Mate to the Savage Prince

Alyssa

The gates of Obsidian Moon Academy didn’t just separate the school from the outside world; they felt like a border between realities. The stone towers clawed at the gray sky, and the air itself felt heavy, thick with power and judgment. I clutched the strap of my worn duffel bag, my knuckles white.

A roar of an engine ripped through the oppressive quiet. A flash of silver metal. I froze as a luxury sports car screeched to a halt, its bumper mere inches from my knees.

The tinted window slid down with a soft hum, revealing a girl with hair the color of spun gold and eyes as cold as a winter morning. She looked me up and down, a sneer twisting her perfect lips.

"Watch where you're going," she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"I was standing still," I replied, my voice quieter than I intended. "You almost hit me."

She laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. "And? My car is worth more than your entire bloodline. You should be honored it even noticed you."

I gritted my teeth. "An apology would have been enough."

"An apology?" She leaned her head out the window, sniffing the air theatrically. "To you? What is that scent? It’s pathetic. Like rainwater and dust. You barely even register as a wolf. Did your parents find you in a ditch?"

My face burned with shame. She wasn't wrong. My scent had always been weak, muted. A sign of the secret I carried.

"Move, stray," she commanded, revving the engine. "You're dirtying up the view."

I stepped back onto the curb, my heart hammering against my ribs. The car peeled away, leaving the smell of burnt rubber and expensive perfume in its wake. Welcome to Obsidian Moon.

Finding my dorm room felt like navigating a maze designed by a sadist. Every student I passed sized me up, their gazes lingering just long enough to make me feel like an insect under a microscope.

Room 21B. I pushed the heavy oak door open, my hand trembling slightly.

The room was split in two. One side was a disaster of black lace, expensive-looking clothes, and shattered perfume bottles. The other side was a riot of color, with a rainbow quilt on the bed and posters of smiling bands on the wall.

A girl with bright pink hair and a dozen silver earrings popped up from behind a stack of books.

"Hi! You must be Alyssa. I'm Milla. Thank the Moon Goddess you're not another Phoebe."

I blinked. "Phoebe?"

"Yeah, our other roommate." Milla gestured vaguely to the chaotic side of the room. "Tall, blonde, looks like she'd kill a puppy for a new pair of shoes?"

My stomach dropped. "I think I just met her. She almost ran me over."

Milla snapped her fingers. "Sounds about right. That's her signature move. It's how she says hello."

"She said my scent was weak."

Milla winced, her cheerful expression faltering for a second. "Okay, that's her saying she hates you. Don't worry about her. Just stay out of her way. And definitely stay out of his way."

"His way?" I asked, dropping my bag by the empty bed.

"The Ice Prince himself," Milla said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Prince Evan Anders."

She said the name like it was a curse.

"Prince? Like, an actual prince?"

"The one and only. Heir to the entire werewolf throne. And Phoebe's very recent, very angry ex-boyfriend."

That explained the hostility. "So she's mad about the breakup?"

"Mad is an understatement," Milla scoffed. "She’s a walking hurricane. But she's nothing compared to him. Seriously, Alyssa. You need to be careful. This place has a pecking order, and it's brutal."

"My father warned me."

"Forget what he warned you about," Milla said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Here, there's only one group that matters: The Royals. Evan is their Prince. His best friend Liam is his Beta. And Phoebe was his chosen princess until he kicked her to the curb last summer."

"Why did he break up with her?"

"No one knows for sure. The rumor is she wasn't strong enough. He's not looking for a decorative queen. He's looking for a weapon. A warrior. Someone as ruthless and powerful as he is. And Phoebe, for all her attitude, is just a bully. Not a killer."

I swallowed hard. "He sounds… intense."

"Terrifying is the word you're looking for," Milla corrected. "His father is King Theron Anders, and he makes Evan look like a cuddly teddy bear. The King believes in one thing: culling the weak. Evan lives and breathes that same philosophy."

"What does that mean, culling the weak?"

"It means if you can't keep up, they will crush you and throw you out. Or worse. This Academy isn't just for learning. It's a trial. A testing ground to see who is worthy of being part of the new kingdom he wants to build."

I sank onto my thin mattress, the springs groaning in protest. "So what do we do?"

"We keep our heads down," Milla said firmly. "We survive. Especially students like us. We're not from the big, legendary Alpha bloodlines. We're just trying to make it to graduation without getting eaten alive."

"Great."

"Hey," Milla said, her bright smile returning. "It's not all bad. We have each other. And the food in the dining hall is surprisingly decent. Just avoid the fish stew on Thursdays."

I couldn't help but smile back, a tiny bit of the tension in my shoulders easing. "Good to know. Thanks, Milla."

"Anytime. Us strays have to stick together, right?"

She didn't mean it to hurt, but the word sent a fresh pang through my chest. That's what I was. A stray. A wolf who couldn't shift. A lamb pretending she belonged in a den of lions.

"I'm gonna go grab us some snacks from the vending machine before the welcome assembly," Milla announced, hopping off her bed. "Want anything?"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you."

"Be right back. Don't let Phoebe's bad vibes possess the room while I'm gone!"

She zipped out the door, leaving me alone in the sudden silence. I walked over to the large, gothic window and looked out across the campus.

Students moved across the manicured lawns in their respective packs, radiating confidence and power. They were everything I wasn't.

My gaze drifted past the main buildings, towards the dark, ancient woods that bordered the Academy grounds. A strange sensation prickled my skin. It was a pull. A low, humming energy that seemed to emanate from the deepest, most shadowed part of the forest. It wasn’t frightening. It felt like a magnet, tugging at something dormant deep inside me. It felt like a whisper of a promise, or maybe, a warning.