Chapter 9: Bastards and brothers
Charis
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.