The dining room of the Lin Pack House was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case, a heavy envelope sliding across mahogany.
Jax reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the red ink stamped at the bottom of the crumpled letter. He didn't need to touch it to feel the faint, humming vibration radiating from it. It was a spiritual signature—a mark of authority that couldn't be forged by anyone outside the Supreme Council.
"It's real," Jax whispered, his voice raspy with disbelief. He looked up at his father, Alpha Lin. "Dad, this is Elder Xu's personal seal. It still holds his Alpha Aura."
Alpha Lin sucked in a sharp breath. He looked at the girl standing by the door—Ren, with her cheap backpack and her bored expression—and felt a wave of vertigo. How could a useless Dormant from the Wildlands possess a favor from one of the most powerful wolves in the country?
"Impossible!"
The shriek came from Vera.
She lunged forward, snatching the letter from the table. She couldn't sense the aura like Jax could, but she saw the fear in her husband's eyes, and it made her furious. It made no sense. It broke her worldview.
"You stole this!" Vera screamed, turning on Ren, her face twisted with accusation. "You must have stolen it! Or maybe you bought a counterfeit in the Black Market! How could you know Elder Xu? You are nothing but a disgraceful dropout!"
Ren stopped in the doorway. She didn't turn around. She merely tilted her head to the side, revealing the sharp line of her jaw and a smile that was colder than the winter wind.
"Vera," Ren said softly, using her mother's first name instead of 'Mom'. "Is your vision really limited to the four walls of this dining room?"
"Don't you dare talk back to me!" Vera was shaking now. "Jax, call the school! Verify this! Don't let her walk out of here with a stolen document. If she gets caught at Wolven High with a fake, the Lin Pack will be the laughingstock of the city!"
Ren didn't wait to hear the rest. She adjusted her backpack strap and walked out into the morning light, leaving the chaos behind her.
Jax stared at the empty doorway, his mind racing. Stolen? No. An Elder's seal couldn't be stolen without triggering a blood curse. The seal was given willingly.
He looked at the empty space where his stepsister had stood. For the first time, he wondered if the "useless" label attached to her was a lie.
***
Wolven High Academy was more of a fortress than a school.
Located in the center of the city, it was the training ground for the next generation of Alphas and Betas. The architecture was imposing—gothic spires, iron gates, and the constant, heavy pressure of hundreds of young wolves testing their dominance against each other.
The Administrative Building sat at the highest point of the campus.
In the Principal's Office, the air conditioning was set to a chilling temperature.
Principal Xu—known to the underworld as Elder Xu—sat behind a massive oak desk. He was an old man with white hair and eyes like a hawk, sharp and predatory despite his age.
Ren sat on the leather sofa in the corner, her legs crossed, scrolling through her phone as if she were in a coffee shop, not the most intimidating office in the academy.
Standing in front of the desk were two teachers.
On the left was Mrs. Lee. She was a Beta female dressed in a sharp business suit, her hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. She radiated the scent of expensive perfume and disdain. She was the head teacher of the Alpha Stream (Class 1)—the elite program.
On the right was Mr. Gordon. He was a round, jovial Beta man with a slightly messy tie and a scent that smelled like old books and coffee. He ran the Delta Stream (Class 9)—the class for mixed-bloods, transfers, and those with weak bloodlines.
"I absolutely refuse," Mrs. Lee said, slapping Ren's file onto the desk. Her voice was shrill. "Principal, look at this record! Absenteeism, fighting, zero spiritual potential. My Alpha Stream is for future leaders. You want me to take in a Dormant? She is rotten meat that will spoil the whole broth!"
Mr. Gordon frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "Mrs. Lee, please watch your language. The student is right there."
Mrs. Lee sneered, glancing back at Ren. "Am I wrong? Look at her. She's from the Wildlands. She probably has fleas. She belongs in the vocational school next door, not polluting the air of Wolven High."
Ren didn't look up from her phone. She didn't flinch at the insult "rotten meat." It was as if Mrs. Lee was a buzzing fly—annoying, but insignificant.
Principal Xu sat silently, his fingers steepled. He watched Ren. He knew exactly who she was. He knew that the girl sitting on his sofa could probably hack into the school's defense grid in under thirty seconds or dismantle Mrs. Lee without breaking a sweat.
But he also knew Ren didn't want attention.
"If the Alpha Stream won't take her," Principal Xu said, his voice calm but commanding, "Gordon, do you have space in the Delta Stream?"
Mr. Gordon blinked, surprised. The Delta Stream was the "trash can" of the school, but he never treated his students like that. He picked up Ren's file, ignoring the red flags for violence.
He looked at Ren. "Ren, is it? We aren't the elite class, but we value hard work. If you're willing to learn, you're welcome in Class 9."
Ren finally looked up. She slid her phone into her pocket and stood up. The lazy slouch vanished for a split second, replaced by a natural, towering grace.
"It doesn't matter to me," she said flatly. She walked over to Mr. Gordon. "Lead the way."
Mrs. Lee let out a scoff of disbelief, gathering her files. "Suit yourself, Gordon. Keep collecting garbage. No wonder you've been a junior instructor for twenty years."
She turned on her heel and clicked out of the office, her nose high in the air.
***
Ren followed Mr. Gordon out to get her uniform.
As soon as the door closed, Principal Xu stood up. He walked over to a locked drawer in his desk and pulled out a key.
"Gordon!" Xu called out before the teacher could disappear down the hall. "A moment."
Mr. Gordon poked his head back in. "Principal?"
"I have something for you to look at."
Principal Xu pulled out a piece of paper. It wasn't a standard exam. It was old, crinkled, and stained with a dark, rusty substance that looked suspiciously like dried blood.
Mr. Gordon walked back in, confused. "What is this?"
"This," Xu said, smoothing out the paper, "is a Tactical Analysis of the Northern Border Defense Breach from last year. It was an unsolved simulation used by the Military Academy."
Mr. Gordon adjusted his glasses. He looked at the paper.
It was covered in handwriting that was wild and chaotic, yet possessed a strange, aggressive beauty. The ink strokes were bold, cutting across the page like sword slashes.
Mr. Gordon read the first paragraph. His eyes widened.
He read the second paragraph. His mouth opened slightly.
By the time he finished reading the breakdown of the enemy's formation and the proposed counter-attack, his hands were shaking.
"This..." Mr. Gordon stammered. "This isn't just a solution. This is a massacre. The strategy here... it predicts the enemy's movement three steps in advance. It utilizes terrain and psychological warfare perfectly."
He looked up at the Principal, his face pale. "Who wrote this? An Alpha General? A military strategist?"
Principal Xu smiled. It was a fox-like smile.
"It was written by a nineteen-year-old," Xu said softly. "A nineteen-year-old who was bored."
"Is... is this student coming to our school?" Mr. Gordon asked, breathless. "If we have a genius like this, even if their bloodline is weak, they could be a commander!"
Principal Xu took the paper back, folding it carefully as if it were a sacred text. He looked at the empty doorway where Ren had just exited.
"Just treat your new student well, Gordon," the old Principal said, his eyes twinkling with a secret. "You might find that your 'garbage class' is hiding a dragon among snakes."
Mr. Gordon stood there, stunned. He looked at the door, then back at the Principal. A thought began to form in his head—a crazy, impossible thought—but he pushed it away.
The girl from the Wildlands? Impossible.
But as he walked down the hall to catch up with Ren, he couldn't shake the image of that bold, aggressive handwriting.