Chapter 7: Run, Little Wolf Reaper. That was the title they bestowed upon me. A name etched in blood, earned at the tender age of fifteen, the night I claimed my first life. It was not in a sanctioned duel, but during a hunt. The victim, a traitor disguised as a childhood comrade, a deceiver who I despised to the very core of my being. I did not hesitate. I did not falter. I buried him with my own hands, bearing the weight of his blood as I walked towards my destined throne – a throne I longed to forge on my own terms. And the path to that throne led me to Lupine Academy. Within the confines of Lupine Academy, where power reigned supreme and weakness invited demise, I had crafted a reputation that none dared to challenge. Dominance, ambition, and a thirst for blood were my second nature, instilled in every fiber of my being. The sons of regional Alphas, the heirs of ancient bloodlines, none dared to defy me. I was not just an Alpha; I was the Alpha – the reaper, the whispered legend that echoed through the corridors long before my official ascent to the apex of this institution. I lingered, not out of obligation, but out of a relentless pursuit of victories that had eluded others for a century. I sought to erect my throne upon the foundation of battles won with blood and death, a path that resonated with me. And I reveled in it. But then, he breached the gates of the Academy, a new presence that disrupted the very essence of my world. A peculiar aura surrounded him, not one of audacity or arrogance, but of observation, silence, and caution. His amber eyes locked with my fiery gaze, exuding a stubborn defiance that kindled a mysterious spark within me. My inner wolf, accustomed to ferocity and dominance, stirred at the challenge this enigmatic figure posed, standing amidst my realm with unwavering resolve. As I observed from the balcony, the arrival of new recruits unfolded before me. Most were forgettable, mere placeholders born into Alpha lineage by chance, awaiting their turn based on ancestry. But he... this diminutive Alpha with an air of ambiguity, was an enigma that unsettled me. And I abhorred uncertainties within my domain. His presence emitted a silent proclamation of not belonging. Despite his squared shoulders, there was an unsettling precision in his movements, akin to a soldier masquerading as a rogue. His attire mimicked that of the mediocre, yet his aura bespoke of something deeper. Every aspect of him was shrouded in peculiarity, and when my inquiry pierced his facade, a barely perceptible tension betrayed him. His unwavering gaze, devoid of fear, but tinged with unreadable coldness, hinted at a facade of bravery masking an undercurrent of apprehension. In a voice meticulously crafted to conceal truths, he uttered, "Seth Darven." The name slithered through my senses like venom, the absence of his scent pricking at my instincts. Every wolf bore a distinct aroma, a signature of their essence. Yet, he defied this norm. Intriguing. I anticipated his façade to crumble, as most eventually did. However, his countenance remained unyielding, a facade of composure that was unsettlingly impressive. This young wolf was more than met the eye. His audacity in addressing me without a hint of fear or reverence intrigued me. Wolves were cognizant of the repercussions of defying my authority, yet he seemed oblivious or indifferent to the consequences, both of which kindled a primal curiosity within me. Dangerous. Reckless. Attributes that either repelled or enticed me. And I found myself drawn to the allure of unraveling this new enigma, eager to engage with this spirited pup further. But my contemplation was abruptly interrupted by Jordan and his sycophantic pack, who encircled Seth like vultures descending upon their prey. The jeers and taunts, coupled with Seth's unwavering demeanor, stoked an unfamiliar anger within me. And when Jordan dared to lay hands on him, a surge of protectiveness surged through me, propelling me into action before conscious thought. With a resounding thud, I slammed my drink onto the table, silencing the room. "How dare you allow their torment?" I growled softly, lifting Seth's chin with a gentle yet firm grip. His skin felt fragile beneath my touch, his amber eyes widening in astonishment. The distant tolling of the bell dispersed the other Alphas, leaving Seth and me in a charged silence. As he averted his gaze and rose, a faint furrow creased his brow. "What you have been doing since my arrival – watching, touching – that is harassment too, Alpha Ronan," he retorted calmly, stepping closer. "If you wish for someone to confront them, perhaps you should be the first, don't you think?" A fleeting, intense gaze locked between us, before he turned away, retrieving his tray. I remained rooted in his path as he brushed past me, too close for indifference. In that fleeting moment, I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. Once again, the scent of herbs and perfume enveloped me, devoid of any other essence. A low growl resonated within me, a restlessness that my wolf mirrored. "Who is the audacious pup you allow to roam freely?" Asher's voice interjected, his presence unnoticed until now. "That is a puzzle I intend to unravel," I replied, my gaze tracking Seth's departure, particularly noting the subtle grace in his movements, even clad in loose attire. "For now, let him entertain the notion of escape," I murmured. Let him believe he could conceal himself. Let him harbor the illusion of victory, whether in the battle for dominance or the burgeoning tension between us. For in my realm, secrets were but fleeting shadows, and if Seth Darven presumed he could infiltrate my domain without accountability, he was poised to learn a formidable lesson. As he cast a parting glance over his shoulder upon exiting, our eyes locked one final time. A cold, feral smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Run, little wolf."