Scent of Prey
SCARLETT O’HARA
I felt giddy as we made our way out of Dorm C toward the main campus buildings. My steps were tiny and quick, partly from excitement, partly because the woman guiding me walked like she was late for a divine appointment.
My heart thumped.
This is real. I’m really here.
The nerves kicked in as we approached the academic wing.
“You’ll be starting with General Orientation Studies,” the woman said briskly. “Behavioral assessment, hierarchy management, conflict strategy, pack diplomacy… foundational classes for new students.”
“Students learn all that?” I asked.
“Silvercrest shapes leaders, Miss O’Hara. The best in the country.”
Leaders.
Me?
I could barely walk without tripping into someone’s chest.
And I had almost face-planted into the hottest, scariest guy alive. My skin still tingled where his nose grazed my cheek. Who sniffs a stranger like she’s dessert?
Focus, Scar. New life. Fresh start.
The campus was unfairly beautiful, manicured lawns, gothic stone buildings, holographic schedule boards floating above pathways.
Silvercrest looked like Hogwarts and NASA had a very expensive baby.
Old statues of snarling wolves guarded glass buildings with Latin engravings I absolutely could not read.
The woman still “Mrs. Silver-hair” in my head walked beside me without slowing.
“Most people think we’re just advanced placement everything,” she said. “But Silvercrest is specialized. Strategy. Combat theory. Behavioral prediction. Power dynamics. Genetic optimization. You’ll take normal academics, but everything here serves one goal: producing the strongest leaders.”
I swallowed. “L… like politicians?”
She laughed softly. “Some. Others become CEOs, generals, intelligence operatives. A few… disappear into jobs the public never hears about.”
Generals. CEOs.
And apparently spies who “disappear into jobs the public never hears about.”
Perfect. I’d accidentally enrolled in Black Ops University for werewolves.
We reached Wolfsbane Hall, climbed marble stairs worth more than my entire street back home, and stepped into a hallway swarming with students who looked sculpted by angry gods. Broad shoulders, sharp jaws, perfect everything.
And all of them stared.
Being the only human omega in a pack prepared me for stares but not these.
These were predatory. Curious. Hungry.
I blushed hard.
Mrs. Silver-hair didn’t slow. She stopped at a pair of open double doors.
“Your class is in Lecture Hall Seven.”
Noise exploded outward, laughter, shouting, something metallic crashing.
“Um… what’s going on in there?” I whispered.
“Your first class,” she said cheerfully. “Advanced Dominance Submission Theory. Professor Vale is unconventional… but brilliant.”
Unconventional.
Right.
I peeked inside and immediately regretted it.
The room was huge, high ceilings, tall windows, shiny floors. But the students? They weren’t sitting. They weren’t calm. They weren’t doing anything normal.
Two boys were literally wrestling on the ground. Someone was throwing paper balls at the ceiling fan. Three girls sat on desks, laughing at something on a phone. An Alpha had a smaller looking guy pinned to a wall by the neck while smirking. A chair was upside down for no reason.
It looked like a zoo if the zoo animals were rich, hot, and unhinged.
I stopped in the doorway, clutching my books against my chest as the entire room seemed to notice me at once.
Conversations died away, and suddenly far too many faces were turned in my direction.
Wonderful. Because my first day hadn't been embarrassing enough already.
The woman beside me didn't seem bothered in the slightest. She walked straight into the room as though this level of chaos was perfectly normal.
At the front stood a tall man in a dark suit, arms folded as he surveyed the class with far more amusement than any teacher should have had in this situation.
“Professor Hale,” the woman said calmly. “This is Scarlett O’Hara, Epsilon Scholar. Omega. Human.”
Professor Hale raised a brow, and the room gradually fell quiet.
Human, omega, and apparently the new top scholar.
I might as well have walked in wearing a sign that said Please make my life miserable.
The woman gave me a gentle nudge forward. “Welcome to your new class, Miss O’Hara. Learn well.”
Before I could beg her to reconsider abandoning me to these people, she slipped out and closed the door behind her.
The soft click somehow made me feel even more exposed.
Professor Hale spared me another look before gesturing toward the back. “There’s an empty seat, second from the left. Go sit.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
I made my way down the aisle with my books clutched against my chest, painfully aware of the attention following me.
Four large wooden desks made up the back row. The one nearest the window was occupied by a guy who appeared to be sleeping through the entire class, his head buried in his arms and broad shoulders making it fairly obvious he wasn't a girl.
I took the seat beside him and tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
It didn't work.
People were still looking.
I tugged at the hem of my skirt, adjusted my blazer, then forced my hands into my lap before I started fidgeting with something else.
Please stop staring at me.
A whisper came from somewhere behind me, followed by a muffled snicker. Someone dragged a chair across the floor, and every little sound suddenly seemed louder when I was trying so desperately not to attract attention.
Fantastic.
My first real class at Silvercrest, and I already felt like the only rabbit someone had accidentally dropped into a den of wolves.
Trying to ignore everyone else, I glanced at the guy sleeping beside me.
Except he wasn't sleeping anymore.
Amber eyes were staring straight at me.
Oh no.
It was him.
The guy from the hallway.
The guy who had sniffed me.
He watched me with that same strange curiosity as before, like there was something about me he couldn't quite make sense of.
My nerves immediately came rushing back.
He blinked at last, and the faintest hint of amusement appeared on his face.
That somehow made things worse.
The blond head lifted from his folded arms, giving me my first proper look at him. His hair fell messily across his forehead, framing sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw, while those ridiculous amber eyes seemed even brighter up close.
And he was huge.
Even slouched in his chair, his shoulders filled out the white uniform shirt, the sleeves rolled back over muscular forearms marked by faint silver scars.
He leaned back as though he had nowhere else in the world to be, one arm stretching across the back of the chair beside mine.
Which happened to be my chair.
I became painfully aware of how little space there was between us.
Say something normal, Scar. Please. One normal human interaction.
“H-hi.”
It came out embarrassingly small.
Wonderful.
His attention moved over me, lingering long enough to make heat crawl up my neck. Suddenly the fitted blazer felt much tighter than it had in front of the mirror, and I resisted the urge to start adjusting my clothes all over again.
“Hi, little omega,” he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear it over the grunts and thuds from the others in the class.
Little omega.
His voice curled around the word omega like smoke, thick, warm, and impossible to escape. It sank straight into my bloodstream and pooled low in my belly, hot and liquid.
I squeezed my thighs together so hard the edge of the desk bit into my palms.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” he murmured, voice curling warm and dark around my ear.
I blinked too fast. “I…I wasn’t trying to, I mean, I didn’t mean to…”
“Crash into me?”
He smiled like he absolutely loved that I had.
“Maybe you should do it again.”
My cheeks burned so hot I could’ve powered the school’s entire heating system.
“I’m not.. um..”
Words.
Where were my words?
Why did they all run away the moment he talked?
Something in his gaze shifted. The curiosity remained, but there was something else beneath it now, something that made me suddenly wish there was more space between our chairs.
Like he hadn't quite figured me out yet and intended to keep looking until he did.
“Relax,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I'm not going to bite.”
He let the words hang between us before the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Not yet.”
Oh God.
I could only stare at him while my heart pounded hard enough to make sitting still nearly impossible.
He tipped his head, studying my face with obvious amusement.
“Cute,” he murmured. “You really are.”
Cute.
That was new.
Back home, I was the runt. The weakling. Soft-boned Scarlett.
But the way he was looking at me made me feel like something entirely different.
Still nervous. Still painfully aware of how small I was beside him.
But noticed.
His attention shifted again, and his nostrils flared slightly as he drew in a breath.
Whatever amusement had been on his face disappeared.
“Fuck.” His eyes returned to mine. “You smell like you're already in heat, little omega, and we haven't even been properly introduced.”
Heat rushed through me, and a tiny gasp escaped before I could hold it back.
His pupils expanded, eating into the gold until only a thin ring of color remained.
At the front of the room, Professor Hale clapped once.
“Valdane. Eyes forward. You can eye-fuck the new girl after my lecture.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the room. Someone whistled, and heat rushed all the way up my neck.
Rhys didn't look away. His smile only widened as he leaned close enough for his lips to brush the shell of my ear.
“Name's Rhys Valdane.” His breath warmed my skin. “And you just walked into my favorite class on the wrong day, sweetheart.”
He drew back slightly, giving me just enough room to breathe, though his attention never left me.
“Tell me yours.” The challenge in his expression made my stomach flip. “I want to know what I'm going to be moaning later.”
My brain short-circuited. What???
“I .. Scarlett,” I stammered, barely a whisper. “Scarlett O’Hara.”
“Scarlett,” he repeated, tasting every syllable like it was candy. “Pretty name for a pretty little prey.”
His hand moved (so fast I almost missed it) and settled on my bare knee under the desk. Just his palm, warm and enormous, fingers curling possessively around the inside of my thigh.
I jolted, a tiny gasp escaping before I could trap it.
Rhys’s thumb dragged once, slow, soothing, and sinful, right along the edge where my skirt met bare skin.
Then he stepped back, the smirk sliding off his face like it had never been there.
“Welcome to Silver Crest Omega,” he said.
And I had no idea how much worse things were about to get.