Emily At An All Boys Werewolf Academy!

Settling in.

Emily's pov

I entered the dorm building without looking back. I did not regret it. Damien Forber, second son of the alpha king, was my fiancé. Like I mentioned earlier, it was all pre-arranged because of my childhood persistence in wanting to marry the alpha king—before he even became the alpha king. The mating ceremony, where I’d officially be his chosen, would take place once I turned 18 and met my wolf. To me, just like the rest of the family who thought I was joking about the alpha king, I’d thought the same about his son; I didn’t want him, and neither did my brother.

In fact, my brother had been very vocal about his dissatisfaction with the arrangement as soon as it was announced to the public. The reason was simple, really: Damien was a total ass. Protected by his titles as prince and by his father, the alpha king (a.k.a. king of the country), he did everything wrong, but in the public eye, his dirty laundry never reached the front page of Scotland's hottest newspaper—thanks to the royal family's grip on the media. However, my brother and I weren’t fooled. I’m a great judge of character, and Prince Damien was a mama’s boy with the inflated ego of an alpha, flaunting it like the feathers of a peacock while actually being a complete wuss—a coward.

As for my brother, he had connections everywhere, so he’d uncovered all the hidden dirt on Damien within a day after the king’s verbal decree that I’d be Damien's chosen mate. And he was unimpressed. Since then, he had been trying to break off the engagement. Knowing the alpha king and the royal family's greed, we saw they had two options in all this, especially with my brother’s growing popularity: they could either tie my brother to their family by using his twin sister—me—through marriage, or remove him as a threat if he became an obstacle. That’s why I suspect the royal family; their hand keeps showing up in every puzzle piece I try to fit together on my brother's case.

Walking up the last set of stairs, I came to the floor I’d been assigned. I stopped at my dorm apartment and entered. Reo was already inside, setting down the last of the bags I had left outside. I placed the one I was carrying next to the rest on the floor and immediately took out the spare key from my brother's room to check which room was his. But it didn’t work. Both doors wouldn’t budge; the key didn’t match the holes. I frowned. What was going on?

“Uh, Ms. Emily, why are you using the wrong key?” Reo asked, and I turned to him. “What do you mean, wrong key? This is the spare key I got from my brother. I asked to live in his room, BWA345,” I answered matter-of-factly. I wasn’t usually the type to reveal myself, but I felt I could trust Reo. He looked like a complete baby, oblivious to the world’s treachery, and like I said, I’m a great judge of character.

“Uh, Ms. Emily, this is BWA 312, and your room is BWA312A, that one over there.” Reo pointed at a room on the far right of the well-spaced apartment. BWA312?