Chapter 3 IN My ENEMY'S HANDS

CHAPTER THREE | IN THE ENEMY'S HANDS

ASPEN

What twisted games was the moon goddess playing.

I did not want to believe this was my fate. The moon goddess could not possibly be cruel enough to mate me to someone who murdered my first mate.

“Have you suddenly gone dumb, mutt? You had a lot to say about me earlier. You and your slut—”

His words cut off when his eyes met mine. He held my gaze, emotions swimming across his face. His hands gripped his seat tightly, restraining any reaction.

I froze, watching his every move. My breath was shallow, afraid that if I breathed too much something would happen.

“Mind your fucking business.” He turned, spared me one last glance, then never looked back.

Only then did I let out the breath I had been holding, but my heart still hammered. My fingers shook as I grasped the nearest thing I could find, wishing this was a joke, a terrible nightmare.

When the announcements came, reality slammed back in. “Welcome, everyone, to Ever West Academy. We have a list of rules, and you will be given a handbook with them all. This training is approved by the Werewolf Council for Alphas. Put in your best and work hard to pass. If you have any questions, you can direct them to Mr Jones, the principal. Thank you.”

Large vintage gates opened after the announcement, and we filed out of the bus like prisoners on a death march. I watched the gate seal shut behind us, cutting off any connection to the outside world.

Mr Jones, a bald man with a nasty scowl, stepped forward. He welcomed us and then dropped the line that made my lungs stall. “Welcome to Ever West Academy. Anyone found impersonating will be killed instantly. There is a reward for anyone who performs exceptionally at the end of the semester.”

The boy who had sat beside me raised his hand. All eyes turned to him and he shuffled on his feet. “What happens when you fail?” he asked, and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

I tried to stay still. The moment my secret came out I would be better off dead. I had planned to guard my lie with my life. But the principal’s next words made me feel cold all over.

“If you fail the three month course, you will be executed at the final ceremony.”

Silence dropped over us like a stone. Faces went pale. Dizziness hit me as the realization set in: escaping death might be impossible. Even if I hid my true self, I could not pass the training. I had no Alpha strength. I was doomed.

“Everyone has been assigned rooms according to your history,” Mr Jones continued. “As you know, some students have dangerous, untameable wolves. They will be housed separately. We have three tiers: green for well behaved students, yellow for the better ones, and red for the worst of the worst.”

I dug into the bag Devenity had left me before she left for the Golden Dragon Pack, frantically searching for the fake ID she promised would be inside. When I pulled my arm back and felt nothing but trash, panic hit me.

I emptied the contents of the bag onto the floor, heart in my throat. The world blurred when I came up empty handed. I had thought I would have time to figure things out, but without my ID I was finished.

Rough hands grabbed my neck and yanked me up like I weighed nothing. I struggled as the world lifted off my feet. The hands tightened into a chokehold and my lungs burned.

I clawed at the hands, tears springing to my eyes. “Let me go,” I gasped, managing to stagger, but he held me tighter.

The commotion drew Mr Jones. “What are you doing, Ryker? You cannot go around assaulting students without my permission.”

Ryker sneered and pulled me impossibly close, our faces inches apart. “He is an imposter,” he spat.

My body went rigid. He knows.

“And what makes you sure he is an imposter?” Mr Jones asked.

“He has been fidgeting since he walked in,” Ryker said. “He is pale, skinny, and shaky. I suspected it, but I confirmed it when he could not produce his ID. Only junk.” He jabbed a finger at the scattered pieces of paper on the ground.

“Provide your ID as proof, boy. If you cannot, you will be killed instantly,” the principal ordered.

I kicked at the giant man holding me, trying to force him to let go. I could not breathe and was about to pass out. The more I clawed, the harsher his grip became.

“Wait,” Mr Jones said, and the hold loosened enough for me to draw a breath.

Ryker threw me to the ground. I scrambled away, frantically collecting whatever I could from the bag.

Relief fluttered in my chest, but it was short lived.

“We cannot kill him yet,” Mr Jones said. “We need to find out if he is a spy. We will torture him for information, then dispose of him. Take him to the dungeons.”

I looked around, desperate for help, but in my panic to find the fake ID I had fallen behind the others and I was alone. That likely made them suspect me faster.

My mouth opened for a plea, but I bit my tongue. Begging would only seal my fate.

“Alex Smith?” a voice called. The three of us at the entrance looked up. “Why are you still here?”

It was Ronan Cross, my second chance mate. He stood with his head lifted, eyes on me. Familiarity swam in them and a shiver ran down my spine—not from fear, but something else.

Desire? Maybe. But I had to kill any feeling like that before it grew. If Ronan had anything to do with Adrian’s death, I would not hesitate to plunge a knife into him.

“I looked all over for you, Alex. You scared me,” Ronan said, ignoring Mr Jones and Ryker as if they were not there. He reached down and helped me to my feet.

They exchanged a look, surprised.

Mr Jones cleared his throat. “You know him?”

“Of course,” Ronan said. “He is my friend. We realized we would be roommates on the bus, since we were both stamped red. We bonded. He is my bro.” He laughed and slapped my shoulder in a way that felt far from friendly.

My tongue tied itself in shock as the scene unfolded. Why was he helping me?

Ronan reached into his pocket and produced a school ID with the red stamp. “He left it with me,” he said. “I came to return it. I had no idea he would get in trouble. You should know how many students you admitted and stop harassing them over small things. The Werewolf Council would not be pleased if word got out.” His voice dropped and went dangerous.

Apologies spilled from Mr Jones and Ryker. Ronan waved them off and motioned for me to follow. I complied, still shaken.

He said nothing on the walk to the dorm, but the moment we walked inside and the door closed, he had me pinned ag

ainst the wall, a dagger pressed to my throat.

“Who the fuck are you, mate?” he hissed.