The cafeteria smelled of deep-frying oil, disinfectant, and a hint too much adrenaline. She stood at the entrance with her tray, trying not to look like a newcomer—even though it was obvious. New face. New name on the list. New scent in the air.

She had no idea that it was precisely this scent that was causing a stir.

Cherry blossoms in the summer rain. Soft. Light. Pure. And for werewolves, as clear as a loud cry in the silence.

Cole smelled it first. His spoon froze in midair. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze wandering around the room, searching for the source.

"Please tell me this is a joke," he muttered.

Jace looked up, then at his brother. One breath was enough.

"Shit." Nothing more was needed.

The room began to change without her noticing.

Students turned away. Some stood up. Others stared at her openly. Some wolves gasped quietly, as if their bodies were instinctively reacting to something their minds couldn't yet comprehend.

She didn't see it. She only felt it. A vague uneasiness. A tingling sensation in the back of her neck.

Her gaze wandered to an empty table at the back—two boys were sitting there. Unmistakable. Unapproachable.

Cole—with wild, unruly hair and a look that could destroy things. Jace—clean-cut, calm, alert. The two radiated an unmistakable presence. No one sat with them. No one dared.

But she... was new. She knew nothing of the unspoken rules. So she just went over.

"Is this seat free?" she asked kindly, perhaps a touch uncertainly.

Cole eyed her like a hunter eyeing his prey. Jace raised his eyebrows slightly—not out of arrogance, but out of genuine interest.

For a few seconds, no one said anything. The cafeteria suddenly grew quieter. Only cutlery clinked softly.

Then Cole replied—roughly, amused, and somehow... tense.

"If you dare."

She laughed softly, thinking it was a joke. And sat down.

The moment she sat down, everything changed.

A pack instinct swept through the room. Restlessness. Whispering. Confusion.

A boy in sports clothes almost dropped his tray. A girl held her hand over her mouth. A teacher took a step back—then forward again, as if she had seen something unheard of.

And yet she didn't understand any of it.

She took a sip of apple spritzer and gave the two boys a slightly hesitant smile.

"I'm new here, by the way. And to be honest... pretty lost."

Cole laughed softly. Not mockingly. More... overwhelmed.

"You have no idea what you just did."

Jace looked at her sharply. His voice was calm, controlled.

"You're human, right?"

She blinked.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Of course I'm..."

Then she faltered. Not because she understood. But because Jace's gaze had changed. Because Cole leaned forward, as if he wanted to memorize her scent once more.

The voices around them grew louder. Whispering. Judgmental. But no one spoke to her.

Only one word kept coming up.

"Mate."