Defiant Princess Chapter 4
FORD
Apparently,older students are prioritized for single rooms. As one of the oldest undergrads, I'm given an unexpectedly swanky private room in the east turret.
The space is circular, furnished with a plush yellow couch, an overstuffed chair, a desk, and a full bed. I make the bed with sheets and a comforter Natalie kindly had sent over from her office-along with school supplies, a few extra pairs of jeans, and swim shorts I wouldn't have thought to purchase even if I had spare cash, since we always swam n**e back home-and move to stare out the window at the quad.
I'm not sure if I'm grateful for the privacy or resent it.
It's going to be harder to form connections isolated like a princess in a tower, and I suspect some of the other students might resent the fact that a complete newbie scored such a sweet piece of real estate. It's a suspicion that's confirmed when I start down the hall and a blond guy with a shit-eating grin shouts, "Hey there, Grandpa! Heard the old fart with the sweet room was moving in today. Welcome to Lupine!"
His tone is good-natured, however, so I smile and play into the nickname, "Glad to be here, son. Now get the hell off my lawn."
The kid laughs and lifts a hand for a high five on his way by. "Trevor," he says. "Freshman class."
"Ford," I reply, stopping to chat. "Also a freshman, just an old as f**k one." I drop a little of the planned backstory about my lumber career and Trevor high fives me again.
"Sweet, man," he says. "I wanted to take a gap year and make some money or backpack through South America, but there was way too much drama in my old pack, so my mom made me come here." He shrugs. "But it's cool so far. And this dorm is sweet as hell. Have you been to the movie room in the basement?" I indicate that I haven't, and Trevor adds, "Dude, you have to check it out. It's like a whole theater. With reclining seats and a popcorn machine and everything. The wolves who graduate from Lost Moon give back like woah." He leans in, adding a softer voice, "Makes me glad I wasn't born a jaguar or whatever. I mean, the girls in the big cat dorm are hot as hell, but we can always invite them over to our place, right?"
"Right," I say, adding with a wink, "Especially if you're lucky enough to have a single."
Trevor laughs and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in, a*****e. See you around? A bunch of us are going running in the woods tonight after the luau mixer thing. It's a new tradition, a club they're starting just for wolves. They call it a brotherhood, but girls are welcome, too. And old guys." He grins, making it clear he's never going to get tired of this joke. "You should come. We're meeting out back by the dumpsters after lights out."
"Sure, yeah, I'll think about it. Thanks for the invite," I say, visions of the bodies I tossed into a dumpster not long ago flashing through my head as we part ways.
No matter what kind of "drama" Trevor's fleeing back home, I doubt he's ever tossed a corpse into the trash. He seemed like a pretty decent, easy-going kid.
He also didn't seem to be holding a grudge against the other houses. Gratitude for being born a wolf and the associated benefits isn't the same as prejudice. And he's clearly been checking out the girls in the big cat dorm.
It gives me hope that maybe Alexander and Catherine were exaggerating. Maybe this isn't a case of wolves against the world. Maybe it's only a few bad apples souring the cider. And maybe those bad apples can be taught to mind their manners if we decent wolves work together to present a united front.
Somewhere deep inside, I realize I'm being stupidly optimistic, but for some reason I feel at ease here. Maybe it's the luxury and comfort of the dorm or the relaxed vibe of the student body so far.
Or maybe it's the fact that I came my brains out this morning and the o****m-stunned synapses have yet to fully regenerate.
Don't think about that. You'll regret it.
I absolutely will. If I think about Juliet's mouth on mine and her hand fisted on my c**k, I will start giving off an energy-and a scent-I don't want to spread around on my first day in a new place.
I'm already the grandpa. I don't want to be the horny grandpa. That's not a good look on anyone, especially someone who hopes to lead this dorm to a kinder, more inclusive mindset.
No one wants a pervert for a leader.
Pushing thoughts of Juliet to the back of my mind, I head down to the common room and library Natalie showed me on her grand tour. There were a number of people gathered there earlier and it seems like a good place to start taking the temperature of the other residents of Lupine. And then there's that run tonight.
My initial instinct is to skip out on anything that keeps me up too late or involves running around in the woods with teenagers, but that's my inner grandpa talking, the part that would rather stay in and sneak Juliet upstairs for an extended tour of my new single room. But violating the "no overnight guests" policy on my first day probably isn't a good look, either.
"There he is," someone hisses as I step into the common room, where the two-story, floor-to-ceiling windows on one side cast the posh seating areas in bright morning light.
The air smells of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls mixed with old books and body spray. Shifters, in general, tend to avoid perfume-it's too intense for our sensitive senses of smell-but apparently the men around here do things a little differently.
But not that differently, a fact proven by the four large guys swaggering toward me from the other side of the room. Their energy is very Old School Alpha. They are predatory, intense, and clearly intend to take my measure and put me in my place. Which means I may be on my way outside for a full-on brawl mere minutes after settling in.
If they want my "place" to be anywhere but at the top of this particular hierarchy, I'll have to fight them. If they're the kind of wolves who play fair, they'll face me one at a time, giving me a few minutes to catch my breath in between. If not, they'll gang up on me in an attempt to eliminate another Alpha they see as a threat to the established order.
Neither option sounds like a good time.
"Hey there, friend," the tallest guy says, baring his teeth in a fierce imitation of a smile. "We were wondering if you'd show before orientation started tomorrow. You're the last man in and I confess, I had my eye on your room." He thrusts his hand out. "Beck. Senior transfer." "Ford." I grip his hand, increasing my pressure to match his until we're squeezing the shit out of each other, but I seem to have a slight edge. "Old as f**k freshman."
"Freshman?" The shorter, but thicker, man behind Beck with his brown hair pulled into a bun, snorts. "Dude, did you fail every grade or something?"
"Nah," I say, still clenching Beck's hand nearly hard enough to crush the bones. "Had a career first, but decided I was ready to switch things up. Get a fresh start. This seemed like a good place for that. The last members of my pack died when I was in middle school, so there's nothing holding me back home."
Beck's grip loosens a bit. "Same for my dad, man. His pack got wiped out in a forest fire when he was just a kid. Bleak as shit. Took twenty years to rebuild everything, even with a ton of money and support from my grandmother's pack."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, loosening my grip in kind. "Nothing can replace family, but it's good to be back among wolves again."
It's pretty soft as dog whistles go.
I half expect it to go unnoticed, but the hidden message is clearly received.
"Hell yes, it is." Beck lowers his voice as he steps closer, his grip starting to feel more like an offer of friendship than a challenge. "We wolves have to stick together. If we don't, they're coming for us. For our women, our territory, our resources. Everything." "Our whole way of life," Man Bun says, summoning grunts of agreement from the other two men.
Or boys. Upon closer inspection, they're obviously much younger than Beck and Man Bun, just kids really. Kids who are eager to follow these two down the path to vilifying the rest of the shifters on campus...
I make a non-committal sound, not wanting to agree with him, but also not wanting to alienate these men. I want them to feel comfortable speaking freely, for now, and I need time to find my real allies. If I'm jumped by four or more shifters-who knows how many followers Beck has-I would benefit from backup. I'm strong and skilled, but at the end of the day I'm also just one man.
"I was under the impression wolves were the largest population on campus," I say, adding with a wry smile, "Isn't that why we have the biggest dorm?"
"We're the biggest single population," Beck confirms. "But lumped together, the big cats and the f*****g special-needs Variants outnumber us."
Well, that was ugly. There's nothing "special needs" about Juliet. She's smarter than all four of them put together, and in a gun fight, I'm pretty sure she could put a bullet through the lot before they had chance to take aim.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.
"Which is bullshit," Man Bun adds. "That doesn't reflect the reality of the outside world." He jabs an arm toward the windows. "Out there, wolves outnumber all other shifters at least ten to one. It should be the same in here. Letting more of their kind in than ours isn't fair."
I grunt, knowing my argument that more of "them" are probably accepted because more of them are in danger on the outside-often from packs of wolves who like to terrorize other shifters-wouldn't be well-received.
Instead, I force a laugh and say, "Yeah, I hear you. But as long as we're the toughest, I'm not too worried. We are the toughest, right?" I glance down at mine and Beck's joined hands. "So far, you guys seem in good shape. I used to train cage fighters up in Alaska. Looks to me like any one of you could hold your own in the ring."
It's an addition to my backstory I didn't discuss with Natalie or Juliet, but it feels harmless enough. And it's a good way to shift the conversation.
"For real?" One of the young guys perks up. "Dude, you must have some stories."
"I do," I reply. "And some training tricks. We could hit the gym this week if you want. I'll share my secrets for maintaining flexibility while you bulk up. It's flexibility that keeps you from getting hurt, not strength."
The young guy looks to Beck, who's studying me closely. For a second, I think he's going to put me on his shit list and doom me to a first day spent kicking a*s and licking my wounds, but then he nods. "Yeah, that would be cool." He releases my hand and claps it on my shoulder. "Let's make a training plan tomorrow, as soon as we know the schedule for the first week of orientation."
"Sound good," I agree, nodding toward the refreshment area at the back of the room. "Any of you up for a cinnamon bun? I thought I'd grab one before heading out to look around."
"We already ate, but get one, and we'll catch up with you later," Beck says. "They're f*****g incredible. From this little bakery in Quebec City. Oh, and this is Jason, Drake, and Bunny." He reaches out, ruffling Man Bun's hair. "Cause he's so cute with his hair tied up." "My name's Ferris, man," Man Bun says, swatting Beck's hand away. "You're just jealous because my hair is luxurious as f**k."
"Nice to meet you guys." I smile and lift a hand as I move away. "Thanks for the welcome."
"Yeah, of course," Beck says, holding my gaze as he backs toward the door. "Always happy to meet like-minded people."
He doesn't say "and happy to beat the shit out of those who disagree until they learn to keep their mouths shut," but it hangs silently in the air between us, making me think Beck isn't as sold on me as he's letting the rest of his posse believe. Either way, I'll be watching my back with every single one of those guys, as well as the men and women smiling at me in approval as I move toward the cinnamon buns.
Sadly, the Wolves First contingency seems to make up a good seventy percent of the people gathered in the room, and the people who aren't thrilled with my easy entry into the Alpha-approved club keep their eyes down. It could be that the open-minded people are simply avoiding this part of the dorm and leaving the cinnamon buns to the Alpha-holes, but I doubt it. If there's one thing all wolves have in common, it's a hearty appetite.
We go where the food is, no matter who we have to put up with to get it.
As if to prove my point, I spot Alexander in a window seat not far away, watching me with a jaded smirk as I fill my coffee cup.
He's alone and the chairs at the card table closest to him are empty, as is a cushy-looking armchair with a killer view of the quad. Maybe there's a reason aside from his sister's Variant status that people are avoiding him. Maybe he's a d**k or took a bath in skunk juice this morning, but I doubt it.
Looks like he and Catherine were telling the truth, and Natalie is either deeply deluded about the reality of life here. Or she was lying to us the entire time.
Snagging a cinnamon bun in a napkin, I decide to forget the coffee and go find out. Right now.