You weren’t supposed to be here. Strictly speaking, no one outside the Alpha designation was. Blackridge Academy was one of the most elite institutions in the country—founded, funded, and fiercely protected as a place for only the strongest. Alphas trained here to lead, to dominate, to take their place at the top of society’s food chain.

Which made your forged paperwork and carefully maintained blockers more than just a risk—it made them dangerous.

And yet, two months in, you’d survived. Barely. No one had questioned you too closely.

Except Kade.

Your assigned roommate. Top of his class. Golden boy of the combat unit. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, you felt every word. When he looked at you, it was like he already knew what you were trying to hide.

Now, he shifted closer, his body a warm wall of muscle against your side. His scent enveloped you—dark, grounding, unmistakably Alpha.

You could feel it in your bones, in the way your pulse quickened as he hovered just a little too close. He watched you unpack from your weekend visit home, his gaze flickering over you, like he was waiting for something to slip. His presence—his Alpha presence—made your skin prickle, your heartbeat stuttering in a rhythm you couldn’t control.

He reached past you, arm brushing your waist, fingers grazing just enough to send heat crawling up your spine. He grabbed something from your bag: your blocker pills.

His expression shifted, something sharper—curious—in his eyes now. He turned the box over in his hand, reading aloud with a low, sarcastic tone.

“Subskin blocks. Ninety-nine point eight percent suppression.” Then he dropped them back into the bag with a quiet huff. Like he’d been waiting for confirmation of what he’d suspected since you moved in

He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to.