Nova pov-
If hell had a GPS location, my dad just drove us straight into it.
The sign on the gate said "Noctis Dominium Academy" in gold gothic letters that looked straight out of a vampire Netflix series.
I drag my fingers down the foggy glass, watching the spiked gates crawl open. They look like something out of a Dracula movie, all gothic and extra, with sharp metal spirals that scream trespassers will die
Noctis Dominium Academy- aka the Ivy League of supernatural schools, aka enemy territory, aka the last place on earth I'd ever want to breathe.
The whole campus was castle-like, dripping in old money vibes and power. You know the kind—stone walls, iron gates, creepy gargoyles, and towers so high you'd think dragons lived there. Basically, Hogwarts, if Hogwarts came with trust funds, pack politics, and heirs who'd eat you alive if you dared breathe wrong.
And me? I was the glitch in the system.
The whispers started before the car even stopped. Students in perfect uniforms—pressed blazers, polished boots—turned their heads, smirks curling like they could already smell me.
"Is that… the Omega?"
"Why would they even let one in here?"
"She's not gonna last a week."
Omega. The word hit like spit in the face every damn time. I clenched my fists on my lap, nails digging into my palms.
Beside me, my stepsister Serena fixed her lip gloss in the car mirror, completely unbothered. Of course she was. She was born pretty, born spoiled, born perfect. Her mother, sitting next to her, gave me her usual side-eye—sharp, judgmental, like she was still questioning how I hadn't died in the womb like my real mother did giving birth to me.
"Sit up straight," my stepmother muttered, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. "You're representing your pack, even if you're… what you are."
I rolled my eyes. What I am. Like it was contagious or something.
Dad's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. His profile's sharp, cold—he looks like every part the powerful Alpha. Everyone's scared of him. Everyone except me. And maybe that's why I love him so much. He turns those glacier eyes on me, and just for a second, the ice melts.
"You're stronger than them, Nova," he says, low enough that my stepmother can't hear. "Don't let them touch you."
My chest tightens. It's rare he shows it—his soft side. The part of him that's mine and mine alone. That's why Serena, my stepsister, shoots me that look—the one where she wants to claw my face off. And why my stepmother, Camilla, smiles like she just swallowed a lemon.
"Really, darling?" Camilla drawls from the passenger seat, her perfume choking the entire car. "You're going to waste your words on her? The Academy isn't a place for… strays."
I clench my fists. One day, I swear I'll snap her fake nose right off her smug face.
Dad doesn't even look at her. That's the thing. He never gives Camilla the warmth he gives me. Which, honestly, is the only weapon I've ever needed.
Still didn't stop the twist in my stomach as the academy gates swallowed us whole.
The air here was heavy. Electric. Like something in the atmosphere was waiting, watching. My skin prickled, the tiny hairs on my neck standing up. Weirdest part? It felt almost like… recognition.
And then I saw him.
He wasn't even doing anything. Just standing with a bunch of other heirs, his hands shoved in his pockets like he owned the entire goddamn courtyard. Broad shoulders, black t-shirt tight over his chest, tattoos crawling up his arms and disappearing under his sleeves. His hair was messy in that didn't try but looks stupid hot anyway way, and his eyes—gray, stormy, freezing—landed on me like a blade pressing against my throat.
Instant. Hate.
The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk, the kind you'd want to slap off someone's face, and something in my chest stuttered. Not attraction. Nope. Just adrenaline. Or rage. Or both.
"Welcome to your new nightmare," Serena whispered, leaning close like she couldn't wait to see me burn.
And for the first time since the car crossed into enemy territory, I believed her.
I glanced back through the window but he was gone.
Strange, who was he? and why did I suddenly have this instant dislike for him?
I pride myself to be an absolute good judge of character, but why was I already condemning a guy I haven't even talk to?
The SUV rolls to a stop, and Serena flips her perfect glossy hair, smirking at me like I should crawl out under the car instead of walking through the front gates. Her nails are painted blood red. Fitting.
I yank open the door before she can say anything nasty. The air outside hits me—cold, sharp, humming with something I can't explain. Like static before a storm. It runs across my skin, making the tiny hairs on my arms stand up.
That's when I feel it.
The pull.
Like someone invisible just hooked a wire into my chest and tugged. My breath stumbles. My pulse skips.
I scan the crowd, and though I don't see him yet, I swear something—or someone—is watching me.
And then the whispers start again. Louder. Sharper. "Omega."
Like it's my name. Like it's all I'll ever be.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and plaster on my best don't mess with me face. They want to see me crumble? Too bad. Aria doesn't break for anyone.
Even if, deep down, I can feel the storm waiting for me inside these castle walls.
Maybe it's not a literal storm, but it feels like the kind that creeps up right before thunder rips the sky open. You know that heavy silence before lightning strikes? Yeah—that. It's crawling under my skin, buzzing in my bones like my instincts are screaming: run.
But I don't run.
Instead, I roll my shoulders back, tug my jacket tighter, and keep walking like I own this place—even though the stares around me make it very clear I don't. Everywhere I look, there's a sea of expensive leather boots, silk uniforms that probably cost more than my dad's entire car, and smiles that are about as warm as an ice bath.
Whispers follow me down the hallway like a bad perfume.
"Is she really an Omega?"
"Her father must've lost his mind…"
"Pathetic."
If looks could kill, I'd have been buried six times already. Still, I smirk. Because here's the thing—I'd rather bite my tongue bloody than let these spoiled royals know they're getting to me.
Serena, of course, drinks it all in like it's her coronation parade. She struts beside me in her shiny boots, practically glowing under their stares, chin high as if she's the goddess of this academy and I'm her charity case little shadow. If she smirks at me one more time, I might actually trip her down these castle steps—by accident, of course.
My stepmother doesn't even bother pretending. "Don't embarrass us, Aria," she hisses under her breath, nails digging into my arm like claws. "Try to stay quiet and out of the way. It's bad enough we have to drag an Omega into this academy at all."
I yank my arm free, whispering back, "Relax, you'll still get your precious photo-op of Serena looking like the heir she isn't."
Her eyes narrow, but before she can snap, my dad clears his throat.
One sound. That's all it takes. His presence cuts through like a blade, quiet but sharp, pulling me back from the edge. He doesn't say much, he never does—but when his hand brushes my shoulder, just barely, it's like he's telling me: I see you. Don't let them break you.
And that's the thing about my dad. He's colder than a January wind, calculating, always two steps ahead like some alpha chess master. But with me? With me, sometimes—just sometimes—he slips. Just enough to remind me I'm not completely alone in this mess. It's a secret warmth no one else gets, least of all Serena or her mother. Which probably explains why they hate me as much as they do.
So yeah. Maybe this whole place reeks of trouble, maybe I don't belong here, maybe every stare feels like it's already planning my funeral—but as I stare up at those massive iron gates creaking shut behind us, one thought flashes through my mind:
This is only the beginning.
And something tells me the storm I'm walking into won't be content with just rain.