Chapter 5: He Caught My Scent

​"Brianna—" Brianna’s father gasped, scrambling out of his chair, bowing even lower. "Please," he pleaded with Ashford, thirty years of humiliation folded into a single syllable. "She didn’t mean it! She’s a good girl, please don’t expel her—I’ll pay for the damages—"

​"Stop bowing your head."

​He didn’t listen. He was practically on his knees.

​Ashford let the silence stretch, savoring how small she could make a man feel without lifting a finger.

​"One week," she said finally. "Suspension. I trust that’s generous."

​"Thank you! Thank you so much, Principal Ashford—"

​"See that it doesn’t happen again." She looked at me with a poisoned gaze. Her gaze made it clear that she didn’t care about me, and opted for just a week suspension to keep me quiet and know my place. Yes, Ravenhollow was not a place for a mere Omega to act out.

I clicked my tongue. Is that so?

She dismissed us, her head already turned to the side, as if she couldn’t bare to look at us for one more second.

​A week, huh? It was enough time to start learning what I had woken up into. Enough time to figure out how to claw a wolf back into a body that currently had none. Principal Ashford, Alpha Kano, Ravenhollow Academy, you have no idea the monster you just unleashed on yourselves.

​We turned for the door just as it swung open.

​A black haired guy stepped in. But he didn’t seem like a regular student. It wasn’t just because his uniform was far too sharp, his posture was like a blade, and the air around him was intimidating.

He wore a discipline committee sash on his sleeve but it was a different color from the ones who escorted me to the principal’s office. While the others were red, his was blue.

I could already tell he was someone in charge but I didn’t pay much attention to him.

He pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger, but the moment his red eyes landed on me, my eyes met his and he froze, while my own skin prickled.

Dammit! It was an old instinct in this borrowed body—the way prey reacted in the presence of a true predator.

His gaze was calculating, assessing. Like he’d caught a glimpse of the dangerous beast hidden beneath this weak skin.

​I snapped my gaze away first. There was nothing to gain from being studied when I had so few pieces of this world.

​We walked past him without a word.

​Behind us, the heavy creak of a chair echoed as Ashford scrambled to her feet, her haughtiness vanishing. "Master Damian! I wasn’t expecting you."

​So his name was Damian—and it seemed like it was powerful enough to make even the principal tremble.

​An Alpha? The boy’s lingering thought seemed to trail after us. No... He sniffed the air. She smells like an Omega, and yet, she doesn’t feel like an Omega at all. Very interesting.

​Shit. He caught my scent.

​I didn’t need to read minds to know when a predator had marked its prey. The subtle flick of a scent in the air, the micro-shifts in posture, the slight dilating of the eyes—they spoke volumes to someone trained to kill.

​And right now, every instinct in my gut shouted the same warning: This Master Damian is someone I need to avoid until I regain at least a fraction of my power.

Brianna’s father, Bradford Wells didn’t say a word as we walked out of the school building. The silence between us stretched heavy, thick with the unsaid, until we reached a rundown truck parked at the edge of the lot—a battered, rusting thing that looked like it barely belonged on the road.

​As soon as we stepped inside, the old engine groaned under his touch, but he didn’t start it right away. Instead, Bradford Wells turned toward me.

​His eyes landed on my hair. Red, crusty patches of tomato paste were still clinging to the strands and flaking near my temple. He reached under the dashboard, pulled out a somewhat clean towel, and offered it to me with hands that trembled slightly.

​I took it without a word, dabbing at my forehead.

​Underneath the dried sauce, my fingers probed my scalp. I remembered that she fell off the rooftop, and can somewhat recall the sickening impact that should have cracked my skull like an eggshell. But there was no wound and no blood.

​Did whatever power that dragged my soul into this body heal the damage too?

​Before I could ponder the witchcraft behind it, a heavy sigh filled the cab.

​"Brianna," Bradford started, his voice thick with a quiet, suffocating helplessness. He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t scolding me. Even after Ashford had accused me of violence and disruption, there was no anger in his face—only a crushing weight. "It’s fine. You can just stay home for now and try to recover. I know... I know you’ve been having a hard time at school."

​He looked down at his own calloused, stained hands, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned pale. "It’s all my fault. If I were stronger... if our family had a better standing, they wouldn’t treat you like this. I’m sorry, Brianna."

​I sat frozen, watching him.

​Pathetic words. So weak. In my past life, weakness got you put six feet under, and apologies were just cheap breath wasted before a blade took your throat. An assassin didn’t respect a man who bowed his head to every passing storm without a proper fight.

​And yet... I didn’t hate it.

​A strange, unfamiliar heat blossomed deep in my chest, melting through the cold, calculated defense mechanisms I’d relied on for decades. It was uncomfortable, but it was warm.

​Bradford finally turned the key, and the old truck shuddered to life with a rough roar.

​"Your mother and brothers are waiting at home," he murmured, pulling out onto the main road. "I’ll explain everything to them so they don’t get mad. But don’t worry, Brianna. No one is going to yell at you. No one will blame you. Just try your best to rest. Once the week is over, you can return to school like nothing ever happened."

​I stared out the window as the school blurred into the background, clutching the damp towel in my lap. I gave him a small, silent nod.

​So this is what a family does, huh?

It was completely alien. But I wasn’t here to play daughter. This identity, this family—it was all temporary. A convenience until I repaid the girl whose skin I was wearing, settled her debts, and buried the people who made her life miserable. Until then, I would observe, adapt, and make sure nothing held me down.