crossing the silent corridor of the Royal Elite Wing with cautious ease, she marched down the towering marble stairs, step by step, until she reached the Grand Reception Hall.
She paused, surprised by the total vacuum of sound.
The usual chaotic chatter had been entirely replaced by an eerie, sweeping stillness.
She scanned the space, her eyes searching the shadows for any sign of life, until she spotted the rigid, severe posture of the Head Overseer standing near one of the central pillars.
Roxy adjusted her jacket and walked directly toward her, her eyes demanding an answer to satisfy her hunger.
“Mrs.
Collins,” Roxy called out, her voice cutting through the silence.
“Where has everyone gone?
The entire place looks completely abandoned.” Mrs.
Collins pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose with her index finger.
She glanced down at the ticking hands of her wristwatch, her response dry and barren of any warmth.
“It is the hour of the academy’s official dinner.
At exactly seven o’clock, every single student without exception is required to be in the Grand Dining Hall.” She snapped her wrist back down, her dark eyes locking onto Roxy.
“Abide by the schedule in the future if you have any intention of surviving here.” Roxy offered a slow, indifferent nod, sliding her hands back into her pockets.
“I wasn’t informed of the scheduling rules yet.
Where exactly can I find this hall?” The Overseer dismissively waved a flat palm toward the dark end of the main corridor, not even bothering to look Roxy in the eye.
“Behind those massive double doors at the very end of the hallway.” Roxy offered a faint, acknowledging tilt of her head.
She turned and walked with a firm, rhythmic stride toward the giant wooden gates, planting both palms against the heavy timber.
With a sharp, forceful shove, she threw them open.
The scene unveiled an impossibly high-ceilinged hall, massive enough to accommodate thousands of creatures.
Long, dense, and intersecting queues of students stretched across the stone floor, waiting in rigid lines to receive their metal trays.
The scattered tables roared with movement and heavy clatter, flagrantly mapping out the strict social hierarchy Simon had outlined.
In the farthest, darkest corners of the hall, beneath the oppressive shadows of the low ceiling beams, narrow, cheap, and ancient wooden tables were packed haphazardly together.
The low-ranking Omegas huddled there, their bodies completely hunched over their plates as if trying to shrink into invisibility.
Their eyes darted with permanent, frantic anxiety at every loud noise, their hands trembling as they gripped their utensils, faces masked in perpetual fear.
In the vast, beautifully illuminated center of the hall stretched wide, heavy tables crafted from polished oak.
The Beta students dominated this space, their massive builds and broad shoulders proudly on display.
Loud, booming laughter and arrogant roars erupted from their factions, filling the air with an absolute, unbended confidence in their raw physical power.
But at the absolute crown of the hall, resting upon an elevated, exclusive pavilion that required ascending a flight of sweeping, immaculately polished marble stairs, sat a singular masterpiece.
It was a giant circular table crafted entirely from luxurious, gleaming black marble that perfectly mirrored the light of the crystal chandeliers dangling directly above it.
This royal table was heavily adorned with shimmering golden platters, overflowing with an extravagant feast seared meats glistening with oils, rare exotic fruits, and delicate pastries.
Yet, its plush, black leather-padded chairs were entirely vacant.
Not a single student in the entire hall dared to even approach the perimeter of those marble steps, let alone dream of touching the food.
Roxy evaluated the sprawling queues stretching out like lines of waiting ants.
Another sharp pang in her stomach made it clear she lacked both the patience and the energy to stand in a suffocating line for hours just to receive a prison-like ration.
A cold, rebellious smirk pulled at the corner of her lips.
She moved forward with a straight, military posture, effortlessly bypassing the endless lines of students without a single glance.
She slid past the stunned, whispering crowds, and reached the base of the grand marble stairs.
Without a trace of hesitation, she began ascending the steps, her movements deliberate and calm under the awakening stares of a few students whose faces rapidly twisted in sheer disbelief.
Roxy stepped onto the summit of the pavilion, arriving beside the massive black marble table.
She pulled back a heavy leather chair, the legs scraping quietly against the stone, and seated herself with the absolute poise of a monarch.
She picked up a heavy golden serving spoon resting beside a pristine plate, scooped a lavish, overflowing portion of seared meats and delicacies onto her dish, and began to eat with complete, spine-chilling serenity.
Suddenly…
the entire hall died.
The roaring, boisterous laughter at the Beta tables instantly evaporated.
The terrified, muffled whispers of the Omegas in the dark corners vanished into nothingness.
An absolute, deafening silence gripped the massive space so profound that the drop of a single needle on the marble floor would have echoed like thunder.
Thousands of students froze dead in their tracks, transformed into solid stone statues.
Hands holding cups or forks remained suspended mid-air.
Every single face and eye in the room pivoted toward the high pavilion in absolute, jaw-dropping shock, a suffocating terror hanging over the crowd as they braced for an immediate catastrophe.
They were staring at this newly arrived human girl who had just, with unparalleled, suicidal arrogance, defiled the sacred table of the Alphas and sat eating their royal food.
Roxy noticed the crushing, abrupt quiet that had blanketed the room.
She slowly lifted her head, completely unbothered by the thousands of wide, horrified eyes tracking her every move.
She casually swirled a piece of meat on her plate, letting her cool gray eyes drift over the massive crowd that surrounded her pavilion like a jury waiting for an execution.
She chewed her food with agonizing slowness, picked up a linen napkin, and gently dabbed the corner of her lips with fluid, delicate grace.
Her voice rose calm, resonant, and entirely steady carrying perfectly through the vacuum of the silent hall: “What are you all staring at?” she asked, setting the napkin down with a soft click against the marble.
“I’m hungry, as you can see, and this big table was completely empty.”