Chapter 2

　　~Solange~

　　"Please," I said to the lady. "Just… one single room. I'm begging you. I can't do this with roommates."

　　The woman, middle-aged, looking like she'd heard every sob story twice today sighed and flipped a page without even glancing up properly.

　　"Look, Lange," she said, like my real name was just paperwork to her, "we're at full capacity. Everyone's doubled or tripled up. You got assigned Room 317 with the three seniors."

　　I took a step closer, eyes stinging, chest so tight the binder felt like it was crushing my lungs on purpose.

　　"I don't care if it's good," I said, words tumbling out faster than I could stop them. "I need to be alone. I need privacy. You don't understand, I can't… I just can't share. I'll pay extra, I'll sleep on the floor somewhere, anything. Please."

　　She finally looked at me. One eyebrow went up, slow and skeptical.

　　"Pay extra?" she repeated. "With what, your first-year stipend? And no, you can't sleep in the hallway. Rules."

　　My voice dropped to almost nothing, shaking so bad I could barely get the words out.

　　"I'm not asking for special treatment," I whispered. "I'm asking because I'm scared. I'm not used to sleeping with others."

　　She paused. Her face softened a little, but only for a bit. Her voice stayed firm.

　　"Kid," she said, "I get it. First year's rough. But the system's locked. You're in 317. End of story. Go unpack before they start without you."

　　I backed up one step. Then another. A small, bitter laugh slipped out of me before I could catch it.

　　"Great," I said, voice breaking right in half. "Just great. Three guys. Three. I'm so screwed."

　　She shrugged, already turning back to her clipboard like I was just another name crossed off.

　　"Welcome to Lupine, Lange, weird name by the way," she said. "Door's that way."

　　I stood there another second, throat burning, eyes hot, everything inside me screaming run, go home, quit now while the rest of me knew I couldn't. Not after everything.

　　I shoved the door open to Room 317 and immediately wanted to turn around and run straight back to the bus station. My palms were sweaty enough to slip off the handle, but I forced my face into something that might pass for bored instead of terrified. The voice modulator around my neck buzzed against my skin. Lange Voss. That's who I was now. Not Solange. Not the girl who'd spent the last three weeks practicing walking with wider shoulders and talking like her throat was full of gravel.

　　Three guys. Three. Not one roommate I could maybe avoid. Not two I could maybe outsmart. Three guys who looked like they could snap me in half if they ever figured out the truth.

　　The biggest one…. Ryker, I remembered from the roommate list, was hanging from a pull-up bar bolted right across the doorway. Shirt off. Sweat rolling down his back. Muscles flexing every time he pulled himself up. He didn't stop when I walked in. Just kept going, slowly and controlled, like I was interrupting his personal gym session.

　　I cleared my throat. "Hey. I'm Lange Voss. New roommate."

　　He dropped to the floor with a thud that rattled the bunk beds. Turned. Looked me up and down like I was a stray dog that wandered in. His eyes were dark, almost black, and something in them made my stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with fear. Or maybe everything to do with it.

　　"You're late," he said. Like he was already annoyed and we hadn't even spoken ten words.

　　"Bus was slow," I muttered, dropping my duffel on the empty top bunk. The ladder creaked under my foot when I tested it. Great. One wrong move and I'd face-plant in front of them.

　　Jaxon was the next one to speak. He was sprawled across the bottom bunk closest to the window, laptop open on his stomach, fingers tapping so fast I couldn't follow. He didn't sit up. Just tilted his head and grinned like he'd been waiting for someone to bully.

　　"Fresh meat," he said, dragging the words out. "Cute."

　　I froze halfway up the ladder. "Excuse me?"

　　"Cute," he repeated, slower this time, like I was hard of hearing. "As in, you look like you'll cry if someone yells at you. Adorable. We're gonna have fun."

　　Ryker snorted. "Don't scare him off on day one, Hale."

　　"Too late," Jaxon shot back. "He's already shaking. Look at him."

　　I climbed the rest of the way up and sat on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling. "I didn't ."

　　Jaxon laughed out loud. "Oh, you definitely did, little guy."

　　"Stop calling me little guy," I snapped.

　　He raised both hands in fake surrender. "Fine. Big guy. Massive guy. Goliath. Better?"

　　Ryker rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel from the back of a chair. "Ignore him. He talks to hear himself talk."

　　"Someone has to fill the silence," Jaxon said sweetly. "You two are about as chatty as bricks."

　　The third one hadn't spoken yet. Kael. He was at the desk in the corner, back to us, hunched over a stack of journals so thick they looked like they could stop bullets. He didn't turn around when I came in. Didn't acknowledge the chaos. Just kept writing something in the margin of whatever he was reading.

　　Then, without looking up: "Your entrance scores. Perfect on the physiology section. Explain the rogue-bite antibody curve under double lunar exposure."

　　I blinked. "What?"

　　He finally turned his head. Just enough so I could see one eye behind his glasses. "You heard me."

　　Everyone went quiet. Even Jaxon stopped typing.

　　I swallowed. My brain scrambled for the answer I'd memorized months ago. "The curve flattens after forty-eight hours because the secondary metabolite spike gets suppressed by the second moon phase. Most texts stop at the primary response. They're wrong."

　　Kael stared at me for three full seconds. Then he nodded once. "Correct."

　　Jaxon whistled again. "Holy shit. Brainiac's got brains."

　　Ryker crossed his arms. "Lucky guess."

　　"Not luck," I said, sharper than I meant. "Study."

　　Ryker's jaw ticked. He didn't like being contradicted. Good. Neither did I.

　　Jaxon slammed his laptop shut. "Clinic shift tonight. All four of us. Try not to faint when you see blood, Lange."

　　"I won't faint," I muttered.

　　"Famous last words," he sang.

　　The rest of the afternoon was me unpacking and dodging Jaxon's nonstop commentary.

　　"You always unpack like you're scared the clothes will bite you?" he asked while I folded shirts.

　　"They might," I said. "You never know."

　　He laughed again. "See? Cute."

　　Ryker kept pacing. Every time he walked past my bunk he glanced up, like he was checking if I was still there. Or maybe checking if I'd grown a second head. His scent kept hitting me in waves. Smoky like perfumes, something angry and warm at the same time. It made my head fuzzy. I hated it.

　　Kael stayed at his desk. And didn't talk unless he had to. But every time I answered one of Jaxon's dumb questions he'd make this tiny huff, like he was judging me silently.

　　By six we were herded out to the clinic wing for the mandatory shadow shift.

　　The senior doctor on duty was a tired-looking guy named Dr. Marrow who clearly hated first-years. He barely looked at us.

　　We went back home and all of a sudden, "Something's off about you, Lange," Ryker said.

　　My heart slammed so hard I thought it would crack a rib.

　　"Yeah?" I managed. "Like what?"

　　He didn't answer right away. Just kept looking. Then he shook his head once and turned away.

　　Jaxon flopped onto his bed. "He's just grumpy because the moon makes him horny and there's no one here to take it out on."

　　"Shut up, Hale," Ryker snapped.

　　Kael closed his journal. "Shut up, both of you. Some of us need to sleep."

　　I lay there staring at the ceiling, pulse roaring in my ears.

　　They didn't know. They couldn't know.

　　But Ryker's words kept echoing.

　　Something's off.

　　Yeah, everything was off.

　　And the moon wasn't helping.

　　I pulled the blanket over my head and prayed they wouldn't hear my heart trying to escape my chest.