I ended up in Dormitory Block C. Top floor. Room B.
I knocked tentatively on the door before using my key. The room was larger than I’d expected, with six beds arranged along the walls and a central common area that had a long sofa and a coffee table.
Three of my roommates were already present, unpacking their belongings and talking and laughing among themselves.
I lowered my gaze, carrying my backpack, the only belonging I had come with, and moved to the last bed at the end of the room.
"Well, well," one of the boys said when he spotted me, setting me on edge immediately. "Look what the cat dragged in."
The other boys looked up from their unpacking and turned to me, their faces creasing into smirks. I wasn’t surprised that for people who didn’t know if they would finally become first-years, they were already showing signs of bullying, a lot of Alpha’s sons were raised that way.
"Let me guess," one of the boys continued, his name tag read Phil Whitmore, Red Moon Pack. "You’re the bastard from Duskveil."
Another boy snorted with amusement. "Makes sense. Look at those clothes. Probably got his acceptance through charity."
"I heard from everyone sitting around him at the Assembly Hall that he was reeking so bad that they had to close their nose."
I didn’t flinch at their insult. I was used to being around Alpha sons. I’d faced worse than this from Darian. So, words couldn’t hurt me–not anymore. When I reached the empty bed at the end of the room, I dropped my backpack on the bed.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Phil approaching.
"What’s wrong?" he pressed. "Cat got your tongue, bastard boy?"
I said nothing. I began unpacking my few belongings. Since I didn’t have much, I tried to go slowly, for want of something to do.
"Ignore him, Phil," one of the boys said, and came over to take Phil by the hand. "He’s not worth your energy."
Phil and the boy returned to their corners. The taunting continued for several more minutes until we were complete. I focused on arranging my belongings, ignoring them.
The sound of rustling behind me made my stomach twist with fear. I turned slightly, just in time to catch one of the boys pulling off his shirt and his pants while another was undoing his belt.
They were talking about taking a shower.
My face heated with horror as I spun around to face the window. I hadn’t thought this far when I decided to become a boy that I would have to deal with seeing a lot of naked males. I gripped the edge of my bed, hoping I was acting normal. If they sensed something was off, that might be a problem.
To make matters worse, I still hadn’t peed yet. I glanced at the bathroom door, but it was blocked. Two of the boys were now lounging half-naked in front of it, towels over their shoulders and briefs, but making no move actually to shower.
Minutes passed by, and the boys showed no signs of heading to the shower. They joked. They laughed. They threw socks at each other. One was even doing push-ups on the floor.
I pressed my knees together, trying not to think of peeing. My forehead was covered with beads of sweat at this point. If I didn’t go soon, I might wet myself.
One of the boys was talking about the riches of their pack and how they taxed other smaller packs in their region, when suddenly the room fell silent.
Surprised by the sudden change in the atmosphere, I slowly looked up from my spot on the bed to the figures that stood at the door.
One of the faces looked familiar – it was Peter, the guy from the train station. The other person, however, wasn’t someone I knew.
Peter spotted me instantly. He walked over to me with a grin on his face.
"Riggs?" he chuckled. "We meet again. You didn’t tell me you had a brother."
I scrambled to my feet, immediately giving him a polite bow. "I’m sorry, it must have escaped my mind."
"So, this is the bastard?" The other boy standing next to Peter inquired, and Peter nodded in response.
"This is our Student President," Peter informed me. "When he heard you were related to Slater, he said he wanted to see you, so I brought him here."
"Pleased to meet you, sir!" I muttered, lowering my gaze to show humility.
"What do you think?" Peter turned to him with a smile. "He’s different from our Slater. We would have lots of fun with him."
"Yeah," the student President nodded with a smile on his face, then took a step towards me. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Eamon Riggs," I replied, wondering why he wanted to know that.
"Nice name, Eamon. You can call me Marcus, and from henceforth, you’ll be under my mentorship. Pack your bags, you won’t be staying here."
"What?" I raised my head entirely to look at him.
"There’s an empty room in my quarters. It’s yours," He said.
"What? I don’t understand. I was assigned this room, isn’t..."
"Don’t be , Eamon," Peter interrupted with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "The Student President hates repeating himself, and if you don’t want to get on his bad side, then do as he says."
"B-but we were told this morning that we need to complete the Orientation Program first before we find our mentors."
"Who said so?" Marcus asked.
"The First-year coordinator," I replied.
"Don’t worry, Eamon," he reached for my jaw, jerking my face up. "I know the rules, I made them. It’ll be fine. As Student President, I have the authority to mentor promising new students personally, and you show lots of potential. This might also give you a higher chance of actually being accepted as a first-year student here."
The way he said the word ’potential’ made my skin crawl, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.
Then, he dropped his hands and turned to Peter. "Take him to my quarters and see that he settles in well. I’ll catch up later."
Then he paused, looking back at me.
His eyes slide over my body in a way that made my heart resume its anxious pounding. Hunger, not curiosity, burned behind them. I’d seen that look in Darian’s eyes two nights ago when he’d tried to force himself on me.
This had nothing to do with mentorship.
I clutched at my shirt, wondering if my cover as a girl was slowly slipping away.
After he left, Peter came to stand in front of him.
"You heard him, pack up. We’re moving you."
When I’d chosen Ravenshore as my shelter to escape my ill-fated life, I thought it would be all sunshine and rain, that the only thing I’d have to worry about is hiding my identity, but it’s been less than forty-eight hours since I arrived here. My life has been more colourful than a rainbow.
When I didn’t move to do as Peter instructed, he turned to the two boys at the bathroom door, who were nearest to us.
"Hey, you two, come help pack his things."
Phil and his stocky friend from before rushed to the bed without saying a word. They began stuffing my belongings into my backpack without bothering to fold them as I had done.
"Wait!" I said, finally finding my voice as the boys finished packing and stepped back.
" I-I don’t think I’m supposed to—can’t we speak to the first-year coordinator? Or the Dorm Captain? They said we get to choose our mentors. I—"
Peter turned to me, narrowing his eyes.
But it didn’t stop me from continuing desperately. "I like it here in the dorms, and I don’t think I deserve this honour from the Student President."
"I don’t care what you were told," he snapped. "The Student President wants you in his quarters. You go. That is the only protocol you need to worry about. Now move."
He reached for my hand.
I stepped back instinctively. "Please. Just give me a minute. I—I need to inform my brother first—"
He grabbed my wrist, and when I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip, yanking me forward. I was no match for his strength, so he started dragging me towards the door.
"Don’t make this harder than it has to be," he hissed.