Monday morning at the Silver Moon Academy didn't feel like a typical start to the week. The air was thick with a vibrating, restless energy. By midnight, the pack's hierarchy would be rewritten, and every student in the halls knew it.
Elara sat at a weathered stone table in the courtyard with Miri and Tobias. A light mist clung to the ground, but the sun was fighting its way through—the final sun before the Rising Moon.
"I've never seen the cafeteria ladies so stressed," Miri said, leaning back and tossing a grape into the air. "They're arguing over whether the Alpha likes his steaks seared or blue for the midnight banquet. As if he'll even be tasting the food once he sees his mate."
Tobias laughed, adjusting his glasses. "It's not just the food. The entire administration is on edge. They've polished the floor of the Great Hall so much I saw a Gamma slip and slide twenty feet this morning."
Elara tried to smile, but her eyes kept drifting to the clock tower. Twelve hours. In twelve hours, she would be eighteen. The thought made her stomach twist into a cold, hard knot.
"Don't do that," Miri nudged her. "Don't spend the whole day counting the minutes. We're vibing, remember? Total denial until the moon hits the peak."
"It's hard to deny it when the whole world is screaming about it," Elara murmured, picking at the corner of her textbook. "I just want it to be Tuesday. I want to wake up and realize the world didn't end, even if nothing changes for me."
"Tuesday will be better," Tobias agreed gently. "But today, we breathe."
The peaceful moment was shattered by a collective intake of breath from the students near the main entrance. The heavy double doors swung open, and a wave of raw, unfiltered power rolled into the hallway.
The Twins.
Jarrius led the way, his stride commanding and effortless. He wore his black training gear, looking every bit the lethal Alpha-to-be. Behind him, Jamin walked with a more measured pace, his expression unreadable but his presence no less striking.
The reaction was instantaneous. A group of girls near the lockers practically swooned, their whispers rising into a frantic, fawning chorus.
"Oh my Goddess, Jarrius looks even bigger than last week," one girl breathed, smoothing her hair.
"Do you think he'll look at me tonight?" another whispered, clutching her books to her chest.
Elara watched as a girl from the Delta line practically threw herself in Jarrius's path to offer him a celebratory gift. Jarrius didn't even slow down; he stepped around her as if she were a piece of stray furniture, his eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. He didn't look left or right. He was a king who had already decided no one in this hallway was worth his time.
Beside Elara, Miri let out a loud, theatrical groan and dramatically rolled her eyes so far back they nearly disappeared.
"Goddess, the thirst in this hallway is actually embarrassing," Miri hissed, her lip curling in disgust. "Look at them. They're acting like he's a god descending from the heavens instead of a guy who probably forgets to wash his socks."
Tobias chuckled, shaking his head. "Power is an intoxicating scent, Miri. And right now, Jarrius is wearing it like a gallon of cheap cologne."
Elara felt the familiar pang of her crush, but seeing the blatant arrogance in Jarrius's gait—the way he treated the pack's adoration like a nuisance—made a sour taste rise in her throat. She followed Miri's lead, twisting her eyes away in a mix of irritation and hurt.
Jamin, however, paused for a split second as they passed the courtyard table. He didn't stop, but his gaze swept over their small group. While Jarrius ignored everyone, Jamin's eyes briefly met Elara's. He didn't smile—it wasn't the time for it—but he gave a small, barely visible incline of his head. A quiet 'I see you' before he followed his brother into the main wing.
"At least the spare has manners," Miri muttered, though she still looked annoyed.
"He's not a spare," Elara corrected softly, though she wasn't sure why she was defending him. "He's just... different."
"Different is good," Tobias said, closing his book. "In twelve hours, different might be exactly what this pack needs."
The bell rang, the sharp sound echoing like a countdown. The twins were gone, the fawning girls were trailing after them, and Elara was left in the settling dust of the hallway, feeling the heat in her veins start to hum in sync with the ticking clock.
Midnight was coming. And the "mouse" was tired of watching the lions run the show.