The scent of lavender and old parchment filled the sunroom where Selene Valeska sat, hands folded in her lap, spine perfectly straight. Outside, the manor gardens bloomed with spring violets, their petals trembling in the breeze. Inside, silence pulsed like a second heartbeat.
Her father sat across from her, silver hair gleaming like a crown. He didn't look at her when he spoke. He rarely did.
"You'll marry Alpha Lorcan next month."
The words dropped like iron.
Selene blinked. "That's... sudden."
"He's powerful. His pack controls the eastern border. The union will secure peace."
Peace. What a beautiful lie.
Lorcan was a butcher in a tailored coat — a man who'd been twice widowed under mysterious circumstances. Selene had met him once. He hadn't looked at her face. Only at her throat, as if measuring it for a collar.
Her mother placed a cool hand over hers. "He has no heir. You'd be Luna."
A gilded cage is still a cage.
Selene stood abruptly. "And what if I say no?"
Silence. Her father's gaze finally rose. "Then you'll leave me no choice but to confine you until the ceremony."
Her wolf bristled beneath her skin, but she swallowed the snarl.
Later, she climbed the attic stairs to the old nursery. Dust coated forgotten toys and faded books. This was the only place in the manor that still felt like hers.
She pulled back a loose floorboard. A bundle lay hidden beneath it — letters, a broken compass, a tattered flyer for the Ironfang Alpha Academy. Her brother, Silas, had left it all behind before vanishing into the border wars five years ago.
He had written in a clumsy scrawl:
If you ever need to run, Selene, run smart. Disappear. Disguise.
She touched the crest on the flyer. A silver wolf, poised to strike.
No women were allowed at Ironfang. Only Alphas and future enforcers trained there — brutal, elite, and relentless. The perfect hiding place.
If she could steal a boy's name, borrow a uniform, and mask her scent, she might survive there. Long enough to outlast the marriage deadline. Maybe long enough to start over.
That night, she packed quietly.
From the library: her forged identity papers.
From the armory: wolfsbane oil to numb her scent.
From the family crypt: her brother's old uniform, frayed but clean.
At midnight, Iris met her by the old gardener's gate.
"You're insane," her best friend whispered, eyes wide. "This isn't a game, Selene. You'll be surrounded by real Alphas. They'll scent you in a second if the wolfsbane wears off."
"I won't let it wear off."
"You don't have a plan past enrollment—"
"I have one plan." Her voice was steel. "Disappear. Survive."
Iris searched her face. Then, with a defeated breath, she handed over a satchel. "Food, coin, and a blade. Don't die, okay?"
Selene managed a crooked smile. "I'll write you... once I have a name that's mine."
She didn't look back when she walked away.
Hours later, her boots scraped the train platform. The sun was rising, a blood-orange glow painting the sky like fire across the horizon. The academy train hissed as it arrived — a serpent made of iron and steam.
Selene Valeska — now Silas Dusk — stepped aboard.
She had no idea what waited for her inside the walls of Ironfang. Only that anything — pain, danger, violence — was better than being owned by a man like Lorcan.
She took the window seat, watching as the trees blurred past.
Freedom had a price.
She was finally ready to pay it.