Chapter 2 Strike back if you've got the balls
Chapter 002
RAVENNA
I threw off the covers and swung my legs over the bed, already itching to get out of this pristine cage they called a dorm.
The room at Midnight Academy was nothing like my old life—no garage smells, no bike parts scattered across the floor, no freedom.
Just a stiff mattress, a plain desk, and a window overlooking the quad where early-rising rich kids jogged in perfect formation, looking busy and untouchable.
Everything was too clean, too perfect. My fingers twitched for grease and the familiar clank of tools.
This place wasn’t polished stone and polite smiles, it felt like I’d been swallowed whole by someone else’s world.
I stretched, feeling the lingering ache from yesterday’s ride, and pulled on jeans and my favorite leather jacket. Screw the uniform.
I’d deal with that later. First priority: registration. Second: avoid that wolf prick until I was ready to make him my problem.
I grabbed my duffel and headed out. The campus paths were lined with ancient stone buildings that screamed old money.
Students moved with purpose, mostly shifters, judging by their confident, pack-like strides.
A few humans like me stuck to the edges, trying not to draw attention.
I kept my head down.
Luck, of course, had other plans.
As I cut across the main lawn toward the admin building, a shadow fell over me.
I looked up and there he was.
Darius Pike.
His arms were crossed, blocking my path like he owned the sidewalk, the grass, the air itself. He was tall and broad, with long brown curls framing a face too sharp to be real.
Those mismatched eyes—one warm brown, one cold black—locked on me.
My heart did a stupid little skip. Heat flashed across my skin where his shadow touched me. I hated that my body noticed him at all.
His hockey boys flanked him—two walls of muscle smirking like they already knew how this ended.
“Well, well,” Darius said, voice smooth but edged with ice. Up close, he was even taller, that expensive cologne wrapping around me like a blanket. “If it isn’t the dust bunny from yesterday. You've got a death wish, riding through here like that? Apologize. Now.”
Almost immediately, phones came out. The movements of student slowed, hungry for drama.
I stopped, meeting his stare without flinching. “Death wish? Nah, that’s you, pretty boy. Blocking a girl’s path like some wannabe gatekeeper. Move or I’ll make you.”
His eyes narrowed. A flash of gold flickered in them. I'm guessing it's wolf stuff. His friends shifted, ready.
“You think you’re tough?” he said quietly. “This is my territory. You owe me for the jacket. Say sorry, and maybe I won’t have you shipped back to whatever trailer park you crawled out of.”
I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. “Trailer Park? Cute guess. But here’s your apology: Sorry your ego’s so fragile it can’t handle a little gravel.” I leaned in, voice low. “Now fuck off before I give you something real to cry about.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Someone whispered, “Did she just…?”
Darius’s jaw clenched. Fists balled. I didn’t wait for the explosion; I shouldered past him hard enough to make him stumble half a step.
Walking away felt good. Dangerous even.
My pulse pounded as I thought about Jax, the crew, the garage and everything I’d left behind to walk straight into the wolves’ den.
This could cost me everything.
Worth it?
For Asteria of course.
Hell yes, I’d roll the dice.
“Let him stew,” I muttered under my breath. “That was just the appetizer.”
The admin building was cool relief—quiet, wooden panels, a bored receptionist. I slid my ID across the counter.
“Raven Casmir. Scholarship transfer. Room key, uniform, schedule—the works.”
She typed without looking up. “Room 214, east dorms. Uniform, blazer, skirt. Classes start tomorrow. No bikes on grounds after hours, got it?”
“Got it,” I muttered, stuffing the bundle under my arm. The uniform looked itchy and ridiculous, but whatever.
I turned to leave—and nearly collided with a girl carrying a tower of books like armor.
“Oh! Sorry!” She steadied herself, short brown hair falling into big hazel eyes that somehow mirrored mine. “You’re the new girl, right? I’m Sam. Room 214. Don’t freak—my stuff’s everywhere, and I don’t do fake smiles.”
I sized her up—jeans, hoodie, sneakers. Normal. Not wolfy. Not snobby. “Raven. Hope you don’t mind mess. I travel light but rough.”
She grinned, nervous but real. “No problem. I saw you out there with Darius. That was… bold. Most people just bow and scrape around him.”
We walked toward the dorms together. “Bold? Just honest. Guy’s an ass. What’s his deal—thinks he’s king of the world?”
Sam laughed softly, easing the tension in my shoulders. “Pretty much. Alpha heir, hockey captain, billionaire family, dates whoever he wants and dumps them like trash. But you? Telling him to fuck off on day one? That’s new. You’re going to stir things up here, Raven. I can feel it.”
I unlocked our door. It’s a basic room of two beds, two desks, shared bathroom. My side empty; hers covered in band posters and a stuffed bear on the pillow.
“Stirring things up is my specialty,” I said, tossing my duffel down.
We kept talking—her complaining about the cafeteria’s mystery meat, me ranting about the no-bike rule and how this place felt like a gilded cage. She didn’t judge my rough edges; I didn’t mock her quiet life. By the time we finished unpacking, it felt like we’d known each other way longer than a couple hours. Sam was grounded, funny, the kind of person who made this wolf-infested academy feel a little less hostile.
Later, over lunch in the cafeteria, Sam leaned across the table, eyes sparkling. “So, welcome party tonight. Off-campus frat house. Hockey guys hosting at Luca’s place. Everyone’s going. You in?”
I poked at my salad, stomach twisting. Parties meant crowds. Crowds meant Darius. “Pass. I’d rather tune my bike or crash early.”
She leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “But it’s Darius’s circle. His entire pack will be there, posturing and showing off.” She grinned. “Come on, Raven. It’ll be fun. I’ll be your wing woman. Protect you from the big bad wolves.”
I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. The idea sank in, Darius surrounded by his admirers, and me walking in like I owned the room. Perfect chance to poke the bear again. Watch him squirm.
“You know what?” I said, smirking. “Yeah. I’m in. But if it sucks, you’re buying me coffee for a week.”
“Deal!” Sam clapped her hands, practically bouncing.
Evening came fast. The frat house was massive log-cabin style, fairy lights strung up, bass thumping through the walls.
Expensive cars lined the drive. Music spilled out mixed with laughter and real, throaty howls that weren’t just for show.
We pushed inside to find wolves everywhere. Guys posturing with flexed muscles, girls giggling and flirting, drinks flowing freely. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and those heavy shifter pheromones that made my skin prickle and my pulse race in ways I didn’t want to examine.
Sam grabbed us cups of spiked punch and we stuck to the edges, watching the chaos unfold.
It didn’t take long for trouble to find me.
Darius held court in the center of the room, a blonde draped possessively on his arm. His mismatched eyes scanned the crowd then locked on me like a predator sighting prey.
The blonde pouted as he shrugged her off coldly, almost dismissively, and started weaving through the crowd straight toward us.
“Raven Casmir,” he murmured when he reached me, voice low and mocking, whiskey heavy on his breath. He stepped in close, toes brushing mine, heat and that damn cologne flooding my senses. “Didn’t expect you to show your face so soon. Come to grovel?”
Sam hovered tensely behind me. The music seemed to dip; people turned, phones rising again.
I set my cup down slowly, facing him square. “Grovel? Dream on, Darius. I came to see if this party’s as lame as its king. Spoiler: it is.”
His friends chuckled nervously behind him. Darius didn’t laugh.
He leaned in closer, towering over me, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’ve got a mouth on you, little fire. But mouths get shut around here. What’s your real angle, scholarship girl? Think you can play with the big dogs?”
My blood heated as memories of Asteria’s tears flashing hot and bright. I grabbed a fresh red drink from a passing tray and held it inches from his chest.
“Insult?” I breathed. “I’m just getting started. Touch me, wolf boy, and you’ll regret it more than anything in your perfect little life.”
No one in the room dared breathe.
In a flash, I flicked my wrist and the drink splashed across his collarbone, soaking into his shirt, crimson rivulets dripping down golden, heated skin.
Dead silence.
A low, guttural growl rumbled deep in his throat, primal, inhuman, vibrating through the floor and straight into my boots.
His hand shot out lightning-fast, fingers closing around my wrist.
His eyes flared full gold, beast barely leashed.
“Careful, little fire,” he rasped, voice rough with something darker than anger—something that made my breath catch. “Some beasts bite back.”