Melissa’s POV

The night stretched endlessly, and I couldn't sleep. The fire in the hearth had died to embers, but I lay awake staring into the shadows, Clara’s words echoing again and again inside my head. Why don’t you go to the Alpha Academy? Disguise yourself as a boy… Fight them at their own game.

At first, I had laughed at her. But laughter had turned into silence, silence into restless pacing, pacing into sleepless torment. Because the more I denied it, the more it clawed at me. The idea wasn’t foolish. It was impossible, yes, but impossible was all I had left.

The worst was that every time I shut my eyes, I saw the guard’s faces and how they looked at me like I was already defeated, like I was nothing but a relic of a fallen Alpha. My father’s voice clashed against their memory. Choose with the heart of a true Alpha.

How was I supposed to choose when everything in me was frayed and breaking?

I turned onto my side. My wolf was restless, pacing and snarling inside. She hated the confinement as much as I did. The humiliation of being turned away at the cliff had left a scar that bled in every breath I took. And beneath that humiliation, a deeper wound: the shadow of Leon, his voice, his hands, the memories that clung to me like rot.

The walls were closing in, and the thought of waiting until morning was unbearable. The air inside these walls had grown suffocating. I knew I couldn’t stay in that bed, if I lay there any longer, my own thoughts would devour me.

Quietly, so as not to wake Clara, I rose. My body protested, still sore, still weak, but I ignored it. I slipped into one of Clara’s plain servant gowns, the coarse fabric scratchy against my skin, and bound my hair tight beneath a bonnet. My reflection in the mirror startled me, no longer Melissa, daughter of Alpha Roran, but a faceless maid. Almost invisible and totally forgettable, exactly what I needed.

It felt both humiliating and liberating. Creeping through the halls was easier than I had imagined. The guards stationed at the entrances had eyes only for threats greater than a weary servant girl. My heart leapt into my throat each time a boot scraped against stone, but no one stopped me. Step by step, I slipped into the night.

The night air was cool, damp with the smell of rain. The wind bit into my skin, but I welcomed the sting. It was real, it was freedom. I didn’t know where I was going until my feet carried me farther, past the riverbank and into the outskirts, where the lights of a small town glittered against the horizon.

And then I saw it. A club, raucous and alive, music spilling into the streets, laughter echoing, the clink of glasses. A place far enough from Eden’s reach that no one cared who I was.

When I entered, the first thing that struck me was the air, which was filled with smoke, ale, and bodies pressed too close together. Men shouted at tables, women laughed with painted lips, and the music thrummed in my bones. It was total chaos, which was exactly what I needed. I sat at the bar. “Whiskey,” I croaked, my voice raw.

He eyed me but poured without question. The first swallow burned down my throat like fire. I welcomed the pain. The second dulled the ache in my chest. By the fourth, the edges of the room blurred, and for the first time in days, the weight of my grief lifted, replaced by something reckless, something dangerous.

I thought of Clara’s words. The Alpha Academy, disguised as a boy, and fighting on their terms. Could I? Would I? My wolf whispered yes, but fear had a bigger hold on me.

I drank and drank until the room spun and the bar beneath my hands felt like the deck of a ship tossed at sea. I rose, staggering, searching for air. But instead I collided hard into a solid wall of muscle.

“Oh, Moon goddess” The words slurred from my lips as bile surged in my throat. Before I could stop it, I doubled over. Vomit splattered across the stranger’s chest.

Horror struck through my drunken haze. “S-sorry…” I mumbled, though the word dissolved into a cough. My body gave out, the world tilting sideways as darkness swallowed me whole.

FLASHBACK

I was back in my uncle’s chambers. The smell of wine and sweat. The creak of the floorboards as he approached. His voice, smooth and venomous, was whispering promises I never wanted. And then his hands, those filthy, crawling hands, sliding over my skin, pinning me down, silencing me with power I couldn’t fight.

“No!” I screamed, thrashing, choking on fear as the nightmare bound me tight. His laugh echoed, a sound I would never forget. I clawed at invisible chains, but they only tightened.

And then I jerked awake.

Gasping and drenched in sweat, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might tear through my ribs. My eyes flew open, and I wasn’t in my quarters nor was I in the club.

I was in a lavish room, silken sheets tangled around me, a high ceiling painted with gold trim. And a man was standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. I froze from fear.

The nightmare I was having had come into reality. I saw his shape, his shoulders, his eyes fixed on me, and my mind screamed uncle. He was here and had found me. He was going to touch me again, destroy me again.

“No,” I whispered, the word breaking into a sob. My gaze darted, desperate, until it landed on a vase sitting on the bedside table. My fingers closed around it before thought could intervene.

“Stay away from me!” I screamed, hurling the vase with all the strength my trembling body could summon.

It smashed against his head with a sickening crack. The man staggered, cursing under his breath, one hand flying to the wound.

I didn’t wait to see if he recovered and I ran.

Bare feet slapping against the polished floors, my lungs burning. I fled through endless halls, past grand staircases and glittering chandeliers, until the heavy front doors loomed.

The air burned my lungs as I ran, bare feet slapping against cold stone. The villa loomed behind me, sprawling and strange. It was grander than any inn, its windows gleaming with wealth, its gates too wide for a simple home. Where the hell was I?

Fragments of memory clawed their way back. The club, the drinks, colliding with someone, vomiting before I blacked.

Had that man carried me here? To this villa? Was he the one I had struck with the vase?

Shame and guilt enveloped me. What if he had only tried to help me? What if he had saved me from collapsing in the street, only for me to reward him with violence?

But I couldn’t, I couldn’t stop the fear. The memory of my uncle’s hands had fused with the stranger’s presence, and in that moment, they were the same. I had lashed out, just as my wolf demanded, and now… now I could not even apologize.

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled into the shadows of the street. “Moon goddess, forgive me,” I whispered. “I don’t even know who he was or his name.”

But the guilt was nothing compared to the rage. Because every action, every mistake, every trembling step traced back to the same root-him. My uncle. His abuse had poisoned me, broken me, left me mistrusting every hand that reached out, even if it meant salvation. He had stolen my safety, my innocence, and now even my ability to tell friend from foe.

I clenched my fists until my nails drew blood.

“No more,” I swore into the night. “I will not let him own me. I will not let his shadow rule me.”

The memory of his crawling hands lit a fire in my veins, fierce and consuming. It mingled with my fury at Marcel, at Leon, at the guards who dared to confine me, at every wolf who had chosen cowardice over loyalty.

I would have my revenge on all of them-I vowed.