Chapter 7 Unwanted Attention
Malia's POV
I’m already dreading Werewolf Studies and I haven’t even stepped inside yet.
It’s not like, y’know, just another class—it’s the class. The one where they split the wheat from the chaff, the purebloods from the… well, the purebloods from the likes of me.
The hall is huge with air-cushioned floors and one wall covered in mirrors from ceiling to floor. It’s the stench of sweat, and dominance, and something ancient that makes my weak wolf cower further inside me.
Students are already warming up—some stretching, others doing partial shifts. I watch a girl take claws from her fingertips effortlessly, and then she swiftly retracts them. Another guy's eyes switch from brown to gold, and then back to brown, as if they were flicking a switch.
I can't even get through one shift without blacking out for several hours afterwards.
Perfect.
I locate a place at the back corner and sit down, trying to become part of the wall. July and Freddy aren’t in this class—different schedule blocks which means I’m completely on my own.
Well, not completely.
Aiden Moonfall stands near the front with a handful of other high-ranking wolves, looking far too perfect in all the right ways in fitted athletic gear. His presence fills the space without him so much as needing to speak. Other students seem drawn to him, like he's the sun and they're pitiable little planets.
I look away before he catches me looking.
The professor arrives — a tall, broad-shouldered woman with streaks of silver in her dark hair and the kind of posture that shouts “I could break you like a twig.” Professor Thorne.
I've been told things about her: ex-elite guard, trafficked in the territorial wars, has no patience for weakness.
Great. Just great.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. The room went silent immediately. "Today we're going to start learning about dominance training — the basis for pack hierarchy and survival."
My stomach is in knots.
“Dominance is not about aggression,” Professor Thorne says as she strolls deliberately. “It’s about control. Confidence. The power to make your wolf submit to your will before you can ever expect another wolf to submit to you.”
She stops, her gaze sweeping the room with sharp eyes that seem to size up every single student.
"We're going to do a basic drill. You need to bring your wolf out — just as much as you need to let her come out. Eyes, claws, aura. Prove your control."
Around me, students begin immediately. I shut my eyes and go inward.
Come on, I beg. A little bit. Just a little. Just enough.
My wolf stirs reluctantly, whimpering. She’s so tiny, so exhausted. I push harder, I beg her to come up for air.
My fingers are tingling. My vision blurred a little.
No glowing eyes. No claws. Just a faint tremor in my hands that I could easily mistake for nervousness.
As I open my eyes I'm looking up at Professor Thorne is hovering right in front of me.
My breathing halts.
She looks down at me, expression unreadable. "Who are you?"
"M-Malia Hart," I say.
“Show me your wolf, Miss Hart.”
The room goes quiet. Everyone is watching now.
I can feel their eyes on me, like weights on my shoulders.
“I… I tried, Professor. She's just—"
“Try harder.”
Her voice is not cruel, but it is firm. Unrelenting.
Again I close my eyes, searching desperately. My wolf whimpers, falling back.
Please, I beg, don’t make me look weak. Not here. Not in front of everyone.
But she won't come.
She can't.
I open my eyes, shame burning hot in my chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t—"
"She's a hybrid," someone muttered that was loud enough to hear.
Snickers ripple through the room.
Professor Thorne's expression remains the same. She just nods once. “Hybrids are known to have trouble holding control due to competing instincts. You'll need extra practice, Miss Hart. I suggest you deal with it outside of class.”
It’s not said meanly.
But it still feels like a spotlight on all of the things that I’m not. She moves on, continuing her survey of the other students. I sink back into my corner, wishing that I could just melt away.
Across the room, I catch Aiden staring at me.
No mocking. No disgusted.
Just... watching.
His blue eyes hold me for a moment before he looks away, jaw tight. I don't know what that look meant. And I'm not sure I want to be.
After the one-to-ones, Professor Thorne calls the next routine.
"Pair up. You'll be doing some practice in scent recognition — learning to ‘read’ emotions via scent with your partner. This is critical in pack dynamics and threat assessments.”
Students start pairing off with friends almost immediately.
I stand frozen, watching everyone find partners. Everyone finds partners.
No one comes up to me. Absolutely no one, of course.
A tousle-haired guy with a cocky smirk walks up and gazes me up and down with thinly veiled contempt.
"Looks like you’re stuck with me, hybrid,” he says.
I’ve seen him in the cafeteria – One of Lydia’s minions. His name is Garrett, I think.
"Some lucky me," I murmur.
He hears it and the smirk grows wider. "Don't worry. I’m not going to gag.”
We make our way to a clear area on the mat. Professor Thorne tells us the drill One person projects an emotion – fear, anger, happiness – and the other identifies it by scent alone.
Garrett goes first.
He closes his eyes, and I can immediately smell the change in his scent – sharp and aggressive and somehow acidic.
"Anger”.I mutter.
He opens his eyes, clearly annoyed that I am correct. "Beginner's luck. "
Now It’s my Turn.
I close my eyes and try to be calm.
But my wolf is too shaken, too weak. My scent changes hardly a bit.
Garrett sniffs the air dramatically, then wrinkles his nose.
I smell... nothing. Oh wait—no, I smell diluted bloodline and desperateity."
Laughter breaks out all around us.
My face burns."That's not—" Maybe your wolf isn’t so pitiful and you actually have a scent worth reading," Garrett sneered now louder as he eyed the crowd.
More laughter.
My fingers are curling into fists. My throat clamps.
Professor Thorne is on the other end of the room, with a different couple. She doesn’t hear.
Garrett moves in, his voice now a cruel whisper. "You don't belong here. Everyone knows it. Even your wolf knows it — that's why she won't come out. She's ashamed.”
The words strike like a physical blow.
I am about to do something stupid—cry, run, maybe both—when a calm voice cuts through.
“I’ll switch with you.”
Everyone turns.
Rowan Moonfall stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, expression gentle but firm.
Garrett immediately straightens up. “Oh—uh, Rowan. I didn’t—”
“Switch,” Rowan repeats, not unkindly, but with enough quiet authority that Garrett doesn’t argue.
He mutters a bit under his breath and briskly walks away.
Rowan takes his place, offering me a small, reassuring smile.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod, though I'm not.
“Let’s try this again,” he said. “And tell everyone else to get lost. Don’t mind the others. Just watch me. His voice was so calm, so gentle, that a small part of the tightness in my chest loosened.
We're starting the workout.
Rowan expresses its emotions clearly- happiness (warm like honey), sadness (cool like rain), fear (sharp, fleeting). I can pick each one out easily because he makes it simple, shifting his scent so I can read it.
And when I go, I am afraid I am going to mess up again.
But Rowan is patient.
"Don't push it," he murmurs. "Let your wolf come up naturally. I'm not here to judge."
I shut my eyes and inhale.
My wolf awakens slowly and doubtfully.
Not much. Just enough. My scent changes—slightly floral, anxious, but there.
Rowan inhales gently. "Anxiety," he says. "But also... hope."
I am surprised to open my eyes. "Hope?"
He smiles. "Yeah. You're scared, but you're still trying. That's hope."
Something warm unfolds in my chest.
No one's ever described my feelings like that before.
Like they're worth noticing. Themselves
Around us, I am aware that vaguely everyone are staring. A whisper ripple through the room.
"Is that Rowan Moonfall?" Someone asked
"Why is he helping the hybrid?"
"He switched partners for her?"
I’m exhausted by the end of class, but somehow also lighter.
I didn't die in a complete sense of failure.
And Rowan stood by me when nobody else might.
—------
As the students are leaving, I slowly pack up my things, trying to keep from drawing more eyes than is necessary.
But I never even got far.
I never get past the moment I step into the corridor, when someone is standing in my way.
Lydia.
She is flanked by her two constant shadows—dina and beretta. The two girls glare at me as if I am whatever they found on their shoes.
"Well, well," Lydia purrs, arms folded. "That was quite a show in there."
I try to step around her. "I'm not doing that right now."
She moves to block me again. "Oh, I think you are."
Her smile was razor-sharp and dangerous. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Malia. Rowan Moonfall is not going to be touching you. All the Moonfalls are off-limits, actually.”
"I'm not—"
“I don’t care what you ‘were’ or ‘weren’t’ up to,” she snaps. Stay. Away .From. Them" she admonishes.
Dina giggles. "Yeah. They're so far out of your league, anyway."
Beretta adds, "You’re basically charity. Know your place.”
Anger, humiliation, and frustration clench tightly in my face.
Some familiar voices pinged me before I could speak.
“Back off, Lydia.”
July is on my left, arms crossed, eyes fierce. “Now let me know, first of all: are ya gonna take my advice?”
Freddy materializes to my right, grinning but that carefree edge against it. “Yeah. Three-on-one isn’t a fair fight. Do you want us to even the Odds?”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “This is no business of yours, Rivers.”
“It does if you’re pinning my friend in a corner,” July says flatly.
For a moment, the hallway crackles with tension.
Lydia looks between the three of us, calculating. Then she laughs—light, mocking.
“Fine. Keep your little hybrid pet, but don’t say I didn’t warn you."
She spins around in her heels, Dina and Beretta trailing behind like dogs ready to be called to attention. After they leave, I breathe out in a shaky manner.
“You okay?” July asks, as her hand rests on my arm lightly.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Freddy grins. “Anytime. That girl is exhausting. The two of us make the perfect sandwich.”
Together, we start walking towards the dorms and for the first time all day, I feel free. Outside, the moon rises slowly over Mooncrest College.
And in a corner of my mind my little shivering wolf is restlessly stirring.
Like she knows something I don't.