Only the Prologue is in 3rd person's PoV. The Chapters are in the main characters' PoV.

~

"Harder!" She yelled at the duo sparring in front of her, her voice ringing with authority, reverberating across the empty forest. She didn't use an Alpha command, but the two guys obediently pushed themselves to their limit, wanting to beat the other, and prove themselves to their Alpha.

The chilly morning air whipped across her, caressing her cheeks with their icy fingers. Her fiery red hair — which was usually tucked into a neat ponytail — blew in a flaming curtain, framing her face. A few rebellious curls teased her cheeks, tickling and curling around her neck. She would otherwise be extremely irritated and shove them in a bun, but being in the company of her two close confidants, she felt like she could be herself for a few minutes.

"My grandma could punch better than you." She taunted them, raising an unimpressed brow. This egged them on further and they huffed and puffed, throwing well-aimed blows at each other, trying to get the other one down.

She checked the box 'Agility' under both the men's names across the assessment sheet attached to the writing pad, she held. She then looked up to observe the next quality, 'Speed.'

The early morning sunlight that usually pierced past the canopy of trees and bathed everything in its orange glow, was absent today, with the thick blanket of dark clouds blocking it instead. She didn't mind the coldness, she enjoyed it actually because the coldness matched herself. The gloomy weather resembled the perpetual aura of darkness that always seemed to surround her, smothering her and suffocating her with its gray-black walls.

Contrary to popular belief, she didn't try to get rid of the darkness. She knew that she was born with this curse, and she was destined to be the way she is for the safety and the protection of her pack.

She embraced it actually and had long since stopped hoping for some miracle to happen, for something or someone to come and save her from herself.

She is the way she is.

Just then, the taller man threw a right upper-cut, his fist slamming hard into the shorter one's midriff. He moaned low in pain, and his back crashed brutally to the muddy ground in the impact of the blow. The taller man blew his knuckles and stood erect, with a small, but a rare smile of satisfaction gracing his stoic features.

"Alpha." He nodded, waiting for her cue.

She nodded back and slid her graphite-colored eyes to the thick cover of the forest; in the direction of the habituated territory, indicating that he is dismissed. He gave a small ritualistic bow and turned around to leave, but then she called his name.

"Jonathan?" Her voice was hard; sharp like the edge of a pointed blade.

"Yes, Alpha?" He responded as he turned around, his tone professionally polite.

"Is the Western boundary well guarded?" She questioned, and the Head of Warriors knew immediately what her actual question was. Considering her rivalry with the Kyler pack and the huge fight that took place in her school the previous year with the other pack's Alpha and his cronies, her constant worry that he might try to stir something up, was justified.

"Yes, Alpha. If there are any sightings, I'll be sure to inform you." Jonathan acquitted, assuring his Alpha. He was the best Warrior in their Pack, in the country itself to be accurate, just like his father, and his. Jonathan knew that his Alpha was under a lot of emotional turmoil, dealing personal with issues unknown to anyone — except maybe her friend, the Beta — and he strived his hardest to be the best and take some of the weight off her position.

His Alpha nodded, but the calm in her expression told him that his perfection in his duties was well appreciated by her, even if she never acknowledged it. He felt another smile take on his features as he departed with a nod, to carry on with his responsibilities.

Once Jonathan was out of hearing range, she knelt down slowly beside her moaning best-friend — at least she hoped he still considered her that — gazing at him in silence.

She knew that something was wrong with him — that something was bothering him; because he was one of the best fighters and it was very unusual that he lost. Jonathan was very good too, but his skills were limited to the skills of an extremely trained soldier. But her best friend was an all-rounder and knew how to play dirty, and didn't go down without a fight.

That is why she enjoyed the morning private training sessions with her Beta, Delta, Warriors, and Trackers because these men and women were the epitome of what one would call egotistic, with their adamant personalities refusing to let them accept defeat as easily as a normal Wolf would.

"Are you alright, Ezra?" She asked, and for the first time in a long time, her voice was laced with a tiny bit concern, unlike the usual, when she would be all brusque and business-like.

Ezra glanced at her with slight surprise, and a tiny grin stretched across his handsome features. She didn't have to admire him or drool over him to agree that he was one of the best looking guys she knew. Despite what anyone might speculate, their relationship had never taken a turn in that direction and it never would, either. After all, so many years of companionship had turned it similar to one of the siblings.

"Yes, Alpha." He replied in his deep drawl, but she could detect the lie in his words.

She hated that the one person she loved had to call her 'Alpha', but then again, she was the one who threatened him to stop calling her by her name. She knew that she shouldn't love him — even if it wasn't romantic — that loving him would only hurt her in the end, because everybody's bound to leave at some point in life, but she just couldn't help it.

Ezra Harland was the half-Saudi Arabian, half-Brazilian boy who'd come up to her boldly and had befriended her when everyone else was intimidated by her in the third grade. And even if she had drifted away slightly, that incident had cemented a strong basement to a friendship that was the only thing holding her together at times of extreme hardships.

"You know that I hate liars, Harland." She snapped, her tone circuiting back to its razor sharpness. This only surprised her, because, even if her tone was neutral, her words were a little too personal for the professional Alpha-Beta relationship she liked to maintain.

"It's nothing." He growled back and they got into a staring match. That was a big mistake on Ezra's part, as you were not supposed to growl at an Alpha, and you don't stare them down disrespectfully.

They continued to glower at each other for a few seconds and when her gray eyes flashed blue for a second — indicating that her inner beast was flaring — Ezra backed down, sliding his eyes down in submission. This sated her Wolf and she placed one hand on his muscled arm in a rare moment of affection, dissolving his resolve.

"What is it?" She prodded once again which only seemed to surprise Ezra. She knew she was being uncharacteristic, but hey, she didn't like seeing her always cheerful best-friend in a mood. Which never happens.

"Okay, okay! I'll tell you. It's just . . ." He averted his cerulean orbs, and she could sense that he was embarrassed about something. "It's just—I want a Mate, okay? I'm seventeen, I've been waiting for a whole year. Every time I see a Mated couple, I feel this . . . this longing, this need to be with someone, to love someone for real instead of all these meaningless nights, but I just — ugh. This is way too sappy for me!"

She knew very well what he was talking about. She was the same age as him, but unlike her friend, she didn't expect to find that someone who will love her, cherish her and all that other emotional stuff. That's because she knew that she was unlovable. She can't love, and can't be loved. She was content being an Alpha and spending the rest of her existence being the best—albeit, the most feared—in what she is.

That didn't mean that she didn't want a Mate. Of course, she did. She had just stopped hoping to find him.

"Don't worry. You will find her. Soon." She said, and with a reassuring squeeze to his arm, she stood up, dusting her track pants.

But being her friend for so long, Ezra knew that she didn't just brush off the dust, but also the entire conversation between them. She would then go back to pretending they didn't have a heart-to-heart and tune in to Alpha-mode, and he would be forced to play the role of responsible Beta.

She had taken only a few steps in the direction of the mansion when Ezra's voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Are you alright, Seneca?"

Seneca froze in surprise, her mind short-circuiting and for a second, she felt like all her walls were stripped bare, exposing her empty soul. She was afraid that he might see her for what she really is, the inhuman and the heartless monster, and all she wanted was to escape before she did something stupid; something like breaking down.

Goddess, Seneca. He just called you by your name. Cut the crap.

But the truth was, no one had dared call her 'Seneca' in her entire life except him.

She turned around abruptly and he almost stepped back at the way her eyes were blazing, at the power and intensity in them.

"I am." She lied fluently and turned around as she struggled to maintain her composure, rushing in the direction of her residence.

~

Seneca breathed out slowly through her nose, relishing the feel of hot water cascading down her body in tiny rivulets, soothing her tired muscles. The pleasant feeling appeased her, and her jumbled feelings due to the earlier argument slowly went back into the small boxes she'd organized them under.

She had to remain strong and unruffled by anything, for, if she were sad or hurt, the entire pack might feel it through the link. She usually guarded her emotions well and made sure she didn't let them flow through the link, but one can never be too careful.

Under that hot shower, as she relaxed, her thoughts slowly drifted back to the way she'd come to live, the way she'd kept everyone at arm's length. She knew that an Alpha was supposed to rule her people with love and compassion, but according to her, a just and fair rule was more than sufficient.

She'd been Alpha for only a year — 364 days and 3 hours to be exact, today being the anniversary —but the weight of her position made her feel ancient, like she'd grown at least a 10 more years older. At 16 years of age, with her barely pushing through high school, she'd been put into a crucial position to accept the title after the death of her father, with no choice but to accept. Being the proud daughter she was of Alpha Zuerien Mordecai, she'd accepted it, and challenged herself to make her ancestors feel proud.

And proud she made them feel.

That is, they would be if even one of them were still alive.

The moment she had taken over the title, she'd been heavily criticized by all the other people — Alphas included — but after one particular incident which ended up with more bloodshed than she thought was possible, everybody had witnessed her strength, clearing all their doubts about her gender. If they still had any, they were too scared to voice them.

Fine by her. She could only do so much.

But all this wouldn't have been possible, were she not the Alpha of the most loyal Beta anyone could find.

The thought made a ghost of a smile shadow her lips, and she stepped off the steaming shower, turning it off. She quickly dried herself and stepped into her usual attire, plain dark jeans, and a tee-shirt. She then brushed and blow-dried her mass of curls, tying them up in a neat ponytail.

She did a once-over at her appearance in the bathroom mirror and felt satisfied.

That's it, She looked professional, yet casual. Kind of.

She pulled on her 2 inch, flat-heeled combat boots, and made sure that they were free of any lint or dirt. That was the one thing she liked the most about dressing up. Her boots.

Call her a girly girl, but she had a soft spot for all things boots. She had a huge collection of them. Only black, brown or gray, of course.

And don't ask her about the few white and peach colored ones she owned. They were buried deep enough in her closet that she would never see them.

With one last satisfied glance in the mirror, Seneca exited her room and traipsed down the stairs to her office; which was on the left corner of the house. She'd made sure to keep it on the ground floor so that she could rush out easily in case of emergencies.

On her way, she heard two low knocks and the heavy sound of it indicated that it was the front door. One of the maids let the person in and she was curious at the sudden visit from the young blond man she knew was named Ignazio.

"Alpha." He proffered a dignified nod. He extended his hand out and she was surprised at the sight of the envelope she'd been longing to see for days, clutched in his hands.

She accepted it with a well-practiced mask of neutrality on her face, hiding the nervous flutter of her heart, and the queasy drop in her stomach. She ushered him out, eager to open it and know the results she'd been waiting for.

The second the door closed behind him, Seneca tore open the envelope, pulling out the ivory-colored paper, and her eyes flew over the embossed text faster than humanly possible.

Then again, she wasn't human.

Period.

'Dear Applicant,

We are sorry to inform you that your application to the University of Hill bridge has been rejected . . .'

"Fuck!" She cursed, startling the maid who was placing her morning cup of tea on the coffee table. She looked at Seneca in fright and rushed inside, practically running to the kitchen in fear.

As if she was going to kill her.

Sigh, Who can blame her when everyone thought the same?

She shook her head and focused her wandering thoughts back to the rejected application in hand. The word 'Rejected' made her feel an overwhelming sense of disappointment and regret in herself. Ever since she'd been a kid, her dream had been to attend the University of Hillbridge. Her parents had gone there, her grandparents had gone there, and it had been instigated in her to go to the same college.

She'd worked hard to get a place in the #1 educational institution, with not a detention slip or black mark on her record, but she'd narrowly missed her goal. All because of that one person she liked to not think about. Even before applying, she'd had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn't get into it because of the huge black mark on her name after what he'd done, and that had only been confirmed in that letter.

But what could she do, when fates seemed to play against her?

Now, She only had two other options.

1. She could go to another college, destroying all her hopes and dreams.

2. She could redo her final year of high school and make sure her principal sent a sparkling recommendation letter without 'violent and deadly' entered in as a side remark.

After minutes of contemplation, she chose the option she knew she inevitably would.

Guess she had to repeat her senior year.

Greenville High, here I come, she thought with a roll of her eyes.

It was going to be so much fun.

Note the sarcasm.

Prologue: Rewritten and Edited.

. But she's done with High School. I mean . So it's without skipping a grade where I come from, if you've been just . Sorry for anyone who's confused.

I meant freshman year of COLLEGE ABOVE. I was 18 when I finished my freshman year of . LMAO.

(The kind of misunderstandings that arise are funny😂)

Another version of the trailer, above!

DEDICATED TO , BECAUSE THEY WERE MY FIRST READER.