The next morning arrived in chaos. A gray, overcast sky sagged over Oakridge High, mirroring the uneasy static that buzzed through the courtyard. The moment Aarvin passed through the rust‑stained gate, he felt dozens of eyes tracking him. Students huddled in tight circles, their whispers slicing through the cold morning air.
"Liam still didn't show up?"
"Zane talked to Riyan's brother yesterday."
"I'm telling you—something big is brewing."
"What if the Wolves go after the Hales?"
Each rumor struck Aarvin like a stone to the chest. His stomach twisted. He didn't want wars. He didn't want titles. He didn't want anyone fighting for him. All he wanted was to hide in a corner of the library, revise for his chemistry test, and survive the day quietly. But Oakridge didn't care what he wanted. Rumors here didn't stay rumors—they became reality.
The Summons
Second period dragged like a slow bleed—chalk dust floating in the stale air, nerves crackling beneath every whispered breath. Just as Mr. Patel turned to the board, the classroom door creaked open. Zane Lockhart walked in. He didn't speak. He didn't glare. He simply _existed_—and the room bowed to his presence. Silence rippled across every desk. Even the clock seemed to hold its breath. Zane's eyes swept the class once, then locked onto Aarvin. Aarvin felt his heartbeat shift into his throat.
Zane walked straight to the last row, placed a hand on Aarvin's desk, and said calmly, "You're coming with me."
Aarvin's voice barely rose above a whisper. "I—I didn't do anything."
Zane leaned in, so close that Aarvin could feel the cool breath against his ear. "Exactly. That's why I want to talk."
A thin, nervous laugh escaped a few students, but it died instantly. Aarvin stood slowly, legs unsteady, but before he stepped away, a soft hand grabbed his sleeve. Elena. Her eyes were wide, trembling.
"Don't go," she whispered. "Please."
Zane's gaze flicked to her—curious, amused. "You're Elena Cross, right?" A faint smile touched his lips. "Relax. He'll be back."
She didn't look reassured. Aarvin didn't feel it either. But the weight of the room pushed him forward.
Inside the Wolves' Den
Zane led him down a narrow hallway that smelled of disinfectant and old gym socks, away from the cafeteria's chaos and toward the forbidden corridor behind the gym—an area students avoided unless they wanted trouble. Three Wolves were already waiting. A silent semi‑circle. A trap without bars.
Aarvin stopped, pulse racing. Zane leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, posture deceptively relaxed.
"Let's clear things up," Zane said quietly. "I don't care about your brother. I don't care about the Hale name." He stepped closer—one step, then another—until Aarvin could see the faint scar near his jawline. "But anyone who can drop Liam… even by accident… is someone I keep my eyes on."
Aarvin shook his head quickly. "I'm not joining anything. Please—I don't want problems."
Zane's smirk flickered, unreadable. "That's exactly why you're interesting."
One of the Wolves—a tall boy with a scar slicing down his cheek—added, "You're not like Riyan. That's good."
Aarvin couldn't tell if it was praise or a warning. Zane continued, voice softer, almost conspiratorial. "We're not asking you to fight. We're asking you to think. People are watching you now."
Aarvin exhaled shakily. "I didn't choose any of this."
"No one does," Zane murmured, eyes briefly distant. "Not in Oakridge."
Then, suddenly, his expression sharpened. "If anyone touches you again… they won't be dealing with Riyan."
Aarvin's breath hitched. Zane's eyes hardened into steel. "They'll be dealing with me."
The line hung in the air—protection or threat, Aarvin couldn't tell. Maybe it was both. The Wolves stepped away, dissolving into the shadows of the corridor. Zane vanished with them, the echo of his footsteps lingering long after he left.
Standing at the Edge of Something New
The moment they were gone, the hallway felt too big and too small at the same time. The hum of the ventilation system seemed louder, like the school itself was holding its breath. Aarvin touched the key hidden in his pocket—heavy, cold, unexplained. He felt the folded note from Elena. He heard Riyan's warning in the back of his mind.
Outside, the late‑morning sun cast long, fractured shadows across the courtyard. Leaves rustled gently beneath the lone oak tree, as if urging him toward a decision he never asked to make. And in that moment, a truth settled over him: He was no longer just Riyan Hale's younger brother. He was now entangled with the Iron Wolves. Whether he liked it or not, their world had pulled him in.
A storm was forming—slow, dark, inevitable. A storm that would one day tear his life apart.
Aarvin took a shaky breath, steadied himself, and stepped back into the hallway. His footsteps echoed like a promise.
__He would face whatever came next—fear in his chest, fire in his veins.__
_To be continued…_