Wild Mate (Heartsflame Academy #1)

Chapter 1

Sienna

No matter the creature who possesses it, desperation always tastes the same. Bitter as a wild root and coarse as sandstone, it lingers in the blood, tainting generation after generation until it becomes so steeped in the fabric of our souls that we no longer know what it means to be free from it.

As I stand at the back of the gathering crowd in Heartsflame Academy’s main courtyard, I study the faces around me and search for the signs.

Merfolk wring their damp hands, drying them out faster than if they stood still.

Witches mutter incantations and brews under their breath, lest they forget the words to a life-saving spell when they most need it.

Vampires lurk in the shadows, feigning indifference but analyzing the competition all the same, standing eerily still as their eyes roam the courtyard.

Shifters expend excess energy by bouncing on their heels and roughhousing with their pack-mates, eager for the festivities to begin.

The fae’s nervous ticks are the trickiest to spot on account of how rarely they appear in public, and today is no exception.

Not a single fae is in sight, leaving the competition to the lesser beings.

I’d be relieved if I weren’t already teetering so close to my breaking point.

Out of everyone here, I might be the most desperate.

If I fail to gain entrance to the academy, I won’t have a loving family or warm bed to return to; the wilds will consume me until there’s nothing left but bones and dust.

I clench my fists, drawing blood as my fingernails pierce my palms. I won’t fail today.

My life depends on it.

Though it’s impossible for me to fit in, I try my best to blend with the crowd.

Magical beings of all shapes and sizes hover in groups to fend off the flurrying snow, the most prominent among them being shifters huddling with their pack mates for warmth.

Vampires are present too, of course, lingering in groups of two or three at most, and a few dozen witches whisper secrets among themselves.

A surprising amount of merfolk gather the moisture in the air to collectively dampen the scales dotting their skin.

On instinct, I draw a breath to identify each scent I’ll be coming into contact with and immediately regret it.

My stomach churns at the onslaught of scents mingling in such tight quarters.

The open air may as well be a mirage; there’s so much tension that it hovers like a fog, trapping our emotions in a glass bottle.

I cross my arms and drum my fingertips to keep from pacing, not used to the crowd but not willing to leave.

I need this academy as much as the next person, though our reasons surely differ.

I’m not enrolling at Heartsflame to find a mate. After what my lying ex put me through, I won’t go down that path again. My goal, unlike all the others’, is practical: graduate at the top of my class and earn my place among a wolf pack of my own choosing.

How hard could it be?

My gaze lingers on a group of shifters enjoying the revelry with exuberance; the most rambunctious among them shoving each other and flexing their muscles to show off. I roll my eyes and make a mental note to avoid that pack at all costs . . . Though I’m well aware that beggars can’t be choosers.

Shit, would I really join a pack of lumbering idiots if I had no other choice?

My answer is sour on my tongue, and I quickly move on, turning my gaze to the line of script carved into the stone arch over the academy’s massive oak doors. Despite being unable to read the ancient tongue, I know the academy’s doctrine by heart.

To be unmated is to die.

I scoff, earning myself a few glares from people closest to me. Whoever chose that as the academy’s motto is one tormented bastard.

I’m still snickering by the time I make it to the front of the crowd. Most people move when they see me coming, but one boy doesn’t notice me until I shoulder past him. Openly gaping at our surroundings, he exhales slowly. Ice crystals form on his breath as he steadies himself on my arm.

I don’t like strangers touching me, let alone scared little witches.

He grabs my arm to steady himself, and I can’t hide a growl as his scent washes over me.

A witch, like I suspected, but also young and inexperienced.

If my intel is correct about the barbarity of the academy’s entrance trial, he’ll die within the first hour.

He unlatches his frozen fingers and stutters through an apology, the fuzzy orange curls stacked on his head somehow covered in more snow than the stones at our feet. Ice crystals cling to his lashes, and I stare at his pale complexion, wondering when he’ll finally turn blue and keel over.

A corpse means one less competitor for a coveted spot in this year’s graduating class. If only I were so lucky.

“Are you alright?” he asks, frowning as he scans my face. “Your eyes—they’re glowing.”

I quickly turn away. It’s useless to hide when every shifter in the courtyard can smell me, but having one fewer set of accusing eyes can’t hurt.

If this boy doesn’t know what makes me different from other shifters, there’s hope that the others won’t know, either.

Ignoring him, I put distance between myself and the other candidates, determined not to get distracted.

The one thing I can’t afford is making a careless mistake that gets me killed before the competition even begins.

Once I find a vacant spot away from the others, a man approaches the edge of the balcony overlooking this year’s entrants.

At first glance, he appears human. Lean muscle clings to his frame, and whatever power he holds is suppressed so that no one can get a read on him.

That alone proves that he’s stronger than he looks; only the most elite creatures can hide their talents.

A predator among prey.

A flicker of heat crackling through the air gives him away as his ancient eyes smolder like liquid sunlight.

Bronze scales appear down the lengths of his arms and along the curve of his neck, blending seamlessly with his skin.

The white hair sweeping down his back darkens with auburn streaks, and his smile becomes a flash of sharp teeth as he surveys the crowd below.

He’s a dragon shifter—one of the last, if the rumors are true, and the only headmaster that Heartsflame Academy has seen in its thousand-year history.

Smiling brightly, he addresses the academy’s latest hopefuls.

“Welcome to Heartsflame Academy. If you prove your value in the opening trials, you will stand among the magical elite.” He sweeps his arms out and gestures toward the perimeter of the amphitheater, where the most powerful of our species judges this year’s prospects.

I’m under no illusion that I haven’t already been identified; an alpha can smell the wilds on me long before I’ve entered a room.

There are only a handful of packless wolves in existence—and only one female.

The headmaster continues, though I’m no longer listening.

I scan the people around me to gauge their powers and plan an attack.

Although Heartsflame isn’t a military academy, I’m under no illusion that claiming a coveted spot on their roster comes without bloodshed.

Luckily for me, I’m at an advantage among the others: I’m a wolf among sheep.

A nervous girl—merfolk, judging by the pearls woven through her damp hair—shifts her weight as she glances around.

The person standing beside her—another one of her kind, judging by the smell—presses their shoulders together and murmurs words of encouragement in her ear.

Neither are dressed for winter with far too much skin on display, but the depths of the ocean are likely as cold as fallen snow.

I stare far longer than I should as their fingers interlock and they stand tall, suddenly unwavering in their resolve.

They’re entering the trials together, hopeful to double their odds of admittance, and a thread of longing stirs inside my heart for a partner of my own.

Someone to watch my back while I watch theirs. A confidant. A friend.

A lover.

Glowing silver eyes and a wolfish grin flash to the forefront of my mind, and I grit my teeth against the memory, refusing to acknowledge the unsteady beat of my heart and the ache blooming within its depths.

Get a fucking grip, Sienna.

The headmaster claps his hands to gather everyone’s attention.

“We begin immediately.” A glowing orb of white light appears at the highest peak in the sky, imitating the glow of the sun.

“You have until this orb disappears to earn your place at Heartsflame. At any time throughout the trials, if you pass, you will be immediately removed and transported to the boundary line to watch the remaining applicants . . . and your potential mates.”

Excitement ripples through the crowd. My shoulders tense.

I’m not keen on being watched by a hundred sets of eyes at once, but for the others, it’s a prime opportunity to showcase their skills and assets—physical or otherwise.

I roll my eyes as a blonde shifter waves flirtatiously and pushes her tits out toward a group of stoic shifter males assessing the competition.

Blonde Bitch is definitely a wolf seeking her mate.