Chapter 10 First Impressions
POV: Mina (Age 17)
The carriage stopped at Lycan Spirit Academy's iron gates, and I took a deep breath before stepping out.
The binding around my chest was tight, uncomfortable, but necessary. I'd wrapped it carefully that morning, making sure my silhouette looked masculine under Rafe's uniform. The grief in my chest felt like a stone, heavy and permanent, but I used it. Let it weigh down my emotions, keep my face neutral and cold.
I was Rafe Sterling now. And Rafe Sterling didn't cry or break down or show weakness.
I stepped onto the Academy grounds and immediately understood why they called this place a fortress.
Everything was granite and steel. The main building rose four stories high, all sharp angles and narrow windows that looked more like arrow slits than anything meant to let in light. The walls were reinforced with iron, and guard towers stood at each corner of the compound.
This wasn't a school. This was a prison designed to break anyone who wasn't strong enough to survive.
The courtyard was filled with students, and I felt the weight of their attention immediately. Hundreds of male wolves, all Alphas, all radiating dominance and power. They moved in packs, sized each other up, established hierarchies through posture and eye contact alone.
And every single one of them was staring at me.
I kept my head down but my shoulders back, mimicking the way Rafe used to walk. Confident but not aggressive. Aware but not challenging. The posture of someone who knew his place in the world but didn't need to prove it.
A staff member approached with a clipboard, his expression bored and efficient.
"Name," he said without looking up.
I pulled out Rafe's notepad and wrote.
Rafe Sterling.
The staff member's eyes widened slightly when he read the name. "Sterling. Right. Elite dorms, naturally. You're in the North Wing, third floor. Your roommate will be assigned later."
He handed me a key and a packet of information. "Registration is in the main hall. Get processed, get your schedule, and try not to cause problems. The Academy doesn't tolerate weakness or disruption."
I nodded and took the materials, then started walking toward the main building.
Whispers followed me across the courtyard.
"That's the Sterling heir."
"Heard he's mute. Can't even speak."
"Bet that won't last long here. This place eats defects alive."
"Elite family though. He's probably protected."
"No one's protected at the Academy. Not really."
I ignored the whispers and kept walking, my hand instinctively moving to my pocket where Rafe's knife was hidden. The weight of it was comforting, a reminder that I wasn't completely defenseless.
The registration process was efficient and impersonal. I provided Rafe's documentation—birth certificate, pack registration, medical records that Father had carefully forged to hide my true identity. Everything passed inspection without issue.
The registrar barely looked at me as she stamped my papers and handed me my official Academy identification.
"Welcome to Lycan Spirit Academy, Mr. Sterling," she said in a monotone. "Try to survive."
It wasn't a joke. I could see in her eyes that she meant it literally. Most students survived the Academy, but not all of them. And even the ones who survived often left broken in ways that never fully healed.
I was assigned to the Elite dorms, which apparently meant I'd be living with the children of the most powerful families in the pack territories. The North Wing was reserved for nobility, high-ranking Alphas, and anyone with enough money or influence to buy their way into the best accommodations.
Rafe's status as Sterling heir had earned him a place there automatically.
As I walked through the courtyard toward the dormitory, I felt eyes tracking my every move. The other students were evaluating me, trying to figure out if I was a threat or a victim. Trying to decide if I was worth befriending or worth destroying.
I kept my expression neutral and my notepad ready. The Academy culture was clear—show weakness and you'd be devoured. Show too much strength and you'd be challenged. The key was finding the balance between the two.
I was halfway across the courtyard when I felt it. A shift in the air. A change in the energy around me.
Three figures were descending a stone staircase from an upper balcony, moving with the kind of casual arrogance that came from knowing you were untouchable.
The Elite Trio.
I'd seen them from the carriage, but up close they were even more intimidating. All three were tall, muscular, radiating Alpha dominance that made other students instinctively move out of their way.
The one in the center was dark-haired and sharp-featured, with eyes that looked like they could cut through steel. He moved like a predator, every step calculated and dangerous.
To his left was a blonde wolf with a cruel smile and the kind of beauty that probably made people stupid. But his eyes were cold, empty of anything resembling mercy.
And to his right was the largest of the three, all muscle and brutal strength, with scars on his knuckles that suggested he enjoyed using his fists.
They were staring directly at me.
The whispers around the courtyard died down. Other students backed away, giving the Trio a wide berth. Everyone knew what was about to happen.
The Elite Trio had found their new target.
The dark-haired one in the center stopped about ten feet away from me, looking me up and down with an expression that was equal parts amusement and contempt.
Then he spoke, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Well, well. Fresh meat."