Into the Wolf Den

"So, who’s the actual mom?" I press, matching Vexia’s brisk pace along the manicured campus path. The entire concept of an angry mistress simply abandoning a child out of pure spite leaves me utterly baffled.

Vexia halts and turns back to me, a deep, condescending sneer twisting her perfectly glossed lips. "The child," she emphasizes, making me fight the urge to roll my eyes, "has completely unknown parentage. Nobody knows where she came from. All we know is that she was adopted by the biggest, most powerful house on the entire campus. Even the inner circle doesn't know anything beyond that."

I let out a harsh snort. "And none of these powerful guys have their own girlfriends to take care of her?"

"They do," Vexia drawls lazily. "But that seemed inappropriate. Hence, expanding the search to the whole school." She stops walking completely, cocking her head as a perfectly arched blonde eyebrow flies up into her hairline in mockery. "Though, given your mother’s extensive childcare history, perhaps you would be a perfect fit for the nanny role."

My jaw clenches tightly. "Alaric didn’t pay my exorbitant tuition just for me to become a glorified babysitter," I snap back violently.

Undeterred by my sudden flare of anger, Vexia merely waves a manicured hand. "Suit yourself. As lovely as this has been, my own interview for the caretaker position is coming up. Ta-ta."

Without even a second glance, she turns on her heel and marches off to join the massive gaggle of hysterical, desperate women actively fighting for the role on the lawn.

I watch her go in sheer disbelief. Dismissing this school’s completely deranged obsession with a random infant, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I need to scope out the training facilities and officially start my warrior path. Turning my back on the pathetic display near the pyramid, I head directly for a massive building labeled the Martial Center.

I march up to the heavy double doors, grabbing the handle, only to find it utterly unyielding. To my intense frustration, a blinking red light on an unforgiving electronic card reader mocks my attempt to enter. Locked out.

Grumbling a curse, I turn around sharply to head back to the student center, only for my face to collide hard with a solid, hulking wall of muscle.

"Oof," I grunt, stumbling backward and rubbing my stinging nose.

"Careful," a deep, rumbling voice chuckles.

I snap my head up. Standing before me is a strikingly handsome man built like a damn mountain, possessing wavy brown hair and intense, glowing yellow eyes. He slowly rakes his heavy, judgmental gaze over my ratty, worn-out vintage tee, his lip curling ever so slightly.

"I haven't seen you around," he notes smoothly. "Freshman?"

"Yeah," I force out, crossing my arms defensively over my chest. "My assigned guide abandoned me without an ID. I'm trying to check out the combat facilities. Can you let me inside?"

The man snickers condescendingly, his golden eyes doing another slow, insulting sweep of my body. "You? In the combat facilities? Shouldn't someone of your low status be infinitely more interested in flirting with boys and building a little home somewhere rather than engaging in combat?"

I am completely over this school's archaic, sexist nonsense. "I have absolutely zero interest in flirting," I bite back viciously, glaring right into his glowing eyes. "I am strictly here to become a warrior."

He stares at me for a long, silent beat. His eyes scan my body once more, dripping with obvious disdain, before he casually lifts his arm and taps his wrist against the electronic reader. The doors click open.

We step inside the massive facility, the scent of sweat and iron hitting me instantly. He stops and casually holds out a massive hand. "Kavros."

I eye his outstretched palm but deliberately ignore it. "Vespera," I reply slowly.

The instant I speak my name, a sharp flash of recognition ignites in his golden eyes. He slowly retracts his hand, his posture shifting. "Vespera," he repeats. "I know that name."

Bracing my muscles and preparing for the inevitable fallout, I lift my chin. "I'm Alaric Thorne's stepdaughter."

Kavros's handsome face instantly hardens into a rigid, hostile line. The easy amusement vanishes, replaced by pure venom. "Oh. So I just let the infamous slum trash into my gym." He steps closer, towering over me, his voice dropping into a vicious sneer. "I hear the campus has a new baby. You should try applying for the mother role. I'm sure the nanny skills of your whore mother might be highly transferable. It's a far better use of your time."

The insult is the absolute last straw. Unadulterated rage explodes violently through my entire system, blinding me to logic or reason.

"Fuck you!" I spit with venom.

I step directly into his space, aggressively jabbing my index finger directly into his massive, rock-hard chest. "Where the hell do you get off speaking to me that way?!"

Kavros holds his large hands up in mock surrender, laughing deeply in his chest as I desperately try to shove his completely immovable frame. It's like trying to push a solid boulder.

"Everyone at this goddamn school is obsessed with that stupid fucking baby!" I yell, shoving my palms violently against his sternum again and again until he finally, surprisingly, takes a half-step backward. "My mother being a nanny does not mean I am one! Nor does it mean I should take care of some random brat!"

Our physical altercation escalates rapidly until we end up standing entirely nose to nose. My rapidly heaving breaths are actively pushing my chest right up against his. The physical friction sends a frantic, dangerous jolt through my system. Kavros stares down at me, the honey in his eyes instantly turning into a raging, terrifying fire.

Suddenly, with terrifying, blinding speed, his hands shoot out. He grabs both of my biceps in a vice-like grip, whips our bodies around, and violently pins me against the cold concrete wall.

"Let me go!" I scream, struggling frantically.

His massive, muscular leg slots aggressively between mine, pinning my lower half completely and rendering my legs utterly useless. I thrash against his hold, but his grip is pure iron, establishing a massive, insurmountable strength gap between us. He pulls me slightly forward, only to slam me back against the wall with enough brutal force to momentarily blur my vision. The back of my skull cracks against the stone.

"Listen to me," he roars, his face mere inches from mine, his hot breath fanning my cheeks. "You have picked the absolute wrong asshole to fuck with."

Before I can kick out, he snatches my right wrist. He brutally twists the bone and joint, wrenching my arm until my skin burns with agonizing, blinding pain. A whimper tears its way out of my throat.

Kavros glares down at me, his expression murderous. "This school isn't for little sluts like you looking to drain someone's money. If I ever see you in my gym again, I will physically tear you to shreds."

He doesn't wait for an answer. He finally drops my wildly aching wrist, turns on his heel, and storms off into the dark depths of the gym, his wide shoulders tense with fury.

Staggering forward to maintain my balance, I cradle my throbbing arm to my chest. I slowly step backward, letting the back of my head rest against the cold wall. My heart hammers violently against my ribs. I close my eyes in utter defeat, the silence of the empty entryway pressing heavily against me, leaving me wondering if leaving the slums was actually a terrible, catastrophic mistake.