Chapter 142: Charis returns...
Charis
My name is Charis Greye.
But seven months ago, I buried that name. Six months ago, I became Eamon Riggs—a boy who never truly existed. I was a disguise stitched together with forged paper, cropped hair and a half-truth that swallowed my real identity.
And three months ago, I died.
At least, that’s what the world believed.
The Academy buried Eamon Riggs in a coffin. Students wept, whispers spread, and my death became the punctuation mark of a scandal I had no hand in. But the truth is rarely what the world thinks it is.
The truth is: I lived. And today, I’m coming back—not as Eamon, not as the daughter of an Alpha who let everyone and every situation dictate her worth, but as Charis Greye Knox. I am still Alpha Silas’s daughter and at the same time, the ward of Isolde Knox.
And no one, not even my father, not even Vale, not even the Moon Goddess herself, will ever bury me again.
The black car rolled to a stop in front of Ebonvale Academy. Its imposing architecture, a mix of modern and contemporary styles, caught my eye.
I watched as students walked into the Academy with their best friends, stopping to say goodbye to their parents and the school porters, who struggled with the mountain of luggage each girl had brought.
A few months back, I had walked through the gates of Ravenshore with my hair cut short and a binding across my chest. Now my hair flowed freely past my shoulders in waves of blonde. My dress uniform hugged my form, accentuating all my femininity.
I was still learning to be Charis Greye, heir to one of the most powerful Alpha bloodlines, ward of the mysterious and wealthy Isolde Knox and no doubt the most beautiful newcomer Ebonvale has seen in years.
How did I know that?
The stares!
Over the past three months, after getting my wolf, every day had come with a strange transformation. First, it was my hair. I am a natural platinum blonde, but now my hair shone like a diamond.
My skin was as white as porcelain, so that someone could almost see their reflection in it. I’d added two inches more, and my curves were more accentuated and pronounced. I’d been worried about all these changes, but Isolde showed me a book about dire wolves, and I realised that all these changes were normal.
Direwolves were regarded as the mermaid of the werewolf world. Their beauties were unrivalled.
"Are you ready, darling?" Isolde’s voice drew me from my thoughts.
She stood beside me in an impeccably tailored coat, her scarred face serene and covered as she surveyed the academy grounds. Over the past months, she had become the mother I’d never had. She was protective, supportive, and dedicated to helping me discover my true potential.
The transformation hadn’t been easy. Helping me gain my self-confidence, teaching me to speak and carry myself with the poise expected of an Alpha’s daughter, and helping me control my emotions so I’m not an open book.
’A woman should always be mysterious’ that was one of Isolde’s anthem. The less anyone knows about you, the more power you have over them.
All of it had required extensive training. But Isolde had been patient, hiring the best tutors money could buy, ensuring that when I finally present myself to the world and be born again, I would be ready for anything.
"I’m ready," I said, and meant it.
We walked through the gates together, and I couldn’t help but notice the way conversations paused as we passed. Students turned to stare, some with curiosity, others with the kind of appreciation that made my cheeks warm.
"My God, who is that?" I heard one girl whisper to her friend.
"New transfer student, apparently. Did you see that car she arrived in?"
"And that woman with her, she’s got to be worth millions. Look at that coat."
"She’s gorgeous. Like, movie star gorgeous."
"Whose Alpha daughter is she?"
The whispers followed us across the courtyard, but I kept my head high, my steps measured and confident. Isolde had taught me that in situations like this, perception was everything. Show weakness, and they would devour you. Show strength, and they would respect you.
We made our way to the administration building, where a harried-looking coordinator was busy shuffling through paperwork at the reception desk. He looked up as we approached, his expression shifting from boredom to poorly concealed surprise as he took in our appearance.
"Good morning," Isolde said smoothly. "I’m Isolde Knox, and this is my ward, Charis Greye. I believe you’re expecting us."
The coordinator—his nameplate read "Mr. Peterson"—fumbled with his files before finding what he was looking for. "Ah, yes. Miss Greye. Transfer student from... private tutoring, I see. Your academic records are quite impressive."
They should be. Isolde had spared no expense in ensuring my education over the past months had been comprehensive and rigorous. Languages, advanced mathematics, supernatural history, pack politics—I’d absorbed it all.
Soon, I would be the heir to Isolde’s multi-trillion-dollar empire, and she didn’t want an amateur taking care of her wealth after she was gone.
"If you’ll just wait here a moment," Peterson continued, "I’ll need to get final approval from our Vice-Principal. This is... somewhat irregular, admitting a student mid-way through their second year."
He disappeared through a door marked ’Private,’ leaving Isolde and me alone in the reception area. I used the time to study the surroundings with new eyes. The oil paintings of former headmasters, the trophy cases filled with academic and athletic achievements, the bulletin boards announcing upcoming events, it was as Ravenshore had been.
Several minutes passed before Peterson returned, looking uncomfortable.
"I’m afraid there’s been a slight complication," he said apologetically. "Headmistress Vale will need to handle your admission personally. She’s... she’s asked to see you immediately."
Isolde’s expression didn’t change, but I felt her tension through the bond of trust we’d built over the months. We both knew that Vale was dangerous, that she was connected to the very system that had tried to destroy me. But this confrontation was inevitable.
"Of course," Isolde said graciously. "We’d be delighted to meet with the Headmistress."
We exited the building and went to the car. Despite being the headmistress for both Academies, Vale still preferred to stay in Ravenshore.
When we entered the car, I felt Isolde looking at me, and when I turned, a gentle smile was on her face.
"You can choose not to go see her. I can go on your behalf," she said warmly.
"No!" I shook my head. "I’m fine, and I can handle Vale and Ravenshore. I’d have to face them at some point, you know."
"And if you run into the boys?"
"First, I won’t run into the boys; secondly, no one can easily recognise me now. You yourself saw how desperately they tried to search for me two months ago and gave up. They’d probably forgotten about me."
Isolde regarded me quietly before turning and signalling to the driver to move.