Chapter 2: Behind the Mask

Ella’s POV

The road seemed endless.

Every jolt of the carriage rattled my bones, and every turn of the wheels carried me farther from the life I knew and deeper into a future that didn’t belong to me. I tried to focus on the pattern carved into the seat across from me, anything but the hollow ache growing in my chest.

Through the window, the forest thinned. Sunlight bled through tall trees, and with it, the first glimpse of what lay ahead, iron gates taller than houses, their black metal curling into sharp spears. Guards flanked them, their armor gleaming, their scents sharp with dominance.

The carriage slowed.

My stomach lurched. I pressed my hands together so tightly my knuckles burned. Turn back, a desperate voice inside me whispered. It’s not too late. But the gates creaked open, groaning like the maw of some great beast welcoming me in.

The driver’s voice came from outside, calm and unquestioning. “We’ve arrived, my lady.”

My lady. The words stung. I wasn’t a lady. I was Ella, the girl who scrubbed soot from the Alpha’s hearth, who stole scraps of bread when hunger gnawed too deep. But I had no choice now but to wear the name Lyra like ill-fitting armor.

The carriage rolled forward into a vast courtyard. My breath caught at the sight. Stone buildings rose high and proud, banners of ancient houses snapping in the wind. Wolves—students moved across the square in clusters, their voices filling the air with laughter, boasts, challenges. Their presence was overwhelming, their scents are fierce and commanding. They were everything I was not.

The door opened.

I hesitated, frozen on the edge of the seat. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. But Lyra’s face flashed in my mind—her cruel smirk, her warning. Don’t fail, Ella. Or it will be your skin, not mine, that burns.

With wooden legs, I stepped down.

Eyes turned. Conversations faltered. A ripple of attention spread through the courtyard, whispers buzzing like hornets.

“She’s here.”

“The Alpha’s daughter…”

“Lyra Darius.”

The name wrapped around me like chains.

A woman with silver hair and a sharp, severe face approached, bowing with crisp precision. Her scent told me she was a Beta—strong, but not suffocating. “Lady Darius,” she said. “Welcome to the academy. We’ve been expecting you.”

I forced my lips into a smile that felt brittle. “Thank you.”

She gestured for me to follow. I moved stiffly, keeping my chin high, mimicking Lyra’s regal arrogance, though inside my wolf whimpered and pressed itself small.

The woman led me through the towering halls, the air heavy with history and pride. Banners lined the stone walls, each one bearing symbols of packs more powerful than I could ever imagine. Every step echoed too loudly, as if announcing: Imposter. Pretender.

We entered a grand hall.

It was filled with rows of benches where students sat in clusters, their heads turning as I entered. The sunlight streaming through stained glass painted the stone floor in shards of crimson and gold. The weight of their gazes pressed on me, hot and suffocating.

“Sit wherever you please, Lady Darius,” the woman said, bowing before leaving me at the threshold.

My feet carried me forward, though each step felt stolen. I slid into an empty seat, spine stiff, hands clenched in my lap. Don’t look weak. Don’t look afraid. Be Lyra.

But I could feel their stares even when I kept my gaze lowered. Some curious, others assessing, and a few—sharp, hostile, like blades against my skin.

The doors at the front of the hall opened.

The air changed. A hush swept through the students like wind through leaves.

A man stepped inside.

Tall, broad-shouldered, every line of him carried authority like it was carved into his bones. His presence filled the hall, commanding without effort. His eyes—piercing silver-gray swept the room, and when they landed on each student, spines straightened, conversations died.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, edged with quiet steel. “I am Alpha Alexander Draven. You will call me Instructor or Alpha, depending on the lesson. I am not here to entertain you. I am here to make you stronger or to break you if you are weak.”

A shiver ran through me.

I had heard of him before—whispers in the servants’ quarters about the Alpha who lost everything, the warrior too ruthless to be ignored. Seeing him now was different. His presence was like a storm, and every instinct in me wanted to bow, to submit.

But I couldn’t. Lyra would never bow.

He began to pace, his voice filling the hall. “This academy is not a home. It is a forge. Fire and pressure will shape you into leaders, or it will shatter you into nothing.”

Students sat taller, pride burning in their eyes. My chest tightened. I will shatter, I thought. I was not made for fire.

Then his gaze found me.

It was only a second, but it pinned me like a blade to a wall. My breath caught. I felt stripped bare, as if those silver eyes could peel away the silks, the powdered face, the false name—and see the trembling omega beneath.

My heart thudded so loudly I feared the room could hear it.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

I dropped my gaze at once, heat flooding my cheeks. Don’t look at him. Don’t let him see.

“Strength,” Alex said, breaking the silence, “is not inherited. Bloodlines mean nothing if you are weak. Power must be claimed, tested, proven.”

The words stung. Bloodlines. I had none. Only dirt and servitude.

A low chuckle came from my right. I turned my head slightly to see a boy about my age leaning back lazily on the bench, smirking at me. His scent was sharp—Beta, confident and unyielding.

“So the great Lyra Darius has finally shown herself,” he murmured, loud enough for me to hear. “I was beginning to think you were just a story your father made up.”

Laughter rippled around us. My throat closed.

I forced myself to lift my chin, channeling Lyra’s voice though mine trembled inside. “Careful,” I said softly. “Stories have a way of outlasting the fools who mock them.”

The boy blinked, his smirk faltering. Around us, a few gasps rose, followed by nervous snickers. I didn’t dare look at Alex, but I felt his attention linger a moment longer before moving on.

The lecture continued, words blurring as I fought to keep my breathing steady. Every second was a battle. Every glance, every whisper, every heartbeat carried the risk of discovery.

And yet, when Alex’s voice rolled over the room, calm and commanding, I couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t

just speaking to the heirs of Alphas. He was speaking to me.

And that terrified me most of all.