C6 The Shift
Selene's POV
The parchment didn't vanish when she blinked.
She read it.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Each word stayed the same.
Transfer: Dorm 9.
Silas Dusk - effective midnight.
Tier: Elite.
Co-occupant: Rowan Volkner.
Selene sat frozen on the edge of her cot as if the floor beneath her might cave in. Her heart pounded hard enough to feel in her fingertips. Her mouth had gone dry.
Volkner.
She'd heard his name whispered like a spell since the day she stepped into Ironfang.
He wasn't just a student. He was a legacy. A storm wrapped in skin. An Alpha who didn't need to shout to command.
Dangerous. Powerful. Watchful.
And now, her roommate.
She should've seen this coming.
The war game. The smoke bomb. The relic. The way she moved like someone with nothing to prove.
She'd been too sharp. Too precise.
Too good for a nobody.
She bit down on a curse. The disguise had held so far-the bindings, the gravel in her voice, the stiff posture and silence. The wolfsbane drops had burned like hell when she applied them, but they worked.
But not forever.
Not under his nose.
Because she could smell him.
Even without standing close.
His scent had lingered across the training field like storm-slick pine and iron. It clung to the corridors. It haunted her thoughts.
She'd only dared glance at him once - tall and still atop the east balcony, where the moonlight caught in his eyes like glass knives.
That stillness didn't belong to boys.
That belonged to predators.
And now they expected her to live with him?
A thousand scenarios flashed through her mind: a broken clasp, wolfsbane wearing thin, slipping into unconsciousness during a heatwave simulation. What if he caught her scent? What if he heard her voice crack one octave too high?
Her hands were shaking.
She grabbed the edge of the bedframe and breathed through it.
She wouldn't let one dorm transfer ruin everything.
Ironfang had broken better wolves than her. But it wouldn't break this lie.
The Academy was her only chance at surviving long enough to disappear forever. At never becoming a name carved on Alpha Lorcan's collar.
She was not going back.
She packed in silence.
Not that there was much to pack. No one at Ironfang had time for trinkets or softness.
A second pair of uniform trousers.
A combat knife.
A silver-toothed comb.
A vial of wolfsbane-the good kind, black market grade. Nearly empty.
Her fingers paused on one item. Her belt buckle.
Etched into the underside, barely visible, was the Valeska crest. A sleeping wolf wrapped in a circle of thorns.
She turned it until the crest faced the fabric, then fastened it.
Silas Dusk had no crest.
No past.
No ties.
Only secrets.
The news had already hit the dorm by the time she stepped out of her bunk.
Killian looked like someone had thrown a brick at his chest.
"Wait. Wait, wait," he sputtered, jogging after her in the hallway. "You're moving? To Dorm Nine? That's - that's Volkner's room."
"Thanks for reading my transfer form out loud," Selene muttered.
Killian ignored the sarcasm. He looked... weirdly offended. "I mean, seriously? You're gonna leave us for him?"
"It's not a date, Killian."
"It might as well be! You get to share a bathroom. And-and he doesn't talk, Silas! He stares like he's trying to melt stone with his mind. What if he kills you in your sleep?"
"Then I guess you'll get my bunk back."
Killian gave her a long look, chewing on his lip like he wanted to say more. Like he almost did.
Then he sighed, dragged a hand through his messy auburn hair, and grumbled, "I hope he snores like a dying hog."
One of the other boys-Joran, maybe-snorted. "Better Volkner than the twins. Those guys sleep with knives under their pillows."
Killian turned on him. "You don't get it. Silas and I had a thing."
Selene blinked. "We did?"
"Well, I thought we did." He scowled. "I'm questioning everything now. My identity. My taste. Reality."
"Drama queen," Joran muttered.
Killian didn't argue. He just pulled Selene into a quick, stiff hug. "If he stabs you, cough twice."
Selene actually laughed, shoulders loosening for the first time all day. "You'll be fine without me."
"That's a lie," Killian huffed.
She felt him squeeze just a fraction too hard before letting go and offering a mock salute.
"Good luck, soldier. May your secrets stay buried and your bunk smell normal."
She hadn't even realized how close she and Killian had gotten these past months. Once he hated her just as she did. Now she liked him better than most cadets in this academy.
The elite dorm tower stood like a fortress in the northern wing. All sharp stone and iron-engraved runes. Older than the rest of the academy. Less forgiving.
She kept her head down as she climbed, counting each step to distract herself. At the top landing, a tall, black-cloaked warden leaned against the doorway of Dorm 9, arms folded.
He looked her over once. Nodded. "Good luck."
There was something about the way he said it-as if he already knew it wouldn't be enough.
The door creaked open.
The room was clean. Clinical. Nothing like the messy chaos of her old dorm. Here, everything had edges. Military precision.
Her side was empty.
The other side-
Books stacked by category.
Knives lined up on a velvet cloth.
Maps pinned with red wax markers.
A black jacket slung over the back of a chair.
She stepped in slowly, unsure if the air itself was colder.
She didn't even realize she was holding her breath until she dropped her bag onto the mattress.
Silence pressed in like claws.
Selene Valeska was many things. But she was not afraid of ghosts.
And Rowan Volkner? He was still flesh and blood.
Right?
The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then-
The sound of a key in the door.
She turned too fast.
And there he was.
Black uniform jacket undone at the collar. Collarbone bare. Pale eyes sharp as broken frost.
His scent hit her immediately: cold, metallic, something wild buried deep.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
She didn't breathe.
He didn't blink.
Then, calmly, without a single flicker of surprise, he said:
"You're early."
