#4: Do Not Disappoint Us

“You,” I say faintly, pointing a shaky finger toward the stranger who not only saved me from falling off a cliff but also somehow knows my name, “are going to need to explain literally everything.”

He guides me over to a flat, moss-covered boulder a few feet from the drop, and I drop onto it without a single word of protest and look up at him.

“I’m Victor,” he says.

“Leia,” I deadpan. “Apparently.”

“I know.”

“Yes, that’s actually the part terrifying me.” My hand instinctively wraps around the cold necklace resting at my throat. “How do you know my name?”

The man offers a slow, entirely unbothered smile. “My name is Victor. And as for how I know you… let’s just say it’s my job to know the interesting ones. You’re eighteen years old. You’re a shifter who possesses absolutely no ability to shapeshift. You were publicly humiliated and rejected by the Silvercrest Pack exactly twenty-four hours ago, and right now, you’re running out of options.”

I stiffen, my guard slamming instantly into place. “Are you a stalker, or did Alpha Thorne hire an exceptionally well-dressed bounty hunter to make sure I actually crossed the border?” I look toward the dark tree line. “Or let me guess. You’re a Reaper with a very sophisticated disguise technique.”

Victor lets out a genuine, booming laugh that echoes off the rock face. “A Reaper? Please. Do I look like I survive on raw salmon and have the intellectual capacity of a brick?”

He steps closer, extending his right hand toward me, palm up. His skin darkens, bones shifting and lengthening with a series of muffled, wet clicks until a massive, jet-black wolf paw replaces his fingers, complete with thick, curved talons. A beat later, the bones snap back into place, leaving his human hand perfectly intact.

“I’m a wolf. Just not the kind of wolf you’re used to,” he says, holding out a hand to help me up from the boulder.

I look at his hand. “And why should I trust a man who commands darkness?”

“Because the alternative is staying right here,” Victor says, his voice dropping into a flat, realistic register. “And I can assure you, the Reaper patrols are not particularly gentle when they find a female wolf wandering the border alone.”

I swallow the remainder of my pride, take his hand, and pull myself upright. “Lead the way, shadow boss. But if this turns into a human sacrifice situation, I’m going to be incredibly annoying about it.”

~

“Welcome,” Victor says as we approach a set of massive, wrought-iron gates that open silently on their own, “to the Eclipse Alpha Academy.”

“It looks more like a palace for a gothic monarch than a school for freaks,” I say as the gates close behind us with a soft, solid click.

“The Master prefers a certain standard of presentation,” Victor says, laughing as he leads me up the grand stone steps toward the castle’s main entrance.

We turn a corner, and the sound of a heated argument filters through a heavy, brass-handled door at the end of the hall.

“They’re fucking soft, Claire!” a gruff, intensely volatile male voice roars from inside the room. “The new batch can barely hold a basic focal point without vomiting, and you expect me to waste my time teaching them tactical theory? I was brought to this academy to break the northern lines, not to act as a nanny for a bunch of weeping outcasts!”

“Their emotional states are temporary, Damon,” a smooth female voice counters, her tone perfectly calm despite his shouting. “Their potential is permanent. Your unparalleled skills in shifting and dark magic are the exact reason you are running the training fields. Teach them to weaponize their rage and I promise you, you will see all the frontline action you can stomach before the spring thaw.”

“They’re a waste of resources and time,” the male voice growls.

Before the woman can respond, the heavy door bursts open with a violent shudder, slamming against the interior wall.

A young man storms out into the corridor, his chest heaving with residual fury. He's tall and powerfully built, wearing black heavy leathers that match the absolute darkness of his mood. He has a crescent-shaped scar that cuts across his left cheek giving him a dangerous, lethal look.

He stops short when he sees Victor and me standing in the hall. His green eyes narrow, his gaze raking down my body with an intensity that feels like a physical inspection.

“Move,” he growls, shoving past us so closely his leather sleeve brushes my arm, his scent lingering in the air as he storms down the gallery.

“Charming,” I mutter, looking after him.

“That’s Damon,” Victor says. “Our head combat trainer. Try not to aggravate him before seven tomorrow morning. Come, the Mistress is waiting.”

He nudges me through the open doorway into a massive, elegant office.

Standing behind a large mahogany desk is a tall, remarkably beautiful blonde woman dressed in a sleek green gown. As she turns to face us, my breath catches in my throat. Her eyes are completely black – no whites, no irises, just two solid, liquid voids that look entirely demonic.

I freeze, my survival instincts screaming at me to run, but Victor places a steadying hand on my lower back, guiding me forward.

“Claire,” Victor says warmly, stepping past me to plant a quick, familiar kiss on her cheek. “I brought the latest investment from the coast.”

The woman smiles, the terrifying effect of her black eyes softening instantly into something genuinely warm and welcoming.

She steps around the desk. “Leia Thornwood. We’ve been anticipating your arrival. I’m Claire Lester, Mistress of the Academy.”

“Mistress,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Nice place you have here. Love the dark magic aesthetic. Very retro.”

Claire lets out a soft, melodic laugh. “Victor told me you possessed a sharp tongue. It will serve you well here. As a Wolf Witch, you will be trained to harness the very darkness that your former pack fears and learn to use dark magic to become an elite protector of our kind.” She stops, her expression turning cool and businesslike. “But do not get too comfortable. The training is brutal, the mortality rate is a reality we do not hide, and your first session begins tomorrow morning at precisely seven.”

“Wait, tomorrow?” I frown, crossing my arms. “I just tumbled off a cliff, discovered a hidden magical fortress, and got insulted by a man with a facial scar. Don’t I get an orientation week? A tour of the facilities? Um… a freaking nap?”

“We’re at war, Leia,” Claire says, her black eyes locking onto mine with an unyielding intensity. “We don’t have time for adjustments. Before you can sleep in a tower bed, however, we must complete the binding. It’s what grants you access to the academy’s ancestral power, and it ensures your immortality within these boundaries. But it comes with a condition: once the magic accepts your blood, you cannot leave these grounds until the magic itself allows it. Do you accept?”

I look at Victor, who offers a solemn, silent nod. I look back at Claire. I have no home, no pack, and a Reaper-infested forest waiting for me outside those wrought-iron gates.

I nod quietly.

Claire smiles, reaching onto her desk to pick up a beautiful silver dagger with a black handle and extends it to me. I take the cold metal, hoping I’m not making a huge mistake as I raise my left hand.

“Repeat the words,” Claire instructs. “In the dark or light, I pledge my soul to the great soul of the wolves. I pledge my life to serve the magic.”

I repeat the words, my voice clear and steady in the quiet office, then draw the silver blade across my palm. The sting comes and a line of dark red blood wells in the cut. I tilt my hand, letting three drops fall into the open air between us. Before the blood can hit the floorboards, it freezes midair, flashing with a sudden, brilliant violet light before vanishing into nothingness. A strange, humming energy vibrates through my veins, a sudden, heavy warmth settling deep into my bones.

The binding is sealed.

Victor steps forward, handing me a clean white linen cloth, which I wrap tightly around my bleeding hand. “Nicely done, Wolf Witch.”

“Welcome officially to Eclipse Alpha,” Claire says, stepping back behind her desk. “Do not disappoint us. Failure here is a permanent state.”