THE ALPHA I REJECTED IS MY ROOMMATE

NOVA

The scissors were cold.

Nova grabbed her ponytail, pressed the blade against it, and cut. Clean. Fast. She didn't watch the hair fall. Watching it fall meant letting it mean something, and she was done letting things mean something they weren't allowed to mean.

She grabbed the binding cloth off the edge of the sink, pressed it flat across her chest, wrapped it tight, and tucked the end. Her ribs compressed under the pull of it. Good. She needed that. Something physical to focus on instead of replaying the look her father had given her three days ago in front of every wolf in the Greyveil Pack.

Not anger. Not even disappointment.

Nothing.

Like she'd handed him a report he already knew the conclusion to.

She stared at the face in the cracked mirror above the basin. Jaw sharper with the hair gone. Eyes the same pale grey as they'd always been. Her mother's eyes, people used to say, and then stop talking, as if the observation hurt them.

Daughter and heir of Alpha Casen Greyveil. That title should mean something.

She picked up the small dark vial from the sink ledge. Cass had pressed it into her palm last night without a word, which meant she'd already decided to help before Nova had finished explaining. That was Cass. Disagreed loudly, helped quietly.

Nova tipped two drops onto her wrists, her throat, and the hollow behind each ear. The scent bloomed for a half second, something green and faintly bitter, then disappeared entirely. She inhaled. Nothing. She smelt like an empty room.

Perfect.

She pulled on the loose grey training shirt, shoved her feet into worn boots, picked up the single bag she'd packed, and took one last look at the mirror.

The girl who'd stood in that training yard three days ago and dropped seven men into the dirt was gone. The woman, whose father had waved off away like a fly, was gone.

What stood in their place was a lean, flat-chested, short-haired freshman with nothing to lose and a name that belonged to no pack in the region.

"Ash Darvin," she said out loud. Her voice hit the tile and came back steady. "That's all I am."

She walked out and didn't look back.

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Three days ago.

The Greyveil training ground had smelt like wet dirt and blood and the specific sweat of men who believed they were going to win.

Nova had fought all seven of them based on her father's terms for her to be worthy of Alpha. Beat every challenger he named, and she'd take her place as heir. No back doors, no exceptions. A straight line between effort and result, which was the only kind of deal she'd ever trusted.

Roen came first. Twice her weight, five years older, and so certain of the outcome that he hadn't even set his feet properly before she moved. She put him down in ninety seconds. Callum went next. Then the three younger males