The Alpha's Fatal Weakness

The Alpha's Fatal Weakness

Grace Lawal · Ongoing · 33.0k Words

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Introduction

Reina Clementine never should have been admitted into Silverthorne Academy.

Born with an unknown curse in a world ruled by supernatural bloodlines, she is an anomaly no one can explain or ignore.

Especially Lucian Draven.

The heir to the strongest bloodline in existence is untouchable… until her presence shatters something inside him.

Now every rule in the academy begins to bend around them.

Everything points back to her origin.

And every time they cross paths, the danger, and growing bond between them gets harder to deny.

Chapter 1

Reina’s POV

The invitation letter was unexpected. It smelled like smoke and a few other things I couldn't place my finger on.

The moment I opened the black envelope, my tiny room filled with mist and a booming voice announced:

“Congratulations. You have been selected for admission into Silverthorne Academy.”

Then it exploded in my face.

So I would say that my first impression of the most prestigious supernatural school in the country wasn't exactly positive.

A few weeks later, I found myself in front of iron gates twice the height of any building I'd ever seen. It was carved with different creatures I was sure didn't exist–and if they did, we should just leave the earth for them. But where this was the supernatural world, anything was possible.

Students poured through the entrance in sleek cars and uniforms, and more confidence than I'd ever had in my life.

I stood holding one suitcase with a broken wheel, willing to disappear at that moment.

I wore a secondhand coat, boots and I knew no matter how much I styled my hair, it couldn't hide the obvious difference between me and them.

I let out a breath.

Then I walked through the gates, praying for confidence to power through.

A blonde girl walking past me wrinkled her nose.

“Why does it smell human out here?”

I smiled sweetly.

“Why does it smell like a bitch out here?”

She gasped like I’d stabbed her.

I held down my smile.

I was being too audacious and it'd definitely get me in trouble soon. After all, I did have a history of being bullied.

I shook my head as I dragged my suitcase through the gates and into the massive courtyard, pretending I wasn’t impressed by what I saw.

Silverthorne looked less like a school and more like a castle. I knew it was expensive as hell. I honestly didn't remember even applying for a scholarship here, or how I even got accepted. What were even the criterias?

I wasn't able to walk any further because I was stopped by an ominous figure dressed in black.

“Reina Clementine," the figure coldly said. “I am Ash Mi, in charge of the dorms. Let me take your luggage to your room."

I paused, glancing around.

Then I was shown a badge. It was unclear, but it looked legit.

I hesitated some more, but then did as I was told. I hoped I wasn't being deceived and I wouldn't be searching for my only property later.

I looked at them as they walked away.

I couldn't see the person's face. It was like they were a ghost. I couldn't see a shadow, or hear their movement on the marble floor.

It was getting darker. The nighttime when every supernatural can commemorate. I just hoped I wouldn't be noticed.

I wasn't even able to take much in when I heard loud speakers from the building up ahead.

Students crossed marble walkways in clusters, each group somehow more attractive than the last.

Werewolves with broad shoulders and predatory grins.

Witches dressed like models.

Vampires who looked just like certain books portrayed them. Deathly pale, but beautiful.

And there was me.

I checked the paper in my hand.

WELCOME CEREMONY. GRAND HALL.

Great. I should've known I wouldn't be able to resume such a school without all the theatrics. This was a prestigious school for christsake!

I moved forward, careful not to be noticed.

Inside, the beautifully decorated hall accommodated hundreds of students filling the rows below as noise thundered through the room.

I slipped into an empty seat near the back.

A boy beside me glanced at my badge and frowned.

“Scholarship?”

I held back an instinctual snark and just replied. “Yes.”

He ended up being surprisingly friendly. “Hm. I'm Kan. I'm new too."

"Reina,” I replied. “Nice to meet you."

The lights suddenly dimmed, the bright light on the stage.

A woman in silver robes stepped onto the large stage.

“My name is Headmistress Celine Caster. Welcome,” she said, her booming voice reaching every corner of the hall. “To another year at Silverthorne Academy.”

Polite applause followed.

Then she smiled slightly.

“And welcome especially to the heir of House Draven.”

The room erupted.

People stood screaming.

I blinked.

“Draven?" I mumbled.

I knew that name and the power it held. But who was the heir?

Well, I didn't have to ask much.

He walked onto the stage like he owned it.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Calm expression.

“Welcome Lucian Draven!"

Lucian Draven didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. The room adored him anyway.

He stood beneath the lights with relaxed arrogance I've only ever seen in dramas.

The Headmistress continued speaking, but I barely listened. Something in the room had shifted.

I was getting uncomfortable.

Lucian’s eyes were scanning the crowd.

Then they landed on me.

My stomach dropped.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

I looked behind me to make sure there wasn’t someone behind me.

There wasn’t.

His gaze sharpened.

No.

I was too far away to be seen even by the most powerful eyes, I felt.

I sat straighter and pretended to be invisible.

It did not work.

“And finally,” the Headmistress said. “This year’s scholarship recipient. Miss Reina Clementine.”

The hall went silent.

Every head turned.

I wanted to die.

“Come on, darling. Stand up and walk towards me," the Headmistress encouraged.

Slowly, I stood, trying to control my shakiness.

Whispers spread instantly.

“She’s human.”

“No bloodline?”

“I remember seeing her by the gate."

“They admitted her?”

"Is this a fucking joke?”

I walked toward the stage, trying to feign indifference. No matter how sharp my mouth was once in a while, it was just an act. It always was.

I tried to place the words at the back of my head as I got on the stage.

The Headmistress extended a hand toward me.

Before I could take it, movement cut across the platform.

Lucian Draven stepped in front of me.

Up close, he was even worse.

Too tall. Too handsome.

But angry now.

“This is a mistake,” he said coolly to the Headmistress.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

He looked at me then, eyes cold and assessing.

“Silverthorne is not a charity. You should leave.”

Oh.

I forced a smile and stepped closer.

“Sorry, Draven. I'm not going anywhere. You're not my Mom.”

More gasps.

His jaw tightened.

I felt proud of myself for exactly half a second.

Then he reached for my wrist.

“I’ll remove the mistake myself.”

His fingers closed around my skin.

Suddenly, a strange force ripped through the hall.

Lucian’s eyes widened.

He staggered back, instinctively letting go.

Then dropped to one knee in front of me, coughing blood onto the marble floor.

Silence.

I stood frozen as he glared at me.

Lucian Draven wiped blood from his mouth, his gaze filled with humiliation and fury.

He looked at me like he wanted to kill me.

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