Breena had borrowed a set of headphones from one of the night guards, letting the smooth rhythms of her R&B playlist wash over her for the few remaining hours of the night.
At 5:00 AM sharp, her internal clock kicked in.
She slipped out of bed, leaving the corner crib empty where Dodoi had slipped out unnoticed sometime before dawn.
After washing her face with ice-cold water, she pulled own a pair of blue, high-waisted jeans and a soft pink off-the-shoulder crop top.
Sitting before the vanity, she dabbed concealer beneath her eyes, blending away the dark circles carved out by exhaustion, and swept a light coat of lip gloss across her lips.
Thirty minutes later, she made her way down the grand staircase, only to freeze on the bottom landing.
Seated silently on the plush velvet sofa in the main foyer was Hannah—the proud heiress of the Groovesway pack.
A maid had just served her a porcelain cup of tea.
The moment Hannah caught sight of Breena descending the stairs, she set the mug down on the glass tabletop, rising to her feet with an air of cold superiority.
She marched up to Breena, her eyes flashing with disdain.
“Is this how you repay my family for taking you in and feeding you all those years?” Hannah asked, her voice dripping with poison.
“You ungrateful little creature.” She stepped directly into Breena’s personal space, towering over her.
“Do you think securing a small favor from the King makes you royalty?
You are still nothing more than a weak, shiftless wolf.” Breena sneered, tilting her head with a look of bored exasperation.
“Oh, grow up, Hannah.
I thought you would have come up with a fresh narrative by now.” She shoved past Hannah’s shoulder, her tone razor-sharp.
“Get out of my way.
Go find the house manager and collect your servant’s uniform.” Hannah’s face flushed a furious crimson.
To have the orphan girl she had spent years tormenting speak back to her with such callous defiance was intolerable.
Driven by her infamous temper, Hannah lunged forward, snagging a handful of Breena’s dark hair and violently pulling her backward.
Breena gasped, her head snapping back as pain shot across her scalp.
“What are you doing?
Let go!” Before Breena could wrench herself free, a stern, booming voice echoed across the foyer.
“Unhand her immediately—unless you want your very first day of service to end in a painful lesson.” Franco stepped out from the adjacent hallway, looking effortlessly sharp.
He wore a crisp blue suit, a neatly tied bow tie, and black designer sunglasses resting atop his head, looking more like a gentleman arriving for a gala than a royal enforcer.
Hannah instantly released Breena’s hair, taking a timid step backward under Franco’s towering, dangerous gaze.
Franco didn’t glance twice at her; instead, he summoned Daisy, the head housekeeper, with a sharp snap of his fingers, instructing her to assign Hannah her daily manual chores.
Her appetite completely ruined, Breena turned on her heel and strode out the front doors without touching breakfast.
She walked briskly across the paved driveway, her sneakers clicking against the floor as if she could outrun the frustration mounting in her chest.
“Stop right there, Miss,” Franco called out, his heavy strides easily catching up to her.
He walked over to a shimmering black sedan idling near the gates, its engine humming softly, and pulled open the rear passenger door.
“Get inside.” Breena whirled around, glaring up at him.
“The King isn’t even here!
Can you not just let me go to school on my own?” Franco’s face remained an unreadable mask of professional duty.
“No.
Get inside, Miss—unless you prefer to be placed there by force.” Grumbling under her breath, Breena reluctantly climbed into the plush leather back seat.
She leaned her head against the tinted window, staring out at the passing landscape in moody silence.
Her mind was a chaotic tangle of anxiety.
She needed to figure out about those four men at her clinic, and today marked the official start of the new academic semester at Gortgic University.
While regular classes were still two weeks away, campus would be swarming with incoming freshmen—and more importantly, she had an urgent missing-marks issue from last semester that she needed to resolve before the administrative offices became overwhelmed.
An hour later, the car crossed into Gortgic City.
The urban metropolis was a rare neutral haven where humans and werewolves coexisted in relative harmony.
Though wolves made up only a small fraction of the population, strict inter-species laws kept peace on the surface, driving any rogue violence deep into the shadows.
As the morning sun climbed above the horizon, the grand gates of Gortgic University came into view.
Wanting to avoid drawing unnecessary eyes to herself, Breena leaned forward.
“Sir Franco, drop me off here at the corner.
I don’t want a scene.” Franco replied without checking the rearview mirror.
“Negative, Miss.
The King’s explicit command was to deliver you directly to the entrance.” The Rolls-Royce glided smoothly through the main gates, coming to a stop right in front of the central plaza.
The moment the sleek vehicle pulled up, conversations across the courtyard ground to a sudden halt.
Whispers rippled through the massive crowd of freshmen and returning students like wildfire.
Eyes widened in utter disbelief as the imposing, suit-clad bodyguard stepped out, walked around to the passenger side, and held the door open with formal deference.
When Breena stepped out—dressed in simple jeans and a crop top—gasps echoed across the plaza.
“Isn’t that Breena?
The struggling med student who works at that small herbal shop?” “Is that a custom Rolls-Royce?
Who on earth is that man driving her?” “I thought she could barely afford her textbook fees!” Breena’s cheeks burned with heat under the intense scrutiny.
She turned to Franco, whispering harshly through gritted teeth, “You delivered me.
Now leave!” Franco merely adjusted his cuffs, leaning casually against the shiny hood of the car.
“I will wait right here until you finish your business, Miss.
We return to the villa together.” Infuriated, Breena stomped her foot against the pavement, turning on her heel and marching toward the academic library.
She met Jojo inside the quiet study hall.
Together, they navigated the hallways to the department office to locate the professor responsible for her missing grades.
To Breena’s dismay, his desk was empty—a notice on the door indicated he wouldn’t be on campus until later in the week.
With two hours to kill before their scheduled afternoon errands, the two girls tucked themselves into a secluded private cubicle in the back of the library.
Jojo leaned across the table, her eyes glittering with unrefined curiosity.
“So…
tell me everything.
What is the Lycan King actually like in person?
Is he as drop-dead handsome as the rumors say?” As much as Breena loathed the man, her honesty won out.
She let out a soft, reluctant sigh.
“He is dangerously handsome, Jojo.
Intimidatingly so.” Jojo rested her chin in her hands, her expression turning somber.
“So…
how are you planning on dealing with him?” She glanced around nervously before lowering her voice to a whisper.
“I mean…
living under the same roof as the monster who murdered your parents…
You are stronger than me, Breena.
If I were in your shoes, I would have tried to poison his drink on night one.” Breena rested her elbows on the table, her gaze hardening.
“I have my methods.
But taking down a Lycan isn’t simple—his physical resilience is legendary.” “Just make sure you act fast before you get caught,” Jojo warned gently.
“Or worse…
before you find yourself accidentally falling for that handsome face you just described.” Breena scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard it almost hurt.
“Hell no!
Every time I look at him, all I want to do is smash that arrogant face into a wall.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping.
“And speaking of getting caught…
remember that girl Joline I mentioned?
The one from the elite pack?
She saw me getting attacked by Dronti’s jaguar in the Black Forest weeks ago.” Jojo slapped a hand over her mouth, her gasp echoing softly in the quiet room.
“Don’t tell me the King knows!” “He suspects me,” Breena admitted quietly.
“I managed to spin a cover story about being attacked by a wild cat, but it didn’t completely clear me.” Jojo frowned.
“Why?
Did he not believe you?” “It’s worse than that,” Breena murmured, her fingers nervously tracing the grain of the wooden table.
“He revealed that the jaguar’s claws are laced with a slow-acting poison.
Jojo…
I am actively dying.” Jojo instantly scrambled out of her chair, squeezing into Breena’s small booth to grab her shoulders.
“No!
Breena, are you sure in that?
He could be lying just to scare a confession out of you!” “I’m certain because…” Breena swallowed hard, looking into her friend’s eyes.
“Don’t you remember the unexplainable fainting spells and sudden fever spikes I’ve been having for weeks?
The doctors could never find a cause.” Jojo’s face paled.
“I…
I remember.
But that still doesn’t prove it’s poison!
There are hundreds of rare conditions—” “What if it is the poison?” Breena interrupted, her voice trembling slightly.
“What do I do?
If I confess that his jaguar scratched me, he’ll know I was trying to kill his pet and execute me on the spot.” Jojo pulled Breena into a tight embrace.
“Hey, look at me.
We will figure this out together, just like we always do.
I’m not letting anything happen to you.” She released Breena with a reassuring smile, then peeked out through the glass partition of the library window toward the central courtyard, where the sedan was still parked.
Franco was leaning against the driver’s door, arms crossed.
Jojo nudged Breena’s arm with an eyebrow raised.
“Speaking of dangerous distractions…
who is that absolute specimen leaning on the supercar outside?” Before Breena could answer, the door to their study cubicle clicked open.
Mrs.
Helena, the senior lecturer for their second-year Systemic Pharmacology and Medical Pathology module, stepped inside.
Holding a clipboard, her face lit up when she spotted her top student.
“Breena, wonderful!
I was hoping I’d run into you,” Mrs.
Helena said warmly.
“The Dean asked if our top second-year scholars could help direct the incoming freshmen around the department.
Would you and Jojo mind leading a group through the medical building?” Always the modest, respectful student, Breena offered a polite smile.
“Of course, Mrs.
Helena.
We’d be happy to help.” They followed the lecturer out of the library and across the manicured lawn toward the glass-fronted Faculty of Health Sciences and Clinical Medicine building, where a large crowd of nervous first-year students had gathered near the administrative steps.
Mrs.
Helena clapped her hands together to gather the group’s attention.
“Alright, everyone!
Please gather around.
These are two of our brightest upperclassmen, Breena and Jojo.
They will be taking you on a guided tour of the faculty labs, anatomy theaters, and lecture halls.” Before Breena could step forward to greet the group, a loud, scoffing voice cut sharply through the crowd.
“Excuse me, Madam.
Does she even know her way around this campus?
Word around here is that she barely shows up to class.” The crowd parted slightly as the speaker stepped forward.
Hannah was near the back row of the freshmen assembly, her arms crossed, a malicious smirk plastered across her face.
And right beside her, wearing an arrogant grin—was Shadron.