Jasmin's POV
Sleep eluded me completely on my first night at Wolfborne Academy. I remained rigid against the mattress, every nerve ending on high alert. Never before had I been forced to share sleeping quarters with anyone, much less a room full of Alpha males. My heightened senses picked up every minute sound - the rustle of sheets, the quiet scratch of skin, a soft exhale in the darkness.
Each noise sent tension shooting through my body, especially knowing that Max occupied one of those beds.
He had slipped into the room well after curfew, when I was already buried under my covers. I kept my eyes squeezed shut and my back turned toward his side of the room, but something told me his attention was fixed on my still form. My fingers gripped the blanket like a lifeline. Perhaps it was merely paranoia after enduring his intense stares all day, but I could swear I felt his gaze burning into me through the shadows. I refused to roll over and confirm my suspicions - ignorance felt safer than certainty in that moment.
Dawn arrived with Hardy and Matthew engaged in their typical morning ritual of crude jokes and mock wrestling matches. Their boisterous voices shattered any hope of additional rest. I pushed myself upright, rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes, when Max emerged from the adjoining bathroom with nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist.
The air left my lungs in a rush. My eyes went wide as I nearly lost my balance on the narrow bed, completely unprepared for such a brazen display. What kind of person strutted around practically naked like that? His dark eyes found mine immediately, forcing me to quickly arrange my features into an expression of cool detachment as I climbed to my feet.
My pulse thundered against my eardrums despite my outward composure.
Right, this was a dormitory filled with male wolves. Such casual undress was likely commonplace here. Hardy had emerged shirtless, and Matthew wore even less without any apparent shame. But Max was different - his physique was absolutely devastating. Every plane and ridge of his torso spoke of deadly strength and brutal training. As I bent to lace my boots, my gaze betrayed me, drawn to the water droplets cascading from his damp hair down the carved ridges of his abdomen before disappearing beneath that precariously positioned towel. His imposing frame seemed to dominate the entire space effortlessly.
Unlike his roommates, Max's back bore the marks of violence - raised, angry scars that crisscrossed his skin like a roadmap of pain. These weren't the clean wounds earned in sparring sessions or academy exercises. No, these told stories of real warfare, of battles fought with lethal intent. Against my better judgment, I found myself studying those marks with growing fascination.
Then he reached for the edge of his towel with deliberate slowness, and my breath stuttered as the fabric shifted lower on his hips. I jerked my attention away immediately, my heart slamming against my ribs. Damn it. I had witnessed plenty of naked warriors during combat training and field missions, but something about him left me completely off-balance.
Pull yourself together, I commanded silently, moving toward my storage locker.
The room began to empty as the others dressed in their academy uniforms, giving me space to retrieve clean clothes. I was reaching for a fresh shirt when Max's voice came from directly behind me.
"You stayed in your uniform all night?"
My hand froze on the fabric. He stood close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. I had wanted to change into something more comfortable for sleeping, but every time I considered undressing, one of them would appear, making privacy impossible.
I absolutely could not risk anyone discovering the binding wrapped around my chest.
"Couldn't be bothered," I replied with calculated indifference, forcing myself to face him directly.
His eyebrow lifted in obvious skepticism. "What about bathing? Too much trouble for that as well?"
I pressed my tongue against my teeth to keep from grimacing. The truth was I had been deliberately avoiding the showers, terrified that water might wash away the masking scent I used to hide my true nature. My plan was to wash once the dormitory emptied, but why was he so fixated on my personal habits?
"I prefer staying filthy," I drawled, letting a mocking smile curve my lips as his expression grew thunderous. Across the room, Clyde's shoulders went rigid at my crude comment.
I decided to push further, curious to see how far I could provoke him. "Sometimes I go for weeks without washing. Maybe even months."
I was preparing to add something even more revolting when Matthew bounded over and threw his arm across my shoulders like we were lifelong companions. My wolf bristled instantly at the unwanted contact, and it took tremendous willpower not to break his wrist and send him crashing to the floor.
"Evan! You haven't cleaned up yet, right?" he announced cheerfully, completely oblivious to my discomfort. "Come on, let's grab the showers before morning bell."
Ice flooded my veins. Communal bathing facilities? No individual privacy? My heart rate spiked dangerously.
Before I could formulate an escape plan, a menacing growl rumbled through the air, freezing everyone in place.
Max's burning gaze locked onto Matthew, his attention dropping meaningfully to the arm still draped around my shoulders. "Can't you see we're having a conversation?" His voice carried the promise of violence. "Leave. Now."