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THE ALPHA I REJECTED IS MY ROOMMATE

THE ALPHA I REJECTED IS MY ROOMMATE

Nova Greyveil was born to lead her pack, and to prove it, she beat every fighter her father threw at her, only to be told her future is a marriage deal she never agreed to. Marry the Alpha King. So she rejected him and disappeared. Disguised as "Ash Darvin", she sneaks into Vordrak Academy, a ruthless all-male training ground where alphas are built, broken, and buried. One slip means exposure. Exposure means death. She thought surviving Vordrak would be the hard part. Then she meets Caden Voss. Cold. Precise. Dangerous. The academy's strongest fighter and the only one who keeps looking at her like he can see straight through the mask she's wearing, and to top it off, he is her roommate. The longer she stays, the harder it gets to hide. Not just her identity, but what his presence is doing to her. Because in Vordrak, secrets don't stay hidden. And neither does desire.
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Chapter 8

CADEN He'd seen nerve before. Vordrak attracted it. Every intake had at least one wolf who mistook audacity for ability, who confused being unafraid with being ready. They lasted about four minutes in a real trial before the ground taught them the difference. He'd watched Ash Darvin drop two opponents in under three minutes combined and call his name across a silent training ground without blinking. That wasn't nerves. He didn't have a word for it yet. "Voss." Drax looked at him across the ground. Not asking permission. Checking his read. Caden uncrossed his arms and walked forward. Behind him, the trainees broke into sound all at once, sixty wolves recalculating everything they thought they knew about the morning. "He's lost his mind." Someone to his left said. "Challenging Voss on day two. Who does that?" "Thirty seconds. Maybe less than that; that is what I give him before Voss finishes him. Someone laughed." Caden stopped in the centre of the ground and looked at the wolf standing across from him. Ash Darvin. Both feet planted. Hands loose. Weight slightly back. Caden ran his eyes over the stance the way Drax had taught him at sixteen, what they'd been taught.  What he saw didn't match a packless freshman from a regional merit intake. Not even close. "You sure about this, kitten?" he said. "The bar's set pretty low," Ash said, "if this counts as crazy." One person in the watching line laughed. Then silence. Caden rolled his right shoulder and moved forward. ********************************************************************************* He went easy first. Not condescending. Diagnostic. He wanted to see where the training broke down, where instinct swallowed technique, where the real ability ended and where she was lacking in combat. The instinct didn't take over. Ash slipped his first grab clean. Not scrambling out of it. Reading it two beats early and simply not being where Caden's hand expected. He adjusted. Went lower. Got a grip on the jacket and felt the weight shift under his hands, and then Ash had turned inside the hold, and for one half second, Caden's own balance became the problem. He reset. Stepped back. Looked at Ash. The training ground had gone quiet in a different way than before. Before was the quiet of people waiting for something to end. This was the quiet of people watching something they hadn't prepared for. He came again, faster, and Ash met him instead of slipping; took the contact; redirected it; and they went back and forth across the dirt in a string of exchanges that each answered the one before it. Every adjustment Caden made got read. Every opening he created got ignored, like Ash already knew it was a setup. Caden hadn't worked this hard in a trial in two years. He got the takedown on the next exchange. Clean. Ash went down on one shoulder, and Caden had the arm locked and his knee in the dirt before the dust settled. Stillness. Then from the ground, flat and unbothered: "Are you going to stay there or let me up?" Caden looked down. Ash looked straight back up at him. Grey eyes. No fear in them. Just genuinely, completely unintimidated, lying in the dirt with one arm locked at a bad angle, looking at him like this was a mildly inconvenient pause in the conversation. Something moved in Caden's chest. He didn't know what it was, and he didn't examine it. He let go and stood up. Ash was on both feet before he'd fully straightened. Rolled her shoulder once, checking the joint, and turned back. "Again." "You're down one." "I know," grey eyes steady. "Again." His wolf pressed forward. That low restless push it did when something had its attention and wouldn't let go. He put it back down and moved. This time, Ash came straight at him. Inside his reach before Caden had his weight set, and for three full seconds, they were pressed together, chest to chest, close enough that Caden could feel the difference in how this person was built under the uniform. Something that didn't sit right against every other body he'd grappled in four years at Vordrak. Something his hands registered, and his wolf lunged toward all at once. He didn't have time to pull that apart. Ash shoved him off his chest, swept his left leg, and Caden hit the ground. He lay there for one second. Grey sky above him. Dirt under his palms. The training ground went off without a hitch. Sixty trainees all at once, Drax calling the point over the top of it, Rhen's voice somewhere in the chaos, saying something that got swallowed entirely. Caden got up. Ash was two feet away. Not celebrating. Not playing to the crowd. Just watching him stand with those grey eyes and that expression, she still hadn't cracked. "One each," Ash said. Caden looked at the dirt on his jacket. He could feel his wolf at the surface now. Pushing. Insistent. He kept it back. Not now, he doesnt need it to finish this. "Your footing slipped on the sweep," he said. "You know it did." Ash looked at him. "I know." "I don't want to win because you tripped." The words came out before he'd cleared them. "That's not a real victory." A beat of quiet between them while the training ground noise went on around them. "Then stop testing me," Ash said. Low. Just for him. "You've been at sixty per cent since this started. We both know it. Come at me like you mean it or don't come at all." Caden stared at this wolf. Day two. No pack. No name anyone recognised. Standing in front of him with dirt on one shoulder and a split lip that was already closing, telling him to stop holding back. His wolf shoved forward hard enough that he felt it in his jaw. And underneath the cold and the sweat and the dirt, underneath sixty other wolves and the mineral smell of old ground, he caught it again. That scent. Wrong and right at once, familiar in a way he couldn't place, pulling at something in him that had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with something he hadn't figured out yet. This close, it was stronger than it had ever been. This close, it was almost a problem. Drax's voice cut across the ground. "Last round. Finish it." Caden didn't move his eyes from Ash's face. "Yeah," he said quietly.    

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