CH 1-10

Summary

On my sixteenth birthday, everything changes. One moment I’m your below-average girl—the next moment, I’m a monster. A werewolf. As a danger to society, and with my parents’ refusal to help me, I have no other choice but to go to the werewolf place. Nothing prepares me for what waits for me inside the Academy of the Moon. Not only do I learn that the horrid tales I’d been told about werewolves were not true—but that I am different from the others. This results in my being a scapegoat for condemnation. What’s even worse is that the boy who marked me might be a murderer. He’s on the loose. Will he come back for me? Am I turning into an evil beast, like him? And then, there’s Elijah Ledger. The future alpha—a gorgeous werewolf who appears to be bearing dark secrets from everyone. I’m drawn to him. But he’s a magnet for misfortune, and his secrets start to unveil themselves. While I’m dealing with an array of problems, including a jealous girl who can’t stand my newfound attention from Elijah—one by one, students are getting attacked at the academy. The big question is: who is it? And why are they doing it? Things get ugly—and I am caught in the middle of it.

Chapter 1

The golden hour of a Friday afternoon is meant for freedom, not for staring at a water-stained ceiling tile in room 301. I twist in my seat, burning a hole onto Luca Greene’s forehead with a look that should have disintegrated him. He must have felt my glare, because he glanced up slowly, fingers tangling into that obsidian bird’s nest on that head of his as he offered me a lopsided, very unapologetic grin.

He knows this is his fault.

And he also knows as well as I do that he’d do it all over again.

Damn him. I bare my teeth and flip him off.

“Hailey Woods,” Mrs. Whit barks. “You have earned yourself another Friday detention with me.”

I groan, slumping back in my seat, but not before catching one last glimpse of Luca’s infuriating, punchable grin. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Whit,” I mutter, gripping the sides of my desk, its surface littered with cursive doodles. Most of them are mine—cute animals and blossoming flowers sketched in colored ink, an attempt to pass the time in the endless slog of boredom.

Tilting my head up, I offer Mrs. Whit my best dejected look, a long chestnut curl falling into my face and tickling my nose. I blow it away, my carefully constructed façade faltering for a split second before I sweep my hair back and resume the act. With my big honey-brown eyes, I know I’m good at pulling it off.

It’s a pity that the one teacher immune to it happens to be the one hosting detention today.

Mrs. Whit has a stern, pinched expression, her russet-painted lips set in a tight line as she looks at me through her oversized glasses.

“Go on, and we can make it every Friday for the next month,” she continues. “You’ve gotten away with your nonsense for way too long.”

I bite back the retort bubbling in my throat and force a smile instead. “It wasn’t on purpose. I’ve had a bad day.”

Mrs. Whit arches an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sneer. “Haven’t we all?”

“It’s my birthday today, and my parents forgot,” I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. That part, at least, is true.

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “As much as that sucks, and as much as I empathize with your unfortunate circumstance, I’m not responsible for your happiness, Miss Woods. Nor is it in my control how you decide to act during class and what you choose to do with the school rules. What counts for one student counts for everyone else, whether it’s their birthday or not.”

I sigh, leaning back in my seat. “I wasn’t looking for a way out of detention,” I lie. “Just wanted you to know I’ve had a bad day.”

A sharp laugh escapes from Luca, and my hand curls into a fist. I am so going to get him back for this.

I mean—it’s his fault I’m in detention in the first place. I was minding my own business during English when he, for no viable reason, decided to stop by my table and gawk at me like some kind of freak.

No, seriously.

He didn’t say anything—just stood there, staring, like he was possessed or something. And then, out of nowhere, he grabbed my arm, dragged me close, and bit me.

He freaking bit me!

I didn’t provoke him.

I’ve barely spoken a word to him before today, and somehow I’m the one in trouble for defending myself? How is that fair? Isn’t the school supposed to protect students from being harassed?

Ugh.

Kelsey, my nemesis since kindergarten, shoots me a smirk. Unlike me—who has never had detention before in my life—her favorite pastime is anything that stirs up trouble for others. I was hoping to evade her this session, but of course, luck isn’t in my favor today.

The second Mrs. Whit glances down at her trashy romance novel; Kelsey tosses a crumpled piece of paper at me. I pick up the note and straighten it.

Guess whose mommy I saw getting into the car of a married man?

I sigh and grab my pen. I should’ve seen that one coming. Mom has a drinking problem—and an even bigger problem when it comes to men. Dad’s just as bad. He couldn’t care less what she’s up to, so long as she stays out of his way.

And they never fight, which sounds like a good thing on the surface. But in reality? It’s not. The lack of care extends far beyond just their relationship. They don’t care if I’m late, if I skip dinner, or if I’m stuck in detention. Mom will sign my detention slip without a second thought while chatting on the phone with her bestie, and Dad will just grunt in response.

I press the tip of the pen to the paper and begin writing: I wonder what it’s like to be so bored that you rival for attention by making up stories. Your life must really suck.

I peer over my shoulder to pin Luca with a warning look before passing the note back to Kelsey. If he’s planning to rat me out, I need to ensure he understands he’s asking for trouble.

I’m done being a pushover.

I still can’t figure out what provoked him to get physical like that with me. Whatever stupid excuse he has—or doesn’t have—I’m going to get my revenge. Somehow.

Before I can dwell on it any further, a paper ball smacks me on the forehead. Kelsey barely stifles a laugh, her hand pressed to her mouth.

Mrs. Whit’s eyes flick up, pinning Kelsey with a glare before her eyes narrow back to her book.

I shoot Kelsey a scowl, unwrap the paper ball, and read the note: My life is perfect, thank you very much. As for yours—your mommy going home with other students’ married dads is disgusting. She must be getting paid much less than your basic hooker, considering the state of your trashy clothes. FYI: Better watch your back. I’ve got a lovely surprise in store for you.

I can’t hold back a snort as I write: Knock yourself out.

I toss the note back at her.

What I don’t write about is that I don’t care about my social standing. I don’t have a social status in this school, period. Kelsey has already made sure of that. I don’t have any friends here, and I don’t have anything else to lose. Well, except for my dignity, but she doesn’t need to know that.

This time, as Kelsey turns, I lift my hands to catch the ball of paper. However, her face contorts in pure horror instead. “Holy crap,” she shouts, drawing the attention of the entire room, including Mrs. Whit, whose mouth drops open.

“What?” I blink.

“Your eyes. Face—neck. Freak!” Kelsey lifts a trembling hand and points at me. “You’re turning into a freak!”

Mrs. Whit blanches. “Oh my.”

I frown, touching the spot on the side of my neck where Luca bit me. It’s hot and tender. “What?” I repeat, unable to form a more sensible, coherent comeback.

“Woods is turning into a werewolf! Oooh!” Pete, from the back of the room, calls out.

“Her eyes are glowing!” someone else chimes in.

The world around me swirls in a haze of disbelief and panic. No. No. No!

I plunge my hand into my backpack, feeling for my compact mirror. When I find it, I pull it out and flip it open. I glance at myself in the mirror, feeling like the floor is about to give way beneath me.

My eyes are glowing. A horrendous, unearthly blue has taken over the natural browns of my irises. My neck, where Luca bit me, is now marred with an ugly crescent moon tattoo that keeps pulsing with a sapphire gleam as inky veins creep across my skin.

I have the mark of the wolf.

This can’t be happening.

Frantic, I try to wipe the mark away, but it won’t budge. The werewolves call it “the gift of Diana,” but we regular people know it for what it really is: the end.

It’s my end.

When I finally manage to compose myself, I find my nemesis staring at me as if I’m a monster. The room has fallen silent to the point where you could hear specks of dust hitting the table. Maybe it’s my imagination?

My eyes flick toward the golden specks illuminated by the sunlight. Each time a tiny particle bounces against my desk, I can hear it.

What. The. Heck.

There’s an audible intake of breaths when I spring to my feet, my legs quivering. I half-stumble toward Luca’s desk. “What did you do to me?”

He watches me impassively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This,” I snap, lowering myself and slanting my neck toward his face, pointing at my eyes.

“Whoa,” he leans back. “That’s one intense tattoo you’ve got there. Nice contacts, too.”

I scowl, straightening up. “Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t there earlier. It showed up right after you practically manhandled me in English. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Get rid of it. Now.” I grab his arm. “And don’t pretend like you don’t know. Everyone knows about them. Everyone knows what happens when…” I suck in a sharp breath, struggling for words. “Everyone knows what happens when you get… marked.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Luca states, pulling his arm out of my grip. “I can’t do anything about that. You’ve been chosen, Hailstorm.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snarl. “And don’t give me that ‘chosen’ crap. Undo this, now.”

“I can’t,” he shrugs again. “The spell was sealed by our great ancestors.”

“Ancestors?” My brows furrow, and I shake my head. “What crap are you even babbling about? Whatever, I don’t care. Get rid of this ugly thing on my neck!”

“Nope, that’s all I’ve got, Hailstorm.” He casually pushes back his chair and starts gathering his things. He doesn’t say anything until he’s slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Would you look at that?”

I turn to see what he’s referring to—the clock, I think. It’s a quarter past four.

“Looks like detention is over,” he smirks, patting my shoulder. “The Academia of the Moon is calling your name, little pup.”

Just like that, he spins around and walks out of the classroom.

Mrs. Whit is the first to break the earsplitting silence. “Hailey,” she croaks. “Would you like me to phone your parents?”

I swallow down the ginormous knot forming in my throat and shake my head. “No,” is all I can get out.

Ignoring the stares, I rush to my desk and gather my belongings with wobbly hands. I drop my pencil case. Twice. The third time I try to shove it into my backpack, I drop it again.

This time, I don’t bother with it. I leave it there, zip my backpack shut, and fling it over my shoulder.

“Hey, wait up! I want to see you turn into a wolf!” Kelsey calls after me, but I keep running. I don’t stop until I lock myself inside a cubicle in the girls’ bathroom and burst into sobs.

I try to muffle them with my hands, but anyone can still hear my cries.

---

I wait until silence fills the halls of the school as the last students leave, before I sneak out, heading straight home. But it isn’t without unsolicited comments and stares along the way.

I find Mom in the kitchen, slumped over the table with an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand. She keeps mumbling to herself, staring glassy-eyed into space. It’s clear she’s had more than whiskey this time.

A lump grows in my throat as I wonder how she’ll react to what I’m about to tell her. That is, if she even responds at all.

I used to think my life is terrible. Uncaring parents, no friends, and I go day by day adherent to the hope that when I turn eighteen, I’ll get to start a new, better life for myself—far away from all this unfairness.

I cling to my optimism, writing down my daily gratitude list and convincing myself that there are people out there worse off than I am.

My perks are: I get to go to school. We have a roof over our heads, albeit the atmosphere beneath it is as dead as a graveyard. My parents never fight, even though their relationship is broken. I have good grades—good enough to get a scholarship and build a vibrant future for myself.

None of those ‘ups’ mean anything now. No university will take in someone like me. There is no longer a way out, no bright future—only my doom. I will soon become a monster.

I will never escape hell.

“Hailey waily boo,” Mom croaks from the table. She turns her head to face me, her cheek pressed to the table. “Be a good girl and go to the liquor store for Mommy.”

I don’t move, waiting for her to notice my red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The unnatural glow of my eyes. It’s all wishful thinking on my part.

“Come on now, Hailey, it’s getting late. I’ve got cash stashed in my purse. I think I left it on the couch in the living room. You can keep the change. Buy some makeup or whatever you’re into.” Mom straightens up. “Your dad went to get us some Wendy’s. I can’t eat if I haven’t had a drink.”

My eyes fall pointedly on the bottle in her hand. I want to call her out for it, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“Mommy?” My voice cracks. I haven’t called her that in years, but I’m scared and crave her comfort right now. Somewhere, in those drunken bones of hers, there has to be some maternal instinct left. Right?

“Hurry up now, you can’t keep me waiting.” She stares at me for a moment, her face scrunching up as if she’s struggling to focus. “You should think about getting some makeup, honey. You look awful.”

I push down the stinging sensation expanding in my chest. “Mom, I need to talk to you,” I try again.

She picks up the empty bottle and presses it to her lips, tilting back her head to get the last few drops. When she slams the bottle down on the table, she sighs. “Come on, the clock is ticking.”

I cross my arms, staring at her in disbelief. “I said I need you.”

“I’m right here, so I’m not sure what you’re on about.” Her lips thin when I still don’t move, and she tips over the bottle. “Fine then.” Mom gets up, curses, and falls back into the chair. She tries again, almost stumbling over the chair in the process. “I’ll get it myself since my own daughter refuses to help me.”

“Can you, for five seconds—for crying out loud, not make it about yourself and listen to me?” I ask, pointing to my face. “Have you considered that maybe I look like crap because something bad happened to me? That I actually need my mom?”

“Stop being a baby. You’re not two anymore,” she snaps airily. “Aren’t you, what, almost twenty now?”

“Yeah? Great to know you don’t even know how old I am. Or that I still go to school.” Fresh tears threaten to spill. “I should have known you wouldn’t know what day it is today.”

Mom’s head snaps up, and she points the bottle in her hand at me. “Honestly, Hailey, what are you going on about? I know what day it is. It’s Thursday.”

“The fifth? My birthday?” I retaliate. “I don’t expect to get anything, but wow, it’d be nice to hear a happy birthday at the least. Or a hug. No, wait—you don’t do those either.”

Mom stiffens. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh, and by the way, I’m sixteen today. Not twenty, Mom.”

“So I forgot. I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear? Happy?”

“Wow, Mom. Just wow.” I shake my head, my vision swimming.

“You started by being catty,” Mom claps back. “Don’t expect me to be all warm and fuzzy when you act like a brat.”

“Well, then I guess you’ll be happy to hear I’m moving soon,” I announce. “I’ll be out of your way. Permanently.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me with your ‘I’m going to run away’ crap, you hear me?”

“I’m not running away.” I muffle a sob with my hand before I continue. “I got marked.”

Mom’s head tilts to the side. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I push back my hair to reveal the ugly, dark veins running across my neck and the crescent moon illuminating in sapphire blue. Then, I point to my face. It surprises me that she hasn’t noticed how different it looks. “I’m turning into a werewolf.”

The bottle Mom holds slides from her hand and shatters on the floor. She doesn’t move, but it seems like my words have shocked the alcohol right out of her. “W…What?” Her voice shakes as she speaks. “Oh no, no, no.”

Mom presses her palms to her forehead.

“I know, Mom,” my lips quiver. “They’re going to take me away to that horrible place.” As in where all the werewolves stay, get trained to be a monster, and do other vile things I don’t want to think about.

Mom drops her hands, and her eyes wide. “What is everyone going to say?”

“That I’m a freak?” I supply.

“You can’t be seen here.” Mom rushes past me into the hallway. She rips open the storage closet and pulls out duffel bags.

I follow her into the hall, stopping beside her. “Is that all you care about?”

“Goodness forbid, how can you be so inconsiderate to risk our lives by coming into this house? Here, take these. Start packing quickly. We need to get you out of here.”

My mouth drops open in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Mom halts, glancing up at me. “Of course, I’m serious. We can’t associate with a werewolf.” She spits out the last word like it’s something foul. “And what if you turn and eat us?”

I sigh, taking the two empty duffels she shoved at me. “As my mom, I thought you’d try to figure out how to get rid of the mark. Not throw me to the wolves.”

Literally.

Chapter 2

Disbelief and hurt twist together in my chest as I grapple with this painful new reality. I dig into the side pocket of my duffel bag, pulling out a pair of sunglasses, and slip them on to shield my eyes. Before leaving the house, I’d slapped on a thick layer of foundation and powder to conceal the worst of the veins crawling beneath my skin. No doubt, I look like some ghost making a feeble attempt to appear cool, but it’s better than letting anyone see the truth of what I’ve become.

A beast.

Fighting back tears, I twist around and start to walk.

The train station is dark and empty, except for an elderly man sitting by the ticket booth, reading a newspaper under a flashlight. The coffee and souvenir shop is still open. Since I haven’t had dinner yet, I head to the coffee shop for some food.

I order a hot dog and pick out a soda before sitting down on the closest bench outside the shop. I’m safer here, beneath the lights and the employees’ wandering gazes. Believe it or not, Mom gave me some money for food and enough to catch a train. I’m certain she did that to ensure I’ll be able to get as far from her as possible without any hiccups, though.

Now, I’ll have to figure out how to take care of myself. On the ride over, I pushed my luck and asked Mom if she could call the werewolf place. That is, if we could find out what it’s called, to ask them what I’m supposed to do next.

She yelled at me and told me I could contact them from a payphone.

I wonder if their number is even listed.

I sigh, unwrapping my hot dog and taking a bite. A shadow falls over the pavement, and when I glance over my shoulder, it’s one of the employees at the souvenir shop shutting the doors. An uneasy sensation stirs in the pit of my stomach. Soon, I’ll be alone, swallowed in complete darkness.

I peer at the man by the ticket booth. Will he be here all night?

Is it safe to assume he isn’t capable of anything devious?

I finish my hot dog and drink, grab my things, and search for the nearest payphone. With a bit of luck on my side this time, a phone book is right beside the phone on a stand. My hands shake as I pick it up and flip it open. “You can do this, Hailey,” I mumble under my breath.

For a fraction of a moment, I consider not reaching out. To take the money Mom gave me, stay at a cheap motel for a day or two, and try to find a stay-in job or something. What about going to a shelter? But then what? What am I going to do if I turn?

What if I end up killing someone and end up in jail? Or worse, executed? I’ve heard of that happening before.

I can’t find the place. I curse under my breath, questioning if the old man can help me until an idea hits me.

I pick up the phone book again and look up Luca’s number. It’s easy to find, as his family is the only Greene listed in the area. A woman, presumably his mom, answers with an upbeat, way-too-chirpy voice.

“Hi, um, can I speak to Luca? Please?” I inquire, hesitant.

Except for the pounding of my heart in my ears, the silence stretches. Then she says in a stiff tone, “A moment, please.”

I have no idea what warrants that response by asking for Luca, but okay. Whatever. I wait, listening in as a TV plays a toothpaste commercial in the background. There are also two people arguing before Luca’s voice comes on. “Hello, Hailstorm.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, not bothering to find out how he knows it’s me.

“Now, you wait.”

“What do you mean, wait? What if I turn into some horrid creature—which technically, I’m going to—and eat someone?” I rattle on in a raised voice.

There’s a sigh. “We don’t eat people, Hailstorm. If anything, of all the cultures and beings out there, we are the most peaceful. Our magic is in tune with nature. We can’t siphon it if we are dark.” He waits a moment then adds, “Well…In most cases, anyway.”

“Magic?” I squeaked. “What is that supposed to mean? And what do you mean in most cases? So, it is possible?”

“Exactly what I said. Magic. Did you really think you’re going to turn into some ungodly creature, eat people, and call it a day?” He snorts a laugh. “Doesn’t work like that. If it helps, this is a gift. So, don’t screw it up.”

“Gift? Are you insane?” I’m hysterical at this point. “Why me, Luca? Why? My life was perfect before you screwed it up. Before your stupid curse took everything away from me!” Technically, my life sucked, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Because, Hailstorm, our gracious moon huntress told me to.”

Luca leaves me hanging with, “Someone will reach out to you. You don’t reach out to them. That is, if you’re lucky and they don’t just leave you to die.”

I scoff. If I’m lucky, huh? Nothing about my whole situation screams luck.

I kick an empty can as I round the corner where an old, run-down ’Moel’ is situated, according to the flashing sign. The ‘t’ is broken out.

The desk clerk at the motel is a middle-aged woman squeezed into a too-tight leopard skirt and a pink crop top.

“Room four,” she says, chewing clamorously on her gum as she hands me the key. “Clean up your mess before you leave.”

She goes back to paging through her beauty magazine, ignoring me as I struggle to reopen the glass door.

“Thanks for the help,” I mutter under my breath when I finally manage to get out.

Room number four is a disaster. The bed is a tangle of rumpled sheets and pillows are strewn across the floor. A sour smell wafts through the air as greasy plates and half-eaten food cram the kitchen sink. The trash bin overflows with wrappers and empty cans. In the bathroom, the toilet sits unflushed, with a pungent odor stuck in the small space, and mildew creeping along the tile edges. It’s obvious the room hasn’t seen a cleaning in weeks.

After a frantic scrubbing spree, I discover that the TV is broken. Left with nothing else to do, I sink onto the floor beside the bed, bury my face in my hands, and cry.

At some point, I lie down on the floor, curling into a fetal position, wishing I could go back to this morning. Maybe if I hadn’t gone to school, I wouldn’t be here right now.

If only I had some way of knowing, I’d still have a warm bed and a place to call home. Even if my parents aren’t exactly model examples, I would still have hope.

I acknowledge that my current situation is detrimental, but I can’t come up with a solution, no matter how hard I try.

I don’t stop crying until somewhere past midnight, when my eyelids become heavy and I drift off.

---

A firm grip on my shoulder rips me out of the nightmare. One second I’m a monster with blood on my claws; the next, I’m gasping for air, my heart racing to keep up with my fear. Then I see them. Butterscotch eyes. They’re warm, inviting, and filled with a golden light that makes the horror suddenly feel a million miles away. The intensity in that gaze pulls me back to the present, steadying my hands before I can even realize they’re shaking.

“Hey, are you okay?” the gorgeous boy asks. He crouches down, holding out his hand toward me. His navy shirt’s long sleeves are halfway rolled up, revealing a partial tattoo peeking out beneath the sleeve of his shirt. My mind skips over what it could be, eyes snapping back to his face. “Why are you on the floor? Are you hurt somewhere?”

I open my mouth, but all that escapes is a shuddering breath.

I’m lost in the chaotic, yet beautiful map of bronze and gold—twinkling like sparklers against the dark.

I don’t know how long I stare, transfixed. Minutes. Hours. Hell knows.

Until eventually, I manage to free myself from them and process my predicament. I am fine for one moment–until I wasn’t.

He cocks his head to the side, seeming unsettled. “Are you struggling to breathe? Do I need to—”

A scream bursts from my lips, and I lash out at him, but he overpowers me.

He grabs hold of both my legs and pins them down. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”

A wave of calm washes over me again, choking out the sudden explosion of panic. It doesn’t make sense, but the fearful thoughts melt away as soon as they appear, and I find myself trusting him. Maybe it’s something in his eyes or it has to do with the fluttering sensation blossoming in my belly. My tense body relaxes, and I become still.

“Who are you?” I push out. “And what are you doing in my room?”

“If I let you go, would you promise not to kick me again?” he tests, the pressure of his hands on my legs slightly easing.

“If you’re not some psychopath, then no, I won’t kick you.” In the back of my mind, a voice screams that something is off about the situation. However, I shove it away with minimal effort.

His full lips curve into a smile. “If I were, you’d be dead by now.” He releases my legs and sits down on the floor in front of me. “But before we worry about anything else, are you sure you’re okay? Not having any weird side effects that need checking? It’s not every day I have to pick someone up from the floor.”

“Weird symptoms of what?” My brows furrow. “And I’m fine. As fine as I can be, I guess. I was, uh, not keen on sleeping in the bed.”

“Are you sure?” he presses. “Because last week we picked up another pup who died right after the change. It turns out he was allergic to his own wolf hair.”

My eyes widen, and I sit up. “You’re from the werewolf place?”

“As ever, we live up to our reputation.” A gilded brow arches, and he smiles. “And to answer your question, yes, I’m from the academy.”

I eye him. “You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Well, a shriveled-up old woman with a mustache.” I don’t know why I’m trying to joke, but a flicker of light amusement in my current situation seems fitting.

“Good to see you come packed with a sense of humor,” he chuckles. “But I’m part of the Moon Guardians.”

He says it as if it should mean something to me, which it doesn’t. I respond by deepening my frown.

“Of course you don’t know what that means. Being from a human family and all that,” he shakes his head, sighing. “Let’s just say it’s the werewolf equivalent of a student council at the academy. It’s our job to bring back new pups. You can see me as your recruitment officer, or whatever you humans call it.”

“You mean ‘you humans’ as in the past tense, right?”

He flashes a disarming smile. “Right, of course.”

“Sooo, what happens now?” I ask, trying to keep the unease from creeping into my voice.

He extends a hand, his gaze steady and confident. “You come with me.”

A strange sensation stirs in my chest—and a warning bell faintly rings in the back of my mind, but I force myself to ignore it. With scarce convincing from him, I gather my things and allow him to guide me out of the room.

“What’s your name?” I ask as we step out into the chilly night air, the neon motel sign buzzing above us. “And how do I know you’re legit? Not just some random guy trying to lure me into the woods for… who knows what?” My voice wavers as I try to keep a light tone, but the suspicion lingers beneath my words.

Look, he’s freaking beautiful, but I’m not stupid. Or am I? Why am I following him then?

Again, my thoughts dissipate as he grabs one of my duffel bags, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m Elijah. Elijah Ledger, but my friends and family call me Eli.”

“Right. So, Elijah?”

He expels a low breath, setting the duffel down, then pulling up the sleeve of his navy shirt to reveal the entire tattoo. It is a geometric moon symbol with a wolf paw print in the center inked on his arm. “Happy?” He raises a gold brow. “Mine’s a bit different from everyone else’s marks, considering my dad is the alpha.”

“Alpha, as in leader?” I pry.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“So he’s like a king to wolves?”

Elijah sputters a laugh, nodding. “I guess you could say that.”

“So.” I give him a sideways look. “Why is the prince out looking for a peasant?”

“I’m part of the Moon Guardians, as I mentioned.”

“Okay, but aren’t you more important compared to the others?”

“As long as my dad rules, not really,” he replies. “Guess you could say I’m a backup alpha if something happens to him. Which is unlikely. Nothing can kill that stubborn old fool.”

“You don’t seem to be close to him.”

“Not that much, no,” Elijah sighs. “But enough about me. Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“My mom dumped me at the train station, so I stayed here hoping one of you would come for me.” I pause, granting him a dubious look. “How did you know where I was? Did Luca tell you?”

“Luca, who?” He rolls his sleeve back down. “No. I used magic and my senses to track you.”

“You said our marks look similar.” I redirect the conversation. “Mine doesn’t look anything like yours. Not even close. Mine’s surrounded by creepy veins and looks like weird symbols are forming in it. It glows, too. Like my—wait, are my eyes still glowing?”

“Like a spotlight.” His eyes narrow onto my arm, covered by my jacket’s sleeve. “Can I see it? The dark veins are normal, by the way. It passes, so don’t worry.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I push back my hair to reveal my neck. “Mine almost takes up my entire neck.”

“Your neck?” Elijah’s eyes jerk up from my arm. His face contorts in shock. He swoops forward and grabs my shoulder. “What the hell?”

My brows shoot up. “What? Is there something wrong with it?”

His gaze meets mine. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“What do you mean?” Anxiety swells in my chest. “This isn’t normal?”

“No, it isn’t.” He steps back like he got burned. “How exactly did you get marked?”

“Luca,” I falter. “I was at school, doing, well, what you do at school, when he grabbed me and bit me on the neck. That’s how it happened.”

“Luca?” Elijah pulls a face. “I don’t recall any recruiters by that name.” He shakes his head. “And what weirdo bites you on the neck? Unless he’s your boyfriend?”

“Hell no.” My eyes stretch wide. “Wait—does this mean I’m not like you? Could it be some kind of prank?”

“No, you’re definitely one of us.” He gives me a sideways look. “I can sense the wolf in you. Quite strong, even for a pup.”

I stare down at my feet, doubtful. “Maybe something went wrong when he marked me? You said we use magic. Does this marking process involve magic? And why is your mark on your arm?”

“Sort of. We siphon energy from the huntress. She’s the only one who can grant us the gift to mark. Actually, we only mark when she demands it.” He takes a step closer to me. “The marking process does involve biting, but by normal standards, it’s on the arm or, in some cases, the leg. If this Luca isn’t dating you, then he’s a creep for biting your neck. It’s too… personal there.”

“Great…” So Luca is unstable. “And the huntress? What do you mean?”

“Diana.”

“As in from mythology?”

“Yes, but she’s not a myth,” he replies. “Either she favors you a lot, or you’ve seriously ticked her off.”

I swallow, not sure what to make of this.

Elijah lifts his hand in front of him, flicking his wrist. A few frosty sparks dart from his palm, drifting mid-air, until they commence into a swirling motion in the form of a lifesize oval.

Not a moment later, a distorted mirror appear, revealing my stunned expression in it.

“What the actual crap? How did you–?” my voice comes out in broken gusts. “Why do we need a mirror?”

“That, Hailey, isn’t a mirror. It’s a portal that will take us straight to the Academia of the Moon.”

“Why do we need to go through that?” I wave a hand toward it. “Why can’t we take a car? Or a bus, or a plane, or anything… normal?”

The apprehension inside my belly explodes into full-blown panic. The moment I walk through that thing, every last bit of ordinary I have left will be nothing but a memory.

I peer at Elijah, sizing him up. He’s undeniably good-looking, and on a better day, I’d even flirt with him. He has that innocent boyish charm—the kind that always gets the girl home before curfew, holds open doors, and helps elderly ladies cross the street.

The question is, is it all a façade? Can I trust him? What’s waiting behind that portal? Is it the academy, as he claims? Or some place more sinister?

I don’t have many options. Everyone I know has abandoned me, and if I don’t go, I could end up slaughtering the entire town. That is, if I don’t end up dead first. My wide eyes turn toward Elijah.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a small red light flickers with intent, but I can’t pinpoint the reason behind it.

“Unfortunately, it’s the fastest way to get to the academy, and we don’t have much time to get back.”

“Time for what?”

“Before they send the hounds. If I’m out too long, they assume something went wrong and backups come running. Trust me, we don’t want that to happen.”

“Oh?”

Elijah inches closer, so close that his breath brushes my cheeks as he speaks. It sends a gentle shiver through my body. “The hounds are vicious.”

“I don’t like this.” I face the mirror. “What if I decide I don’t want to go?”

“I could leave you here. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to do that,” he shrugs. “But you’re a wild card, and I can get into a lot of trouble if I leave you here, knowing what I know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Which part?”

I roll my eyes. “Wild card. How am I one?”

“That interesting mark you’ve got. We need to figure out why yours looks like that, and we will need your neck to track down the guy who marked you. Lucas, or was it Luca, you said?”

I step back. “My neck?”

“Yeah, how else are we supposed to track the guy and ask him why yours looks like that?”

“You’re going to take my neck?” my voice echoes, and I take a few more strides back, sheltering my neck with my palm. “You’re not touching my neck.”

Elijah frowns before his face contorts into surprise. “Oh, no. That’s not what I mean. We’re not going to harm you—”

“I don’t believe you.” The calmness slips from my body like a veil getting ripped off, unleashing every ounce of panic I’ve lacked since the moment he showed up. “You did something to me.”

His shoulders drop. “I had to calm you somehow.”

“You used magic to calm me.”

“I had to. I could tell you were going to put up a fight.” He lifts a hand and reaches for me, but I take another step back. “I swear, we’re not planning to do anything harmful to you. We’re here to help you. If you run free, you could die.”

“How do I know it isn’t a story your people spun to lure us in?”

Hysteria isn’t pretty. I’ve never experienced it before, but I can tell you now that it exhausts you the second it creeps up. My thought process turns murky. I slip into an abyss of mind-numbing fear, my legs weighing tons and my body begins to tremble.

The only thing I can comprehend is that I need to run.

“No, Hailey—”

Elijah curses as I turn and make a beeline across the street, right into oncoming traffic—straight into the path of a speeding truck.

Before I can grasp the situation, large fangs sink into the collar of my jacket and jerk me back in time to avoid getting run over.

When I look up, I’m staring straight into the eyes of a gigantic wolf.

I scream.

Chapter 3

Everything blurs into a smear of light and sound. I’m trapped between a werewolf and a speeding truck—then the air sucked out of the world. I wait for the impact, for the end, but all I get is a surge of vertigo that sends me reeling. My knees buckle toward an ancient-looking floor, the smell of old stone replacing the scent of asphalt.

Elijah is there, back in his human form, catching me by the elbow. I shove him off immediately, my head spinning as I take in the high arches of what I think is a castle—or a tomb. Hell knows.

I’m hyperventilating.

Elijah tries to reach for me again.

“Stay back!” I choke out.

“You need to calm down,” he pants, out of breath.

“I told you I didn’t want to come here!” My voice bounces off the confines of the cavernous hallway. “Take me back. Now!”

“So you can run in front of another truck?”

“Anything is better than being here,” I scream. “Please, send me back. I won’t be a problem. I—”

A long whistle cuts through the air, followed by a snicker. “Another pup, Eli?”

My anger flares at the comment, then instantly folds as I realize I’m glaring at a chest that’s as wide as a doorway.

I don’t just take a few steps back; I retreat until I’m practically pressed against a wall. The guy is so tall that I feel like I’m looking up at a monument rather than an actual person.

He looks down at me with an expression that’s entirely too entertained for my comfort, making me feel smaller than I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Let me guess, you got this one from the suburbs?” the boy wonders.

“A motel.” Elijah expels a weary breath. “It’s not what you think.”

“Did you forget to use your enchantment?”

“I did use it on her. She somehow bypassed it,” Elijah gripes, heading toward me. “I need to get her to—”

Before he can finish, I lunge, sinking my teeth into his hand with all the strength I can muster. The taste of blood floods my mouth, metallic and sharp.

Elijah lets out a strangled cry, spitting out a string of curses as he wrenches his hand away from me, glaring with a mix of pain and shock.

The other boy doubles over in a fit of laughter, his booming voice echoing through the vast chamber. “This is gold, man! You’ve really got your hands full with this one.” He wipes away a tear, his mirth only growing louder as Elijah struggles to regain his composure.

“Shut up, Cass,” Elijah snaps, his eyes steady on me as I back away. “There’s no point in running. You can’t get out of the grounds. Stop making it so hard on yourself and come with me.”

“The hell I am,” I shoot back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The tall boy scratches the back of his neck, amused by my predicament. “You sure you don’t need help, Eli?”

“I can handle this,” Elijah retaliates. “Go get Humphrey. She needs to check this one out.”

“Why? Why not send her to the commons?” Cass inquires. “Give her some time to cool off, and she’ll figure out that no one here will try to eat her.”

“I can’t.” Elijah inches toward me. “I need to take her to Humphrey.”

“Why?” Cass presses further. “What’s so special about this one that she needs Humphrey’s attention?”

“It’s a long story,” Elijah sighs, glaring at Cass. “Can you just go? As in, now?”

“Fine, man,” Cass smirks at me. “Good luck chasing this one across the courtyard. I bet you fifty she’s going to outshine that Jaxon boy.”

Elijah murmurs another string of curses before he edges toward me, like he’s approaching a wild animal.

My heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest, and I have a feeling I’m about to do something irrational—not that anything about my circumstances is rational to begin with. “Why am I truly here?”

“Exactly what I told you. We’re trying to help you and figure out why your mark is different.”

“What’s it to you what happens to me?”

“Because if you run wild, you could become a danger to humans,” he explains. “You could die if you don’t know how to contain your magic or the change. That’s what the academy is for. It’s to help you manage all of it.”

“Why me?” my voice quivers. “I don’t get it.”

“I wish I could tell you why the huntress chose you, but I don’t have that answer for you. You can find out if you learn how to tap into your magic. You can talk to her yourself.”

“I can? She will tell me?”

Elijah sighs, tilting his head to the side, pointing at the mark on my neck. “There’s a good chance. Sometimes she doesn’t give direct answers, but I’m positive she’s got something big planned for you. You’re important to her.”

“You think Luca might know? The guy who bit me?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll need your cooperation to find out.” Elijah’s shoulders eases slightly. “I promise you, we are not going to hurt you in any way.”

“Then why did you use magic on me?”

“To keep you calm. I knew it was the only way for you to listen.” A slight smile forms on his lips. “I sense emotions. It’s part of my gift. You’ll develop one too. An ability unique to you.”

“I’ll be able to sense emotions too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Or you might be able to do other cool things. But the only way you’ll be able to find out and manage those abilities is if you work with the academy. Stay here and learn.”

“Right.” I peer down the hall, pushing out a deep breath in hopes of calming my racing heartbeat. “What did you mean by ‘you need my neck’? What are you going to do?”

“You thought we were going to chop it off or something, didn’t you?” he cracks a grin. “We need your neck, with you attached to it. Alive. No funny business, I swear.”

“I don’t get how it is going to help.”

“We need to perform a spell to track the one who marked you. In a nutshell, Humphrey’s going to sprinkle some herbs on your neck and chant. No wolves will get harmed in the process.”

“And this is going to bring Luca here?” I press on.

“Yes. We might be able to get some answers for you. And with some chance, by then when you’ve calmed down enough, I can show you around and how we go about things here. We’re not as rabid and wild as humans claim us to be. If anything, we’re more humane than humans.”

I rub my arms, staring at him. I could run, but from what I understand, there’s no way out, and one of them will catch me eventually. I mean, there’s only so far you can run with a bunch of werewolves on your trail.

Or, I can go with him and get it over with.

I puff out another breath. If I don’t stop exhaling so much, I’ll faint. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Elijah leads me through a narrow corridor bright with candlelight, down several flights of stairs, and into an extensive dark passage. Along the way, we spot Cass. He’s draped against a wall, busy charming a circle of girls and clearly forgetting Elijah had asked him to go get this Humphrey person. Elijah’s jaw tightens into a hard line. Based on the way he is glaring at Cass, it is clear that Cass’s little ‘detour’ isn’t going unpunished.

“Exactly where are we going?” I press a hand to my stomach, worming closer to him. I’m overrun with the sudden fear of getting snatched and dragged into a dungeon somewhere.

The further we walk, the darker and creepier it gets.

Elijah’s attention snaps to me. “To Humphrey. She’s the werewolf high priestess. Also known as the headmistress of the academy.”

“And does she live down here?” my eyes dart around nervously.

“No. This is usually where she works during the night.” He turns to face a geometric symbol with a wolf in the center, carved into the stone wall. Raising a hand, he presses a palm against it. A click sounds, and the wall melts away. “She rarely sleeps.”

I stare in awe at the open space where the wall had been. It takes me a few heartbeats to find my voice. “Another werewolf perk?”

“Nah, I can only wish,” he laughs. “She uses potions to keep herself awake. But,” he lowers his voice, “she’s like a hundred and two. We’re pretty sure she’s mixing an anti-aging potion in there as well. Never say it to her face, though—she’s very sensitive about the topic.”

“Okay?”

He slants closer when the door to an ancient-looking office swings open. “You’ll see what I mean.”

As we step in, the scent of burning sandalwood and an array of other sweet spices encloses me. My eyes track the source. It’s a small marble bowl burning a range of dried herbs on a wooden desk.

My nose wrinkles. “Isn’t she worried about fire hazards?”

“No, she does not,” a sharp, firm voice makes the muscles in my back tense up. I turn to look toward the obscure part of the room, where a woman spoke from. I can only see the hem of her shamrock-green dress peeking out from underneath the shadows. “That’s the beauty of magic. Especially if you understand how to preserve control over it.”

I bite into my cheek, peeking at Elijah, who shakes his head. I take it as a cue to remain silent.

The woman sighs and gets up. When she steps into the light, I can’t help the gasp that escapes from between my lips.

My hand flies to my mouth. “Your dress is beautiful,” I compliment, attempting to redeem the slip.

The woman—well, should I rather say, girl—offers a sweet smile. “Thank you, dear. I’m quite fond of it.”

I glance at Elijah with a quizzical look.

He nods. “This is the high priestess and headmistress of the academy, Mrs. Humphrey. Mrs. Humphrey, this is Hailey Woods. She’s the new pup I retrieved.”

The girl, with lips painted scarlet, smiles. She doesn’t look a day over twelve. Her long, raven curls frame her porcelain-skinned, doll-like face.

“Aren’t you supposed to take her to the dorm and help her settle in?” She pins Elijah with an inquisitive look. “Or did something go wrong?”

“Not exactly.” Elijah sets down both my duffel bags on the floor. I forgot about them. And, come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing him carry them until now. “Let me show you. Hailey?”

I nod, tossing my hair back over my shoulder to expose my neck to Mrs. Humphrey.

She gasps, rounding her desk to get to my side and seizing me by the arm. “My dear girl, the huntress must think highly of you.”

I blink. “How so?”

“You’re granted a very special gift.” She turns to Elijah. “This girl, she isn’t the first. If you paid attention in history class, you’d know what this means, boy.”

Elijah’s cheeks flush. “I didn’t realize history was interesting.”

Mrs. Humphrey’s lips curve down. “The huntress only gifts her most favored followers with this.” She nods toward the marking on my neck. “Only the best of our people, among our rulers and highest stationed, receive this.”

“I don’t follow. I mean, it can’t be,” I waver. “There’s nothing great about me.”

“Not according to our gracious Diana,” Mrs. Humphrey maintains. “Girl, you have no idea what you’re in for.”

Elijah blows out a breath. “So, she’s got some kind of higher calling?”

“Precisely.” Mrs. Humphrey raises a petite hand, motioning toward a chair. “Come. Sit, please.”

“I still don’t understand how she could favor me.” I sink into the plush armchair on the opposite side of the headmistress’s desk. “There’s literally nothing special about me. I suck at school. I don’t have friends. Luca, he marked me and now everyone thinks—” I hesitate, remembering where I am and in whose company I am. I doubt anyone here will appreciate me implying that they’re freaks.

My gaze bounces to Elijah. He appears to be decent. I’m not sure how I feel about the high priestess yet.

I redirect my attention to the lady in question. “People back home aren’t exactly fond of werewolves. My parents—people at school used to tell me scary stories about your kind.”

Mrs. Humphrey lowers herself into a chair behind her desk. “Your kind?” She arches a brow. “Don’t you mean our kind? You’re one of us now, dear.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “It all feels so surreal.”

“I understand; I’ve been through it myself.” She gestures toward Elijah. “Unlike him, who was born into this world, I was an outsider, like you. I grew up in a quaint little neighborhood with strict, religious human parents. They believed I was a demon spawn—a punishment for their sins. Eventually, they kicked me out of the only home I had ever known. I remember it as if it were yesterday. But, despite it all, this world has turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I swallow the lump stuck inside my throat. Look, my parents aren’t great, but they are still my family. They are all I have. Drunks or not. “It’s—how do I forget them?”

Mrs. Humphrey reaches across her desk and takes hold of my hand, squeezing it. I shudder. Her skin is like ice. “Dear, as impossible as it seems, you will. They are nothing other than negligent if they can throw you away like that.” It almost sounds like she’s saying it more for her own benefit than mine, making me wonder if it’s sincere. She pats my hand and offers a gentle smile before straightening up in her seat. “I’m aware of what the outside world thinks of us. They believe us to be beasts. Cruel, bloodthirsty murderers. I promise you, child, we are anything but.”

Elijah shifts beside me, giving off the impression that he wants to add to the conversation but decides against it.

“Like humans, we have those among us who drift from our morals and do appalling things. We stand out compared to them. Thus, they naturally turn all the negative attention to us instead of seeing their own as capable of abominable doings. It’s in a human’s nature to want to be faultless and to turn a blind eye to what is true.”

I nod, crossing my legs.

“Tell me, girl, what’s the worst thing you have ever done?”

“Does it matter?” I falter.

There’s a gleam in Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes. “Yes, it does. Now, share with me what is the worst thing you’ve ever done in your life?”

My eyes narrow as I consider her question. “I’m… not sure. I haven’t done many bad things. None that I can think of.”

“It doesn’t matter how many. I simply want to know what the worst thing you are capable of is.”

I lift my eyes to meet hers, cringing. “I stole a doll from a thrift store.”

“Why?” Mrs. Humphrey presses on, folding her fingers together on her desk.

I fluster. “My parents refused to buy me dolls because they believed it was a waste of money. I never had any, and I always watched the girls at school having so much fun and bragging about how they got the newest Sally Beach doll—”

Elijah squints at me, his eyes lit with a twinkle of amusement.

I scowl at him. “I was seven, okay?”

“And?” Mrs. Humphrey prompts, ignoring Elijah.

“Anyway, I wanted to play with them. I wanted friends, too. I wanted to belong.”

“I see.” Her lips purse. “Do you want to know what the worst thing is that I’ve ever done?”

“Not sure if that’s going to make a difference.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her full attention is on me. “You see, I burned down a tree.”

I blink. “Okay?”

“The point is, both our worst qualities are trivial compared to what others are capable of.” She shifts. “You’ve heard of the White Valley serial killer?”

“It was all over the news.”

“The killer is human.” She directs a hand at me. “And look at you. Look at me, and the worst things we’ve done. We, the ones deemed monsters by the people out there.”

“Right.” I shift under her sharp gaze.

“I want you to understand that our kind are not the villains you were led to believe,” she informs. “My words are worthless, though, as I know it has been ingrained in your mind since birth. The best I can offer you is to prove it to you. Once you live in our world, with time, you’ll see it’s nothing like you expect. From personal experience, I know you will grow to love this place. You’ll make friends and form everlasting bonds.”

It feels like she’s making a sales pitch. “What if I don’t want to stay?”

“It’s up to you, dear. But it would be against the huntress’s wishes if you did. I have no doubt she would punish you for it as well.”

I swallow.

“Understand that I’m not trying to scare you, but—you do not vex the likes of our gracious huntress. I know she has great plans for you.”

Mrs. Humphrey dismisses Elijah once the girl’s dormitory matron shows up. Mrs. June is as sweet as she is old—and the polar opposite of Mrs. Humphrey. June, as she prefers to be addressed, is a plump, short lady with unruly hair and mismatched clothing. She doesn’t fall over herself to flatter Mrs. Humphrey or bow to her every whim.

When Mrs. Humphrey insists that June deliver her some tea, June refuses. She voices that she’s here to help me settle, not to be the headmistress’s maid.

I cover my mouth to hide my smile. For a moment, a sense of belonging washes over me. It is brief—enough to make me think there’s a chance this situation isn’t as rotten as I thought it might be.

But not enough to prevent me from shedding the trepidation pooling inside my belly. I sit in a corner, observing the two women setting up an altar dedicated to the huntress Diana.

When they’re done, June ushers me toward the altar and instructs me to take off my jacket. “It’s cold in here,” I shiver, rubbing my arms.

June places a hand on my shoulder. “No worries, child, this should be quick.” As I do as I was asked, she adds, “You’re going to love the girls’ dorm. There’s a snug fireplace in the common room, and each room has a heater installed.”

“It was an expensive addition to the school, but nonetheless worth it,” Mrs. Humphrey quips in. “It gets cold here in the evenings. But what also makes me feel warm is a nice cup of tea.” She throws June a pointed look.

June rolls her eyes. “Are we going to do this, or are you going to wait for this poor thing to freeze?”

I bite back a smile.

Mrs. Humphrey gets to work, her lips drawn tight. She chants under her breath in a language I don’t understand while drawing symbols on my neck, using her finger that she dipped into a brown, ashy substance.

Then, she picks up a small crystal bowl filled with crushed herbs and sprinkles the mixture across my skin.

A warm, tingling sensation forms wherever they touch. I glance at June, who holds a candle in her hand with her eyes closed. Her lips move feverishly along with Mrs. Humphrey’s, but her voice isn’t audible.

My focus bounces back to the headmistress. She has turned and is drawing a circle on the floor in front of me with white chalk.

Once her chanting stops, her eyes settle on me. “Say the recruiter’s name, dear.”

“Luca?” I test and gasp as a figure pops out of thin air right in the middle of the circle. “Holy crap.”

June snorts. “Crap is certainly not holy, child.”

“What. The. Hell?” Luca is wearing pajama pants with a bunch of snoozing porcupines printed on them and a shirt of some metal band—barefoot. His hair is more disheveled than I have ever seen it before. It is obvious he has been sleeping. He spins around to find me gaping at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who left me hanging.” My fists tighten at my sides. “They’re trying to help me, unlike you.”

Luca’s eyes narrow when he notices Mrs. Humphrey. “We meet again, old hag.”

Mrs. Humphrey blanches. “Get the guardians. Now!”

My eyes widen as June bolts out of the room, looking flustered. My gaze flicks to the headmistress. “Did I miss something here?”

“Lucian Crowe.” Mrs. Humphrey whispers the name like a curse, her face turning a bruised red. “How did you do it?”

“Like you all do. The huntress came to me and told me to mark her.” Luca—or Lucian, as Mrs. Humphrey referred to him—smirks. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

“Deceiver. Once you’re exiled, you can’t get in touch with the spiritual realm,” Mrs. Humphrey spits out. “I’m asking you once more, how did you do it?”

“Exiled?” My brows knit together.

“Let’s just say I got screwed over and kicked from the werewolf club.” Luca eyes me, a bitter smirk on his face. “But the huntress still deemed me worthy enough to mark someone as valuable as you.”

“How am I valuable?”

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” He pins his forest-green gaze on Mrs. Humphrey, then offers her a chilling smile.

Chapter 4

The heavy office doors burst open, and the room is suddenly flooded with the scent of wet fur and dust. A cluster of guards surges in—some geared up for a fight, others already mid-shift, their eyes glowing predatorily.

June’s hand clamps onto my shoulder, her grip like iron as she hauls me toward the exit. ‘We’re leaving. Now.’

I try to dig my heels in, to demand an answer, but the room explodes into violence. Shouts collide with guttural, chest-vibrating snarls. The last thing I see before the door slams shut in my face is a guard launched into the air, his body twisting into a blur of fur and muscle as he leaps onto Luca.

Luca doesn’t go down easy. He’s a whirlwind of teeth and defiance, his roar echoing through the heavy wood of the door even after the lock clicks into place. I’m left staring at the grain of the oak, my heart hammering against my ribs, abandoned in the hallway with June.

“What an unexpected turn of events,” June blows out a breath, hooking her arm with mine. “Come, let’s get you to your room. You’re going to love it.”

“What did Luca do?” My heart is so loud inside my ears that I can’t think. “Why was he exiled?”

“Never mind that, love. It’s not something that should concern you.” At this point, it feels more like I’m being dragged than willingly walking. I jerk my arm back, making it clear I don’t appreciate being handled like luggage.

June pauses, her sharp expression softening for a fleeting second. “He did something bad. Something that is not in my power or right to tell you. When the time is appropriate, I’m certain my sister will discuss it with you.”

My brain hitches on the word. “Your sister?”

“Oh, of course,” June lets out a dry, awkward snort. “Selene Humphrey is my sister.”

Well. That explains a lot about June’s behavior toward the headmistress. All I can manage is a dull, “Oh.”

“Anyhow. This is you.” June steps aside, revealing a cherry-red door. It’s a mess of postcards from around the world and a few faux sunflowers tucked haphazardly into the frame. “You’ll be sharing with Ariah Winter. She’s a bit shy, but sweet. I’m sure you’ll get along.”

I stand there, clutching one elbow, a duffel bag swinging from each shoulder. Even though they aren’t full, the straps are starting to bite into my skin. It’s an uncomfortable weight—though not nearly enough to distract me from the frantic rhythm of my nerves.

“I see you only brought these,” June says, gesturing to my duffel bags. “We have a storeroom filled with second-hand necessities. Not everyone’s parents—especially those from human families—are keen on helping their young ones settle in.”

“Yeah, well…” I trail off. What is there to say? I still can’t believe Mom actually did this to me. I wonder how Dad will react, but I shove the thought away. I don’t have the strength to handle that kind of pain right now.

“The point is,” June says, resting a hand on my arm, “you’re welcome to visit me and take a few things for your side of the room. Make it a bit more homey.”

I doubt I can ever turn this place into a home, but the gesture is kind. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ariah was born into a werewolf family,” June continues. “You can learn a lot from her about our world.”

I nod. A thousand questions bubble in my chest, but I can’t bring myself to ask them. What happens to me now? How long am I staying? What will happen to my parents?

“Right, I suppose that settles it. You know where to find me.” June smiles, but there’s a shadow of concern behind it.

A heavy sense of doom settles in my gut. It’s the classic ‘new-girl syndrome’—the realization that I’m about to be fresh meat for every bully in the building. I watch helplessly as June turns and sprints down the cavernous hallway like her feet are on fire.

A clicking sound echoes behind me. Light spills onto the stone floor, lining my shadow in a halo of gold.

I spin around to find a girl my age gawking at me, a lollipop tucked into her cheek. Her eyes drop to my duffels, then work their way slowly back up to my face. She tries to smile, but it’s a struggle.

“Afphf newf girlf?” she mumbles around the candy, before finally pulling it out. “You’re staying in this room? With me?” She waves a hand at the space behind her. “As in… I actually get a roommate?”

I glance at the cherry-red door. “Yeah. I guess so.”

She startles me with a loud squeal and throws her arms around me, pulling me into a lung-crushing hug. “Welcome!” When she finally steps back, she’s breathless. “You have no idea how miserable it’s been without a roommate. What’s your name?”

“Hailey.” I trail after her, my brain struggling to keep up. The room is… a lot. “Wow. Are all the rooms like this?”

“I’m Ariah. Ariah Winter—but you probably knew that. And nope,” she beams. “My parents are awesome and made sure I have everything I need.”

A sad lump forms in my throat as I scan the space. It’s huge and bathed in warm, autumnal light. The walls are a rich burnt orange, making the whole place feel like a sunset. In one corner, there’s a desk with a sleek laptop, a coffee maker, and even a popcorn machine. It’s a haven. It’s also clearly expensive.

“Uh, which bed is yours?” My eyes bounce between two twins bedecked in chocolate-brown bedding and fiery orange leaves.

“The left one.” She points. “I actually bought the bedding for the second one when my previous roommate passed away. Just to fill the space.” Her brows furrow when she sees my face go pale. “You don’t like it? I can take it off.”

Ariah reaches for the pillow, but I shake my head. “No, it’s pretty. It’s just—you said she died?”

“Oh.” Ariah looks down at her feet. “Yeah. She was murdered.”

“Murdered?” I sputter the word, the cozy warmth of the room suddenly feeling stifling. “At the academy?”

Ariah shifts, regret written all over her face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ve already said too much.”

“Where? In this room?” I inch toward the door, my skin crawling. “It wasn’t in here, was it?”

“I could lie, but someone else will tell you eventually. Might as well be me.”

Nausea pools in the pit of my stomach. “Please don’t tell me—on my bed?”

“She was found stabbed in her bed,” Ariah confirms quietly. Then, she adds a frantic, “But don’t worry! They burned the old one. This is brand-new.”

I stare at the mattress as if it’s a trap. “Is this a regular thing here?”

“If it were, do you think I’d still be here?” she snorts. “No. It happened during class. The girl, Sally, said she wasn’t feeling well and came back alone. Later, a friend checked on her and found her… well, in her own blood.”

“Where were you?”

“In class. Thank the goddess I didn’t see it. I can’t imagine what her friends went through,” Ariah sighs, looking tired. “We weren’t besties, but I liked her. She was nice.”

“How can you sleep in here?”

“It was terrible at first, but you kind of get over it.” Her forehead wrinkles. “Anyway, they caught him. Her ex-boyfriend fell into a jealous rage. So you don’t have to worry about a psychopath on the loose. He got punished.”

“Oh. Good.” I eye the bed, still half-convinced I’ll see a bloodstain. I cross the room and drop my duffel bags on the new mattress, trying to distract myself by unpacking.

“Lucian Crowe got what he deserved,” Ariah says, tearing open a pack of candy. “I do feel sorry for her brother, though. Have you met him? Elijah? Like, the insanely hot future alpha?”

My hairbrush hits the floor with a dull thud. “Luca?”

The color drains from my face. Wait—what are the odds that… No.

Out of everything, I’m just finding out an actual murderer bit me?

And the realization that it is Elijah’s sister makes it somehow even worse.

No. I shake my head, trying to physically dislodge the thought.

“Not sure who that is, but he went by the name Lucian. They stripped him of his power and sent him to Nightfall Prison. Exactly where he belongs. Trust me, no one gets out of there.”

What are the chances of there being two boys with that name? “This Lucian,” I swallow hard. “What did he look like?”

“Also super hot. Such a waste.” Ariah lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh and holds up a finger. “Wait, I have a picture of the two of them somewhere.”

Ariah disappears into our shared closet and emerges with a thick pink photo album. She flips through the pages at a frantic pace. “Give me a—ah! Here it is. See?”

I move to stand beside her, my legs feeling like lead. The second my eyes settle on the glossy print, my heart climbs into my throat, hammering against my teeth.

It’s a shot of a cute couple at a park, sitting on a wooden bench beneath a sprawling oak. The girl’s long, wavy hair and floral dress are caught mid-sway in a breeze that doesn’t exist anymore. The boy has his arm wrapped around her shoulders, wearing a casual black shirt and jeans. Both of them are laughing, their faces lit with a joy that looks painful now. In the background, sunlight filters through the trees and glints off a serene pond, making their world seem perfect.

Almost. Because the boy is, without a doubt, the same Luca who bit me.

My skin turns ice-cold. They look so… happy. What could have gone so wrong? And more importantly—how the hell is Luca free?

“You okay?” Ariah snaps the album shut, hiding the haunting image from sight. It doesn’t help. It’s already branded onto the back of my eyelids. “You seem—I don’t know. Spooked?”

“Well.” I rub my damp palms against my jeans. “You did just inform me that I’m sleeping in a murder scene.”

Ariah’s face pinches with guilt. “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point. I’m sorry. I tend to be a little too honest for my own good.”

I don’t tell her the real reason. I don’t tell her I was just in the same room as a killer—that he bit me, for crying out loud. “It’s okay,” I mutter.

A long, heavy silence follows. I use the awkwardness as a shield, focusing entirely on unpacking my bags.

“So, the Moon Festival is coming up.” Ariah breaks the quiet, tapping her password into her laptop. “I’ve already planned my outfit. Do you have one ready, or are you more of a casual person?”

“I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been to the Moon Festival?” Ariah’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

I shake my head, tucking my folded clothes into our shared closet. Ariah’s things dominate her side of the divided space, making it a tight fit for whatever I have left. “I’m not from a werewolf family. Humans don’t usually get an invite to the party.”

Ariah’s brows furrow. “I’ve seen humans at the festivals before.”

“Yeah, well. My parents are… anti-wolf.”

“Oh. You’ve got those parents.” Ariah falls silent, her expression softening. “I’m sorry, Hailey. That’s got to suck.”

“It is what it is,” I mutter, trying to sound indifferent.

“Hey, you can always join my family for the holidays,” she says, a wide grin breaking through the tension. “Then you won’t be stuck here with the ‘stay-behind’ faculty.”

I managed a small, genuine smile. “You barely know me.”

Ariah taps the tip of her nose with a finger. “Wolf senses. I can spot a bad person from a mile away.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Funny, because I can’t tell the difference between a bunny and a snake.”

“Every wolf has their thing. Mine is sensing intentions.” Her shoulders drop as her gaze settles on me. “Look, I’m going to cut to the chase. Are you going to be okay? Your mood is like the center of a hurricane right now—maybe worse. Can I ask what happened?”

“I’m not even sure,” I say, my eyes wandering the room. “This is a lot to take in.”

Ariah holds out her bag of candy, an offering of peace. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Thanks.” I offer a weak smile, taking a piece before plunking down onto my new bed. “My mom didn’t take the news well when she saw the mark. She was more worried about her next drink than me. She just… dumped me at the station.”

“I’m so sorry, Hails.”

My heart constricts at the nickname. It’s what Dad always calls me. “Yeah, well. Life, right?”

Ariah’s face darkens, her playful energy momentarily replaced by something sharper. “No, that’s not life. That’s just cruel.”

I nod, the lump in my throat preventing me from saying more.

“So,” she begins, her tone shifting back to mischief, “I know a spell that can turn a boy’s balls into icicles.” She fans herself with an empty wrapper, grinning. “I haven’t tested it yet. Know any worthy subjects?”

I sputter a laugh, the sound catching me off guard. “You can actually do that?”

“Totally. I’ve got a few tricks. We aren’t supposed to use that kind of magic on students, but there’s no rule against using it on humans.”

“So… I’ll be able to do stuff like that too?”

“Absolutely. My favorite is making the popcorn machine work while I’m still under the covers.”

“Now that is awesome.”

“Right?” Ariah crinkles a candy wrapper between her fingers. “What’s your star sign?”

“Leo. Why?”

“Ooh, Leo wolves are feisty.” Her face scrunches up in thought. “That means your birthday is coming up soon. When? We’re definitely having a dorm party.”

“Oh, no, please.” I shake my head. “Besides, it was actually yesterday.”

“No freaking way. The same day all this—” Ariah cuts herself off, the realization hitting her. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I narrow my eyes at the floor, suddenly unable to meet her gaze.

“Girl, that is just… awful.” Ariah leaps from her bed and snatches her digital clock from the nightstand. She peers at the LED display for a second before clicking it back down. “Breakfast is in an hour. Hey, Hailey?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got something I need to take care of. Will you be okay here, unpacking?” When I nod, she flashes a supportive look. “Great. I’ll come back for you when it’s time to eat. That way you don’t have to brave the cafeteria alone.”

It doesn’t take long to unpack the little I own. By the time I reach the photo album—filled with memories of me and my parents—I’ve found just enough courage to toss it into the trash can.

Ridding myself of the last piece of my family burns like a hot poker through my chest, but it has to be done. I can’t keep torturing myself over people who don’t care if I’m alive or dead.

I don’t realize I’m crying until a heavy tear tickles the side of my nose.

I wipe it away with my sleeve, then roll up my empty duffel bags to slide them under the bed. In the process, I knock a loose floorboard. It snags on the strap of one of the bags, and when I try to yank it free, the whole thing gets wedged.

“Oh, come on,” I grumble. I wiggle and tug, but the strap is stubbornly lodged. “Ugh!”

I let go of the duffel and shove the bed aside to fix the floorboard. That’s when I see it. Something silver gleams from the dark gap where the wood shifted.

I drop to my knees and fish around the small space, my fingers brushing against cold metal. I pull out a skeleton key tied to a frayed pink string. My brows knit together. I reach back in, searching for more, and withdraw a tiny, rolled-up scrap of paper.

It’s a letter, soft and worn from being folded and unfolded a hundred times. I carefully unroll it, noticing a jagged tear in the corner where the paper has finally given up.

Whoever this letter belonged to had read it dozens of times. My curiosity wins out, and I begin to read.

Dear L,

By the time you read this letter, it will be too late. I want you to know that this key holds all the answers. Be careful how you use it, as it can either bring good fortune or unleash hell.

I will always love you.

Sally.

I read it a second time, twirling the key by its string around my index finger. L? As in Luca? I grimace. Did Sally know he was going to kill her? If she did, why was she still so loving?

Something about this feels wrong. If the academy staff had found this while cleaning up the crime scene, they would have taken it. Which means it stayed hidden.

I’m staring at the paper, debating what to do with it, when the impossible happens. At the bottom of the note, dark ink bleeds into the fibers, forming two words: Help me.

An undignified screech rips from my throat and I drop the letter as if it’s white-hot. What the ever-loving hell? I’m frozen, staring at the paper on the floor and weighing whether to grab it or bolt for the hallway, when the door suddenly cracks open.

“What?” I shriek, leaping to my feet.

Ariah peeks through the doorway, her brows arched toward her hairline. “Uh… did I interrupt something?”

“No! Sorry.” Heat floods my cheeks. I smooth the front of my shirt with shaking hands, forced a smile onto my face. “I’m just… jumpy. Sorry.”

The corners of her lips tip up. “Let me guess—still paranoid about the dead girl?”

“I guess.” I look down at the note, but the ink is gone. The bottom of the page is as blank as it was a minute ago. I pick it up, rotating it in my palm and checking every angle. A trick of the light? It had to be.

“I must have imagined it,” I murmur.

“Did you say something?”

I shake my head, fighting back a frown. “No. Nothing. Never mind.”

As soon as Ariah turns her back, I seize the moment. I quickly roll the letter back up and shove it, along with the key, deep into the narrow gap beneath the floorboard.

“Anyway, I came to get you,” she sings, oblivious to my heart nearly hammering out of my chest. “Breakfast is ready.”

Chapter 5

The dining hall buzzes with a frantic energy, the air thick with the sweet, heavy scent of baked bread and cinnamon. Warm light filters through massive stained-glass windows, dappling the long wooden tables in a mosaic of colors. Above us, the high ceiling is anchored by rustic chandeliers, giving the vast space a medieval, castle-like weight.

Ariah grabs my wrist, her grip firm as she hauls me through the sea of students. I stumble after her, navigating the jumble of laughter and clattering silverware.

Then, the atmosphere shifts.

Slowly, the noise begins to dip. Heads turn. Conversations die mid-sentence as eyes lock onto me. Whispers ripple through the crowd, accompanied by the sharp jab of pointing fingers.

I suddenly regret my high ponytail; with my hair up, my neck is completely exposed, putting my mark on center stage for the entire academy to judge.

It’s even worse than I expected.

No one else has a mark like mine.

Theirs are all neat, smaller versions of Elijah’s, lacking the jagged, paw-like print. And they definitely don’t have the hideous, dark veins—the ones Elijah promised would fade, but right now feel like a neon sign screaming that I don’t belong.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I try to distract myself.

“I’m introducing you to our friends. You’re going to love them!” Ariah steers me toward the far corner where two students sit across from each other. My eyes narrow as we get closer, taking in the cluttered spread between them.

Tiny circles of neon confetti cling to every inch of the wood, scattered around two mismatched bowls—one overflowing with colorful hard candies and the other piled high with salt-dusted potato chips. In the center, a stack of soft-baked cookies oozing with buttercream sits like a makeshift cake, a single pink candle flickering at the summit.

A boy around my age with curly, light copper hair and a sturdy build rises, thrusting a crimson balloon toward me. “Happy belated birthday!” he chirps. His round face lights up, though his deep, warm brown eyes linger on my mark for a fraction of a second. “It’s not much, but we hope you like it. Welcome to the Academia of the Moon. You’re going to love it here.”

Well. This defies every expectation I had.

I struggle to muster a faint smile, my brain still trying to process everything. “Uh, thank you?” I glance at Ariah, hesitant. “What exactly is happening?”

She just grins. “We figured you deserved a proper birthday celebration. Come, sit.”

The second student at the table, a girl with lush raven curls and perfect mahogany skin, slides a tiny, ribbon-wrapped package across the confetti. Her dark eyes twinkle. “Hey there. I’m Celeste. This isn’t much, but trust me, they’re really good.” She jerks a thumb toward the boy. “That doofus is Nate.”

“Well, excuse me!” Nate plants his fists on his hips, mock-offended. “I have much more class than you, madame. I, unlike you, actually stood up to welcome our new bestie.”

“Sure you do.” Celeste rolls her eyes, waving him off as if he were a fly. “As for our new bestie, she wouldn’t even know your name if you hadn’t blurted it out. And if you’re going to fault my manners, at least I bothered with a gift. Unlike some people.”

Nate ignores Celeste and reaches for a cookie, but Ariah slaps his hand away. “The birthday girl needs to make a wish first.”

He sticks out his tongue and sinks back into his seat. “Rude.”

“Wait, you’re not psychic, are you?” Celeste asks, leaning in.

I sit down between her and Ariah, placing the wrapped gift on the table. “Nope.”

“Just checking.” She jerks a thumb toward Nate. “This one is. He told us last week we were going to make a new friend. We couldn’t imagine liking any of the students already here, but then you showed up.”

“You owe me fifty bucks,” Nate quips.

Celeste waves him off. “Anyway, he’s gay. You can talk to him about anything. He gets it.”

“Sure do.” Nate’s lips part, his eyes fixed on my cookie cake. “So, are you making a wish?”

“Let her settle in first, jeez!” Ariah huffs. “This is a lot to take in. She’s completely new to all of this. She comes from a human family.”

“Oh.” Nate exhales slowly, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. My stomach usually moves faster than my brain. This must be a lot for you.”

“Yeah. It’s going to take some time.” I pinch the edge of the table, the wood solid under my fingertips. “Before today, I believed werewolves ate humans.”

All three of them burst out laughing.

Nate slaps the table. “We’ve heard that before, but I promise, most of us are pretty harmless.”

“Some really do eat people,” Celeste says, pulling a face. “Though cannibalism is frowned upon. Even here.”

“Yep,” Ariah agrees. “Humans are actually more prone to that than our kind.”

“Sounds about right.” Nate’s gaze drifts back to my neck.

“Knock it off,” Celeste says, nudging him with her elbow. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

I glance at Ariah, my brow raised in a silent question. She just shrugs. “Everyone’s curious why your mark is so different.”

A cold prickle of sweat tracks down my spine. “Different” is an understatement.

I take a steadying breath and launch into the explanation Mrs. Humphrey gave me, carefully omitting any mention of Luca.. I doubt getting marked by an exiled werewolf—a murderer—will sit well with anyone here. Especially since Ariah knows who he is—no doubt they’ll know too.

I barely finish when Nate bounces in his seat. “That is awesome!” he exclaims. “I’ve never met anyone with that mark. Some of the most powerful figures in our society have it—you have to be special.”

“It’s pretty, too,” Celeste muses. I couldn’t disagree more, but before I can get a word in, she continues. “Much better than this stamp of shame.”

“How is it a stamp of shame? Are you embarrassed by your own kind?” Ariah presses.

“That’s not what I mean,” Celeste snorts. “I love being a wolf, I just think the mark is ugly. Look how intricate hers is.”

Nate leans forward, squinting. “Yours looks like a crescent moon with a pattern and—” he makes a face. “I’m not even sure what those shapes are called.”

“They look like the symbols in the Book of the Divine,” Ariah says thoughtfully.

“Is that in the library?” I ask. When she nods, I lean in. “I’d love to see it. I want to know what these mean. Maybe it’ll give me some answers.” Or at least some reassurance that I’m not going to turn into a psycho because of the man who marked me.

“A quick heads-up—the staff will be watching you like a hawk if you check out that book. It’s special,” Celeste explains. “You aren’t allowed to take it out of the room.”

“Right.” I shift in my seat, my heart fluttering. “Can I ask you guys something? About our history?”

“Sure. Shoot,” Nate says, muffled by a bite of a muffin. “That’s what friends are for.”

A deep sadness churns in my chest. I’ve never had real friends; I don’t know what the rules are. Is it always this easy? Does it usually happen this fast, without any tests or challenges?

“So,” I push out a breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hypothetically… let’s say a wolf gets exiled for something incredibly bad. Like murder.”

“Yeah?” Celeste’s brows shoot toward her hairline.

“Well, let’s say they end up marking someone. Is that a bad thing?”

Ariah frowns. “No, because that’s impossible. Once you’re exiled, you lose your power. Without power, you can’t access the spiritual realm. You can’t mark anyone, period.”

“But let’s say it could happen.” I lift my chin, trying to mask my uneasiness. “Our magic comes from energy, right?” I recall seeing a line about that on Mrs. Humphrey’s wall. “So, whether the person marking you is good or evil… does that energy pass over to you?”

The three of them exchange a long look. It’s Celeste who finally answers. “We were born with our marks, but I’ve heard those who are recruited later do absorb some of their recruiter’s energy.”

My stomach turns. And mine happens to be a murderer. “I see. So you’d end up with some of their traits?”

Nate nods. “From what I’ve heard, yeah.”

“Why?” Ariah asks, her eyes searching mine. “Did your recruiter do something wrong?”

I shake my head a little too quickly. “No. No, I’m just curious.”

“Uh-huh.” Celeste’s tone says she doesn’t believe a word of it. But for once, my luck holds; they don’t push it.

“Hey, have you decided on a wish yet?” Nate bounces in his seat.

“Nate, for goodness sake!” Celeste laughs. “You’re incorrigible.”

I manage a small smile. “You guys can just eat the cookies. I don’t really believe in wishes.”

“Oh, honey, don’t do that.” Celeste reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You’re in our world now. Wishes can actually come true here. If I were you, I’d take the chance.”

“But does it still count? Since it isn’t actually my birthday anymore?” I ask.

“It’s worth a try,” Ariah urges. “We take wishes seriously around here. Now make one—and make it count.”

“And don’t tell a soul,” Nate adds.

I sigh and lean forward, closing my eyes. There’s a lot I could ask for. But the only thing I want right now is for these people to be the real deal. I can’t handle any more heartbreak, or any more hollow relationships that do more harm than good.

I open my eyes to find all three of them watching me with encouraging smiles.

Please, let this be real.

I lean in and blow out the candle.

---

“How do you talk to the Huntress?” I ask, trailing after Ariah through the hallway. She’s been showing me around, getting me acquainted with the faces and the layout. People are friendly enough, but no one misses a chance to let their gaze linger on my mark.

As she opens her mouth to answer, a tall, bald man appears beside us, clearing his throat with a sharp, dry sound. “Miss Woods.”

Ariah lets out a depleted sigh. “Mr. Len. What can we do for you?”

Without a word, Mr. Len hands me a timetable. I frown at the ink. “This has to be a mistake. It says my first lesson with Mrs. Humphrey is at midnight?”

Mr. Len huffs, his voice a slow, condescending drawl. “You surely don’t expect to tap into the spiritual realm during broad daylight, do you?”

He then begins to drone on about the sun’s energy and how its ‘blinding radiance’ stifles the spirit. I try to follow along as he explains that the moon is the only true lens for the Huntress, but then he moves into something about the perigee of the celestial tide and astral friction.

My brain gives up. I find myself watching a fly crawl across a nearby windowpane, more interested in its erratic progress than the star-charts he’s describing with such agonizing slowness. I only snap back to reality when the sound of his voice cuts out. He stops and waits, peering at me over the rim of his spectacles as if expecting a deep realization.

“Right. Thank you,” I manage, hoping my face doesn’t look as blank as I feel.

He offers a curt nod, spinning on his heel. His shoes make an obnoxious, high-pitched squeak with every step, and I find myself clenching my teeth until the sound finally fades around the corner.

“So, that’s Lenny. He teaches Herbology,” Ariah smirks. “If you want to die a slow, monotonous death, just take a seat in his classroom.”

I’ve only known him for thirty seconds and I’ve already managed to shut him out. “He seems… delightful.”

Ariah nudges me with her elbow, giggling at the sarcasm. “Total understatement.”

A group of girls passes by, their heads turning in unison. I meet their gaze, hoping a direct look will make them flinch or turn away, but they just keep watching me like I’m a specimen in a jar. Feeling the heat climb up my neck, I turn my back on them and focus entirely on Ariah. Hopefully, by next week, I’ll be old news and they’ll forget I even exist.

“Anyway, before Lenny interrupted,” Ariah says, rolling her eyes. “To answer your question: you have to tap into the spiritual realm. It’s quite a process, so I can’t just sum it up in the hallway. You’ll probably learn the basics in separate sessions since the rest of us covered it at the beginning of the year. That’s how they catch the new pups up, and usually, Mrs. Humphrey handles the training.”

“I see.” I cringe, wondering how on earth I’m supposed to make that work. My schedule is already packed, and that’s before adding midnight lessons to the mix.

“This is the girls’ common room.” Ariah pushes open two massive oak doors engraved with scarlet roses. “It’s a great spot to hang out or do homework, but if you need silence, it’s the last place you want to be. There’s always someone trying to get in your business.”

“Noted.” I scan the room. It’s a warm, inviting haven that feels a world away from the cold stone hallways. The walls are a soft blush pink, adorned with framed illustrations of landscapes that look like they belong in a fairytale. Sunlight streams through arched windows, catching the sheer curtains and the plush velvet sofas piled high with pillows.

In the center sits a whitewashed wooden table surrounded by dainty chairs. It’s currently stocked with vases of fresh roses and a spread of macarons and chocolate-dipped strawberries. It looks perfect for a group study session—or just a place to hide.

Ariah turns to face me, walking backward with practiced ease. “I recommend our room or the library if you actually want to get work done.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though, looking at the treats, I can’t imagine choosing our bedroom over this—even if our room is nice. Minus the fact that someone died there. I shiver, rubbing my arms to chase away the sudden chill.

“Anyway, the kitchen is open twenty-four seven, but they cut off the sugar at nine p.m. Only fruit after that. If you’re a late-night candy or soda person, you’ll need to stock up when we’re allowed into town.”

I gesture toward the table. “Then what is all this?”

“Oh. You can help yourself to those during the day, too. I just personally avoid this area.”

“Why?” I ask, still admiring the view.

“Let’s just say I don’t get along with a select few.”

I can’t imagine anyone disliking Ariah, but I don’t push. It’s not my place to pry into her history. “Is there somewhere we can work part-time while we’re here?”

“Yeah. The library is looking for help, and a few teachers need assistants. I think the office—”

“Let me guess, the poor new girl can’t afford a candy bar?” A chorus of laughter erupts from the corner. I turn to find a petite girl standing there, arms crossed, her long hair spilling over her shoulders like an ashy river. She’d be pretty if her face wasn’t twisted into a viscous sneer.

“This is exactly why I avoid this room,” Ariah whispers, her expression darkening. She squares her shoulders and raises her voice. “Hailey, let me introduce you to the wicked witch of the west. She thinks she’s made of gold, suffers from a serious daddy complex, and is about ninety percent plastic.”

“Watch your mouth, Winter,” the girl snaps, taking a step forward. “Or you’ll lose it.”

“This is Valerie Stone.” Ariah glares at the girl in front of us. “Let me guess, you ran out of victims to torture and now you’re looking for fresh meat?”

“You are not what I expected.” Valerie’s ice-blue eyes narrow as she looks me up and down. “You’re not pretty.” It sounds more like she is trying to convince herself than to insult me.

“One way to deal with a threat,” Ariah laughs, leaning toward me with a conspiratorial smirk. “That’s her go-to line for anyone who beats her in the looks department.”

Valerie snaps her gaze to Ariah. “Are you still blabbering?”

“Yeah, do you mind?” Ariah speaks through clenched teeth. “I’m showing my friend around. Your ego is taking up the whole hallway.”

“Do you realize who you’re talking to?” Valerie’s eyes turn to slits as she brushes her hair back over her shoulder. “I can ruin you with one phone call.”

Unfazed, Ariah rolls her eyes. “What, because you think you’re the future Luna? Oh, please. Accept the fact that you’re a student like the rest of us.”

Valerie plants her hands on her hips, giving Ariah a scathing once-over. “Not for long. Soon, you’ll be whimpering at my feet.”

“Elijah is way too good for you,” Ariah counters. “It’s only a matter of time before he realizes it and ditches you.”

Valerie lets out a jagged laugh. “Wow, jealousy really bites, doesn’t it, Winter? He’s mine. Get over it.”

I find myself speaking before I can stop. “I don’t think she ever mentioned being into him.”

Valerie immediately shifts into a defensive stance, her shoulders tensing. “She doesn’t have to. It’s obvious, isn’t it? She wants what she can’t have.”

I look at Ariah, then back at Valerie, my brow furrowing. “Is she… okay?”

Ariah looks like she’s fighting a smirk. “Not even close. She’ll do anything for attention, even if it means picking a fight with a wall.”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here,” Valerie interjects. “And I’m not looking for a fight. I’m stating facts.”

“Facts no one wants to hear oozing from that greasy pout. Now, excuse us.” Ariah tugs my hand, but Valerie lunges for the other, her nails digging into my skin.

I flinch, ripping my arm back. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You are.” Her lips purse. “I want to make it abundantly clear that I’m watching you. Closely.”

“Oookay?” I frown. “Are you going to elaborate on why?”

She tilts her head to the side, smiling with a sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I know you were hanging out with Elijah early this morning. I can smell you on him.”

I sputter a laugh. “Okay, you’re actually nuts.”

“Told you,” Ariah sings.

“Oh, yeah?” Valerie pins Ariah with a scowl. “Go sniff him yourself, why don’t you? She’s been all over him.”

“Probably because he’s the one who recruited me?” I suggest, trying for logic. “It’s part of his role as a guardian, isn’t it?”

“Of course I know that,” Valerie snips. “But he never smells like this. Like any other girl.”

“Oh, jeez.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache brewing. “I ran in front of a truck and he tackled me to stop it. That’s why he smells like me. I have zero interest in getting up close and personal with your boyfriend, so you can back off with the insecure girlfriend complex.”

I don’t know why I’m even bothering to explain. Maybe a small part of me just feels sorry for Elijah, having to deal with a disaster like her.

“What makes you so special, anyway?” She eyes the mark on my neck with pure venom.

“If you ever find out, I’d like to know, too.”

“You’re telling me the Huntress didn’t reach out to you or anything?” Valerie lets out a forced, jagged laugh. “I don’t believe you for a second.” She shoves a finger into my chest, hard. “Let me make myself clear. Having a ‘mark of importance’ doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you want. It won’t buy your way into certain circles. And stay the hell away from my boyfriend. Do you understand?”

Valerie flips her hair over her shoulder, her smug smile returning. “I’m the queen around here. Don’t test me. Now, be a good little mutt and make yourself invisible.”

I cock an eyebrow, watching her sashay out of the room like she’s on a runway.

“If you haven’t noticed, she’s got a few screws loose,” Ariah finally says. “That, and she’s clinging to that Luna position for dear life.”

“Right,” I breathe. “I can tell she’s unhinged.”

“Totally. And the worst part is, she’s not even into Elijah.” Ariah turns back toward the hallway. “But whatever. Come on, I’ve got a few more places to show you.”

Chapter 6

Ariah parts ways with me before lunchtime, having promised to help a teacher with a project. We agree to meet up later with Nate and Celeste, but for now, I’m on my own.

Deciding to use the head start, I head up a flight of stairs toward the library. I’m desperate to find the Book of the Divine and decode the meaning behind my mark—assuming I don’t get lost in this labyrinth first. The sheer scale of the academy is enough to give me nightmares; I can already imagine being late for class and wandering these endless stone corridors without a map.

Thankfully, my luck holds. When I round the corner, I find the heavy double doors of the library. My heart sinks, however, when I spot a hand-scribbled note taped to the wood: Be back in an hour.

I sigh and lean against the wall, weighing my options. Without a timestamp on the note, I have no idea if the librarian left five minutes ago or fifty. Going back to my room isn’t appealing—there’s nothing there but empty space and the memory of who lived there before me. And I’d rather face a hungry wolf than another run-in with Valerie in the common room.

Maybe I can drop by June’s storeroom and see if she has anything to personalize my side of the dorm.

As I stretch, trying to work out the tension in my shoulders, low voices echo from the hallway behind me.

“I told you to leave me alone,” a familiar voice growls. It’s followed by the heavy thud of pounding feet. “I’m not interested.”

Curious, I duck behind a tall book stand overflowing with flyers. I peek around the edge, spotting none other than Elijah and Valerie. Well, Elijah is the one doing the talking; Valerie looks like she’s practically in heat, fawning over his broad shoulders and smiling with a flirtatious, desperate edge.

Elijah shoves her hands away, his jaw tight. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why?” Valerie presses, her voice dropping to a sharp, jealous hiss. “Is it because of her?”

Elijah’s head snaps in my direction. I duck behind the stand so fast my vision swims, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

“No,” he bites out, his voice vibrating with frustration. “It has nothing to do with her. It has everything to do with you. I can’t be with someone who only sees me as a title.”

“Oh, come on, Eli. You know my family’s status is the perfect match for yours. You need me as much as I need you in that department,” she muses, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Besides… we know how to have fun together.”

“I don’t give a damn about status. If you knew me at all, you’d know that.”

“Really?” Valerie pauses. I can almost picture her twirling an ashy curl around her finger. “You—the future Alpha—don’t care about status? You don’t care about your people? I wonder what your father would say about that.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t care about our people,” he snarls, the sound low and guttural. “I just don’t care about you.”

Their footsteps grow louder, moving toward my hiding spot. I stay low, dodging toward the stairwell and praying the shadows swallow me before they turn the corner.

“It is about her. It’s already started, hasn’t it? You’ve imprinted on that new mutt.”

I freeze midway down the stairs, the word imprinted ringing in my ears like a bell. My chest heaves, and I have to press a hand over my mouth to steady my breathing so I don’t miss his response.

“And so what if I have?” Elijah’s voice is defiant now. “You know as well as I do that no one can control that.”

“Wow. Just like that?” Valerie actually sounds hurt for a split second. “You’re dumping me for her?”

“Valerie,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’ve been trying to get you to leave me alone for months. You know this has nothing to do with her.”

“That’s not what you said last week when I was in your bed.”

My cheeks flush a deep, burning crimson. Okay, that’s it. This is officially the part where I’ve heard too much. I stealthily retreat the rest of the way down the stairs, and the moment my feet hit the bottom floor, I break into a dead run all the way back to my room.

---

“What does it mean to imprint?” I ask, taking a cautious bite of my pizza.

Three sets of eyes immediately swivel toward me. Nate is the first to speak, his cheeks bulging with a massive mouthful of crust. “You’ve been to the library, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I saw it in a book,” I lie, feeling a guilty heat crawl up my neck. “But I didn’t have time to dig into it. There was way too much information to process.”

“Makes sense. You’ve got a steep learning curve ahead of you,” Nate says, swallowing. “To answer your question—”

“I wish some hottie would imprint on me,” Celeste interrupts, leaning back with a wistful sigh. “It’s every girl’s dream. If a guy imprints on you, he’ll do anything for you. He’d literally protect you with his life.”

“Unlike the losers in this place,” Ariah mutters between bites. “None of them are even imprint-worthy.”

“I can think of a few,” Celeste counters, fluttering her sooty lashes at the ceiling. “There’s Adam, Vic, Elijah, Cory—”

“Excuse me, I was talking,” Nate quips, shooting her a look before turning back to me. “An imprint is an unbreakable bond that forms between two souls. It usually happens when two spirits are eternally aligned—”

“What Nate is trying to say is that you’re destined to be together,” Ariah clarifies, cutting through the banter. “You’ll find each other in every life you live. Total devotion. Total love.”

“Ah, the passion!” Celeste gushes, giving me a playful wink.

“Though, unfortunately, I think ours got stuck somewhere in the cosmos,” Ariah miffs.

“Or the afterlife,” Celeste laments. “There’s also the distinct possibility the dumbass hasn’t even been born yet.”

I bite down on a smile and turn back to Nate. “Is it something you can actually feel when it happens? Does it go both ways?”

He throws an annoyed glance at the girls before answering. “You both feel it. It’s like two magnets being pulled together by a force you can’t fight. It’s powerful, Hailey.”

“Like being in love?” I ask. Not that I have a clue what that actually feels like.

“Yes, but multiplied by a million. I can’t really do it justice, but you’ll know if you’ve been imprinted. Trust me.”

I chew on my bottom lip, weighing whether to tell them what I overheard during Elijah and Valerie’s blowout. Sure, Elijah is undeniably swoon-worthy, but I don’t feel any “magnetic pull.” If anything, I just feel confused. “Does it take time?” I press.

Nate’s brows shoot up. “Time? What do you mean?”

“The bond. Does it take time to grow? Or is it instant the second you lay eyes on each other?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. It might be different for everyone.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I can’t testify to the specifics since it hasn’t happened to me yet. Though I wouldn’t mind if it did.”

My heart hammers against my ribs as I finally find my courage. “See, earlier I overheard—”

“Hello, everyone!”

The words die in my throat as Elijah suddenly appears beside our table. A short girl with a crown of auburn curls shadows him. “This is Katie. Another new pup.”

I exhale a sharp breath of relief, my cheeks burning with a heat fiercer than the depths of hell. What do you know? I almost made a complete fool of myself.

It turns out I’m not the only new “mutt”—Valerie’s word, not mine—in town.

Katie’s wide silver eyes sparkle with excitement as she scans the table. “Elijah says one of you is new here, too?”

I give her a small wave. “That would be me.”

She extends her hand immediately. “Hi! I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”

I take it, shaking her hand while noticing Nate unsuccessfully hiding a smirk behind his palm. “Honestly, me too. But unfortunately, because of my mark, I still stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Worse than a sore thumb,” Nate chirps.

I sputter a laugh. “Yeah, thanks, Nate.”

“So, Katie,” Celeste inquires, leaning in. “Were you born into the club, or specially hand-picked from the planet of Norm?”

Katie smiles brightly. “Born and bred.”

“Born and bred?” Nate wiggles his eyebrows. “No offense, but why do people always say it that way? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Celeste nearly chokes on her milkshake. “Nate! ‘Bred’ as in raised, not… the other ‘bred’ you’re thinking of.”

“You mean produced? Formed? Cultivated—”

“Good gracious, Nate, get your mind out of the gutter,” Ariah groans, stretching her arms over the table.

“Says the girl who was gushing over half the student body ten minutes ago.” Nate rolls his eyes and offers Katie an apologetic look. “Sorry. We tend to get carried away.”

Elijah bites back a smile, glancing at Katie. “Told you they were interesting. I figured since you two”—he gestures between us—“are both new, you might relate and adapt a bit faster together.”

“That is so thoughtful of you,” Celeste enthuses, her voice dripping with adoration.

“Very,” Nate adds with a dramatic exhale.

I roll my eyes at them. “Thank you, Elijah.”

Katie doesn’t waste a second, pulling out a chair next to Nate and making herself at home. “Is the pizza as good as it looks?”

Nate slides a plate with two slices toward her. “Try it. It’s decent, but I’ve had better.”

Katie takes a bite, saying something I miss because, at that exact moment, Elijah leans in close to me.

“I heard you had a run-in with Valerie,” he says quietly. Around us, the table erupts into laughter at something Nate said, creating a small pocket of privacy.

“It was nothing.”

“When it comes to her, it’s never nothing.” He glances at my friends, then back to me, his expression softening. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever she said.”

I purse my lips, staring at the table. “I don’t see how it’s your fault.”

“What—” he hesitates. “What exactly did she say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

I shift under the weight of his gaze. There’s an intensity there that makes me feel… something. Warmth? A strange sense of security? I can’t quite name it.

“Are you okay?” Elijah slides a fraction closer. My skin tingles as the sleeve of his jacket brushes my arm.

I realize I’m staring at him like an idiot and force a frown to mask it. “Sorry. She just complained about standard queen bee stuff. You know, ruling the school and all that trash.”

“Yeah?” I can tell he doesn’t believe a word of it. “If she gives you any more trouble, let me know, okay?”

“Would that make a difference?” I cross my arms, giving him a knowing look. “She hardly seems like the type to follow orders.”

“No, she isn’t,” he admits. “But the Guardians don’t take harassment lightly. She’ll be punished if she crosses the line.”

“Elijah!” Katie calls out, holding up a slip of paper. “I think they gave me the wrong schedule. Come look at this.”

He offers me a crooked, apologetic smile before circling to her side of the table. As he leans down beside her, I can’t ignore the envious twist in my stomach. Katie is looking at him like he’s a five-course meal, and I can’t even blame her. He is nice to look at. Really nice.

I watch them closely, replaying the conversation I overheard between him and Valerie. He talks to Katie the same way he talks to me—polite, helpful, easy. Nothing special. Nothing noteworthy.

So who the hell is the new girl he imprinted on?

---

I push open the heavy, creaking door of the library, and the scent of aged leather and musty paper immediately envelops me. The space is gargantuan, with ceilings that soar into the darkness, supported by arched beams of dark oak. Flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows against the stone walls, illuminating ancient tapestries that depict forgotten werewolf wars and the lineages of past rulers.I pass the long front desk manned by a few librarians. The rubber soles of my sable sneakers squeak against the cold, smooth stone, the sound echoing until I step onto the large, intricately woven rugs scattered throughout the floor.

I head straight for the aisle Celeste pointed out earlier, offering her a quick wave before disappearing into the labyrinth of bookshelves.

Each section is marked with a hand-carved plaque, the inscriptions barely legible in the dim light. They guide the way through different realms of knowledge: Alchemy, Herbology, History. The books are bound in various shades of weathered leather; some are adorned with gold leaf, others locked away with intricate metal clasps. Many are so ancient their titles have vanished entirely, leaving only the cracked texture of the spines to hint at the secrets within.

The book I’m looking for is impossible to miss—massive, bound in silver, with a cascade of strange symbols inscribed on its spine. I hesitate, my hand hovering over it. The binding looks fragile, and I’m acutely aware of a girl watching me from a nearby armchair, her eyes tracking my every move. I know this book is priceless; the last thing I need is to be the “new girl” who trashed a relic.

I glance back toward the front desk, considering asking for help, when a voice cuts through the silence.

“So. The Book of the Divine?”

I nearly jump out of my skin, whirling around to find Elijah already tugging the heavy silver volume off the shelf with effortless ease.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I reach for the book, but he lifts it just out of my grasp, his height giving him the upper hand.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice dropping a decibel. “I’m curious what that mark of yours means, too.”

“Yeah, you, me, and the entire student body,” I snort, but the smile slips from my lips when I notice he isn’t joking. His expression is dead serious. “Sure. I guess.”

“Great.” Without another word, he turns and heads for a heavy oak table in the corner. I let out a quiet sigh and hurry after him.

By the time I pull out a chair, he already has the book splayed open, his fingers dancing across the thick, parchment-like pages. He gestures vaguely toward my neck. “Can you—your hair?”

I sweep my hair back, exposing the mark. I keep my eyes glued to the book, trying to ignore how close he’s sitting. Elijah pauses on a page near the middle, his gaze flickering back and forth between the ink on the page and the skin of my neck. He reaches out, his hand hovering as if to trace the mark, but his fingers barely graze my skin before he jerks back.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his voice slightly rough. He clears his throat and points to an illustration. “This one looks quite similar.”

He’s right. Both are shaped like crescent moons, but the one in the book features an intricate circular pattern inside the curve. Mine does, too—except one of my mini-circles is stained a dark, bruised crimson.

“Does it make a difference?” I ask, leaning closer. “It’s just one circle.”

“In this book, everything makes a difference.” He stabs a finger at a symbol near the top of the page. “See this one? Now look at the one below it.”

“Yeah. They look identical.”

“Look closer.”

I press my palms flat against the desk and lean in, my shoulder almost touching his. Both symbols are boxy, filled with a web of intricate, overlapping lines. They look exactly the same—until I spot the tiny variation. “Oh. That one has an extra horizontal line.”

“Exactly. Now read the translations.”

I squint at the archaic text underneath. “The first one says… Sunlight. And the second one says…” I trail off, my heart skipping a beat. “Oh.”

“Yes. One means sunlight.” His fist curls beside the book. “And?”

“One means torture,” I murmur, the word tasting bitter. I look up at him with a frown. “And we actually have to study these? Wow, your exams must really suck.”

A faint, genuine smile cracks his stoic expression. “You have no idea.”

“I see a lot of symbols that look like the ones on my neck,” I say, turning back to the silver pages.

“But none of them are identical,” he points out, his voice dropping. “At least, not the ones we’ve seen so far. And in case you haven’t noticed, there are thousands of variations to sift through. It’s a needle in a haystack.”

“This is going to take forever, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrow as a thought strikes him. “I have an idea. If you’re okay with it.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I watch him fish a sleek smartphone from his pocket. “Mind if I take a few pictures of the mark? Close-ups.”

I eye the lens, suddenly defensive. “Why?”

“So I can help you research. I can cross-reference the symbols when I’m not stuck in the library.”

I lean back, crossing my arms. “I can handle the research myself, Elijah. You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“You aren’t allowed to take this book out of the room, Hailey. And my father happens to own the only other copy in existence.” He leans in, mirroring my crossed-arm stance. “How do you plan to research properly? Unless you intend to move into the library permanently?”

My eyes widen. “Wait… there are only two copies of that book? In the whole world?”

“Unfortunately,” he nods. “Have you noticed how closely the staff has been tracking us since we pulled it from the shelf?”

I turn slowly, my gaze drifting toward the front desk. Every single librarian is staring at us with hawk-like intensity. I offer them a stiff, awkward smile before twisting back to him. “I knew it was valuable, but I didn’t realize it was sacred.”

“The only reason we’re allowed to touch it is because it’s on the syllabus,” Elijah explains. “Even then, a librarian is usually required to sit with a student while they read it. There have been plenty of… let’s call them ‘enthusiastic’ collectors who’ve tried to steal it.”

I knit my brows together. “Then why are they all still standing twenty feet away?”

He offers a slow, confident grin. “Because you’re sitting with me.”

I roll my eyes, though I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “Oh, right. The future King of Wolves gets a free pass. My mistake.”

“Something like that,” he shrugs, waving the phone again. “So… can I?”

“Fine. If it helps, why not?” I reach back and sweep my hair over my shoulder, exposing the heat of my skin and the mark to his camera.

Chapter 7

Elijah leaves after twenty minutes, citing “Guardian business” that needs his attention. He promises to track me down the second he finds a lead, but as I watch him walk away, I feel a sudden, hollow chill.

I hope he has better luck than I’ve had. I flip through one more page, then another, promising myself each one will be the last before I give up for the night. But the Book of the Divine is beginning to feel less like a resource and more like a maze.

A dark, nagging weight settles in my chest, refusing to be ignored. I can’t stop replaying the conversation from lunch—or the warning I saw on Mrs. Humphrey’s wall about absorbing the energy of the one who marks you.

What if I become evil? The thought is a cold shiver down my spine. Is that why my mark is different? Because the energy inside it is tainted?

When I’m not spiraling over the tattoo clinging to my neck like a soul-sucking leech, my mind drifts back home. A wave of bone-deep sadness washes over me at the thought of my parents. Part of me—the naive part—hopes my dad will eventually reason with my mom. Maybe they’ll call the school. Maybe they’ll send a letter saying this was all a terrible mistake. But the silence from the outside world suggests otherwise.

I’m gathering my things, ready to retreat to the safety of my bed, when my eyes catch a small, discreet sign: Library Assistants Wanted.

I remember the Ariah mentioning it. Between the mystery of my mark and the drama of the academy, keeping my head straight is getting harder by the hour, but a job is exactly what I need. Stress and procrastination aren’t going to pay the bills, and I need to be able to stand on my own two feet around here.

I stuff my notebooks into my backpack and head for the front desk, mentally rehearsing a confident pitch.

“May I help you?” A strict-looking librarian with a mountain of thick copper curls and russet-painted lips stares at me over the rim of her glasses.

I gulp, mustering the courage to speak. “Hi, I see you’re looking for new assistants?”

Her expression darkens, and she eyes me like I’m intruding. But then her posture suddenly shifts as her eyes fell to my neck; she straightens her spine and offers a slight, practiced smile that allows my shoulders to finally drop an inch.

“Yes. In fact, we are.” She gives me a long, sideways look, her eyes lingering on my mark. “You’re new here.”

It isn’t a question, but I nod anyway. “I am.” To prove I’m serious, I push through the nerves. “I’m a fast learner, I’m hardworking, and I’m never late. I’m good with numbers, and organization is probably my strongest suit.”

What I don’t say is that I’d practically sell my soul for this job; I need the distraction—but mostly, the money—likely more than anyone else in this building. I take a breath, ready to rattle off a list of every odd job I’ve ever held, but she holds up a single, slender finger. I snap my mouth shut instantly.

“I see,” she says, inclining her head. “Give me a moment, won’t you?”

I nod, watching her disappear into a small office behind the oak desk while my heart hammers against my ribs. When she reappears, she’s holding a crisp, cream-colored form.

“I’ll need you to fill this out.”

“Sure. Let me grab a pen from my—”

“No need. Use this.” She offers me a heavy, silver-capped pen. “When can you start?”

I take the pen, my brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? You mean… if I’m approved?”

She clicks her tongue, her smile widening just enough to be unsettling. “You’re already hired.”

My jaw actually drops. “Just like that? No interview?”

“Well, if the Goddess approves…” She waves a vague, elegant hand toward the mark on my neck. “Then I’m sure you’ll be one of our very best.”

“Am I hired already because of this?” I ask, tapping the silver pen against my mark.

“The Goddess’s opinion is the only one that carries weight,” Dibella says, her voice low and reverent. “You are special to her. We would risk her favor if we treated you as anything less.”

I blink, a dry laugh catching in my throat. “I can think of a few people who wouldn’t agree with you on that.” Valerie, for one.

“Then they are fools.” She stares down at the form expectantly. “Are you going to sign?”

“Uh, yes. Right.” I lean over the counter, pressing the tip of the pen to the paper. “I can start as soon as you need me.”

“We needed you a year ago,” she sighs, though her eyes remain on me. “I’ll give you time to settle in. Is a week enough? Can you start next Monday?”

“That’s more than enough time.” Honestly, I’d start today just to keep my hands busy and my thoughts quiet.

“Perfect.” A genuine smile finally breaks through her strict facade. “I’m Dibella. You’ll be working directly under me. You do not take orders from the other librarians. Do you understand?”

I pause. “So if they ask me to do something, I just… refuse?”

“Exactly,” Dibella affirms, her chin lifting with a touch of territorial pride. “Everyone has their own assistants. I have mine.”

“Oh. Okay.” I finish the signature and slide the form back across the polished wood.

“How about a cup of tea and some cookies?” she asks, sweeping the form aside as if it were a mere formality. “If you don’t have anywhere to be, of course?”

I suddenly become aware of the heavy silence in the room. A few feet away, three students are glaring at me with unfiltered hostility. I notice the small plaques pinned to their chests: Library Assistant.

My stomach turns. My mark isn’t just a symbol; it’s a target. I got in too easily, and they know it.

I swallow hard, flashing Dibella a strained smile. “I’m so sorry, but I actually have some things I have to take care of.”

“Well, that is unfortunate.” Her shoulders slump, a look of disappointment washing over her features. “Another time, then?”

“Of course.” I give her a small wave and hurry toward the exit, needing to get away from those burning glares.

I’ve barely taken two steps out the door when a tall girl barrels into my path. She’s lugging a heavy plastic bucket, filled to the brim with a thick, dark crimson liquid.

“What is—”

Before I can finish, she heaves the bucket upward. A wave of warm, metallic-smelling fluid slams into my face. It’s heavy and viscous, coating my skin and stinging my eyes. The copper taste of blood pools in my mouth, and I gag, spitting frantically as it drips down my chin.

“A fair warning, little pup,” the girl snarls, letting the empty bucket clatter to the stone floor. “Next time, you’ll be bathing in your own.”

“You’re crazy!” I cough, the back of my throat burning. My backpack hits the floor with a thud as I try to wipe my eyes. “Why?”

“A message from the Queen.” With a sharp flick of her honey-blonde hair, she turns on her heel and stalks away.

“Valerie?” I wipe a hand across my mouth, my vision clearing enough to see the red trail she left behind. “Crazy b—”

“Hailey?” Celeste’s voice rings out as she rushes from the library. “Sorry, I just finished—what the hell happened?”

“Valerie. She’s insane, Celeste.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Celeste pulls a bundle of tissues from her bag and starts dabbing at my forehead. “Did the messenger say why?”

“She didn’t have to. I have a pretty good idea.” I scowl at a group of passing students who have stopped to gawk. An oily, vicious heat bubbles up in my chest, more intense than any anger I’ve felt before. “What are you looking at?” I snap.

They flinch, picking up their pace and looking away.

“It’s pig’s blood. I can smell it.” Celeste taps her nose, then sighs at the state of my clothes. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we can plot exactly how we’re going to handle that wicked witch.”

---

A few minutes before midnight, I slip my jacket over my shoulders, the fabric rustling softly in the silver moonlight filtering through the window. I watch Ariah for a beat, careful not to wake her. Her breathing is steady and rhythmic, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only thing breaking the stillness of the room. It’s odd how even that tiny movement triggers my awareness now.

These werewolf senses are going to take some getting used to.

As I toe my way toward the door, I can’t shake the prickle of being watched. An uneasy chill crawls up the back of my neck, forcing me to glance over my shoulder. My empty bed looms in the shadows—a silent, dark reminder of the girl who was brutally murdered right where I’m supposed to sleep. I let out a shaky breath, wondering how long it’ll be before I can rest here without feeling like a ghost is tucked in beside me.

I turn back to the door, pulling it open and slipping into the hallway—only to ram straight into a solid wall of chest and muscle.

“Whoa, careful.” Elijah’s hands dart out, his fingers wrapping around my upper arms to steady me.

He’s in gray sweats and a wrinkled shirt, barefoot as if he just rolled out of bed. Even in this disheveled state, he looks effortlessly, infuriatingly good. My heart does a frantic flip that I try my best to ignore.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, his voice low and raspy with sleep.

My brows knit together. “I should ask you the same thing. What are you even doing on the girls’ side of the dorms?”

“I, uh…” He lifts an arm to scratch the back of his head, offering a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Please don’t ask. It’s kind of stupid and embarrassing.”

I shoot him a sideways look, a smirk finally tugging at my lips. “Don’t tell me… you’re a sleepwalker?”

“Maybe,” he huffs, his grin widening as his eyes linger on mine. The intensity in his gaze makes the hallway feel much smaller than it is. “And you? Is there a dorm party I wasn’t invited to?”

“I wish.” I roll my eyes. “I have a first lesson with Mrs. Humphrey.”

“Oh.” He straightens, the sleepy haze leaving his eyes. “That soon? She usually waits a month or so to let the new students settle in first.”

“Yeah. Guess it has something to do with this.” I gesture vaguely toward my neck. “Did you find anything yet?”

“No, not yet,” he exhales sharply, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “I’m not even halfway through the volume. It’s going to take time, but I’m confident there’s a match in there somewhere.”

“I hope so,” I murmur, the darkness of the hallway suddenly feeling heavier. “I’d like some actual answers.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He gazes at me intently, his eyes searching mine before he speaks again. “Want me to walk with you? It’s a long trek to be making in the dark alone. I’m actually surprised she didn’t arrange for a Guardian escort.”

I won’t lie—the idea of wandering through the sprawling, shadowed grounds by myself wasn’t exactly thrilling. “Actually, I’d appreciate that.”

“Did she tell you what you’re covering for your first session?” Elijah asks, adjusting his stride to match my pace.

“Something about tapping into the spiritual realm,” I answer. “One of the teachers gave me the roster. They said she’d sent it over.”

“She did?” His brows draw taut, a shadow of suspicion flickering in his expression. “That’s unusual. She almost always delivers the first summons in person.”

“Maybe she was busy,” I shrug as we reach the stairs. I decide to shift the focus back to him. “So, are you going to tell me about this ‘sleepwalking’ thing?”

“It’s not exactly sleepwalking.” He pinches his lips together, shooting me a guarded, sideways look. “It’s… complicated.”

“Oh?” I grin, nudging his shoulder with mine. “Were you out seeing a girl, then? Getting caught on the wrong side of the dorms?”

“No!” His eyes go wide, and the sheer panic in his voice makes me burst out laughing. “It’s not like that. I swear.”

“Yeah?” I giggle, enjoying the way his cool composure has completely evaporated. “Because you’re making it sound exactly like that.”

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says, a small smile finally appearing, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Look, I’ll explain it to you. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” I raise an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook. “Why not now? We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“Because,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, serious vibration. “It’s complicated.”

“Again with the ‘it’s complicated’?” I smirk, shoving my hands deep into my jacket pockets. “Okay, then.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks genuinely embarrassed. He doesn’t get a chance to respond, though, because we’ve already reached Mrs. Humphrey’s office.

“Her door is closed,” I note, glancing at the dark wood. “I’ll knock. Maybe she’s in the middle of something?”

I reach forward, my fist poised to rap against the door, when it unexpectedly flies open. The Headmistress stands there, her sharp eyes flickering between Elijah and me. “Yes?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Humphrey,” I say, offering my best polite smile. “I’m here for my lesson.”

“What lesson?” Her dark, elegant brows knit together in immediate confusion. “We don’t have anything planned for tonight.”

“But the roster…” I glance doubtfully at Elijah, who only offers a confused shrug in return. I turn back to her. “It said on the schedule that my sessions were supposed to start tonight at midnight.”

“No, dear, I did no such thing,” she replies, her tone firm and final. “I haven’t even mapped out your curriculum yet. You aren’t scheduled to begin until next month.”

“But a teacher gave this to me,” I protest, a sinking feeling starting to settle in my gut.

“Which one?” she asks, her voice lacing with uncertainty. “And may I see it?”

I dig into my pocket and pull out the crumpled sheet of paper, handing it over. She scans it, shaking her head almost immediately. “Who gave this to you?”

“Lenny,” I admit, the name slipping out before I can catch it. “I don’t have classes with him. Not yet, anyway.”

“Len,” Elijah coughs into his hand beside me, his voice a low warning. “She means Mr. Len.”

“Oh.” I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Damn it, Ariah. “Sorry. There are so many new names to keep track of.”

“Hm. Did he say where he got it from?” When I shake my head, she sighs, her lips thinning with annoyance. “It appears one of the students is trying to prank you. This tactic has been used before, I’m afraid—students passing notes to teachers and claiming they’re from another department. A classic, if tedious, deception.”

She hands the paper back to me, her attention already shifting. “Elijah, why don’t you walk Miss Woods back to her dorm? I have another student to tend to.”

“Sure.” Elijah pulls a face as the door slams shut, the wood echoing in the quiet hallway. He glances at me, his eyes searching. “So, who do you think is behind it?”

Valerie, obviously. “No idea,” I lie, not wanting to start another war tonight. “Let’s just go. This place is starting to give me the creeps.”

Elijah departs for the boys’ wing once I’ve slipped back into my room, and I’m relieved to find Ariah still fast asleep. I kick off my shoes and drape my jacket over the back of a chair, climbing into bed with practiced silence. As I pull the covers up, a flicker of white catches my periphery—a shape darting in and out of the shadows.

My heart drops into my stomach as I snap my head toward the movement. But when I look, there’s nothing in the corner besides a shelf of dusty books. I let out a shallow, shaking breath, forcing myself to slide under the covers.

The last thing I think before tumbling into the oblivion of sleep is that it’s going to take a long time to forget that a girl died exactly where I’m lying.

Minutes—or maybe hours later—a piercing screech rips me from my dreams. A heavy thud sounds from the other side of the room, followed by Ariah cursing.

“Oh, crap,” she mutters. “Hailey? You awake?”

I bolt upright, blinking at her silhouette in the dark. “Who could sleep through that? What’s going on?”

“I have no idea,” she says, crossing to the wall and flicking on the light. I cringe, squinting as my eyes scream at the sudden brightness.

“Sounds like some kind of emergency alarm.” Ariah unlocks the door and pokes her head into the hallway. “What’s happening?” she calls out to someone.

I kick off the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. I grab a hoodie from the closet and tug it over my head, the alarm still wailing in the distance.

When I turn back, Ariah is frantically sliding into her slippers. “Everyone has to go to the cafeteria. Right now.”

I blink, my brain still foggy from sleep. “Why? Did they say what it is?”

“No. Just that it’s urgent and anyone who doesn’t show up is in deep trouble.”

“Great. Fine.” I reach for my flip-flops. As I bend down to pull them on, I catch movement again—a flash of light out of the corner of my eye. Annoyed at my own paranoia, I twist around to catch the inanimate object playing tricks on me.

Except this time, it isn’t a trick. A pale, blurred shape bolts directly under my bed.

A cry of pure panic escapes me. I leap toward Ariah, grabbing her arm so hard she winces, and point a trembling finger at the frame of my bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, glancing between the bed and me. “I swear, if it’s a spider, I’m out.”

“There’s someone down there,” I choke out.

Her brows shoot up, her expression skeptical. “No, there isn’t. No one can get into this room without a key or a Guardian pass.”

“Ariah,” I force the words out, my voice tight. “There is someone under my bed. I know I didn’t imagine it.”

“I was exactly like this after the Sally thing.” She gently pries her arm out of my grip. “It’s perfectly normal to be paranoid after what you’ve been through. I really shouldn’t have told you about the murder.”

Ariah casually walks toward the bed and lifts the heavy duvet.

I shriek, stumbling backward until I hit the wall. My heart stops. Staring back at me from the shadows beneath my bed is a pale, hollow-eyed face.

“Ariah, there’s a girl under my bed!” I squeal, my finger trembling as I point. “She’s right there. She’s looking right at you!”

Ariah twists around to frown at me, her hand still holding the covers up. “Hailey, there is nothing but empty duffel bags.”

“Ariah, I swear! She’s right there!”

Ariah stiffens. Her gaze shifts back to the empty space I’m pointing at. She blinks a few times, her expression shifting from annoyance to a sudden, bone-chilling realization. She drops the covers as if they’ve burned her and backs toward the door.

“Okay,” she whispers, her face turning pasty. “I think we just discovered your talent.”

“What?” My voice shakes as I grimace. “Talent? How is seeing things a talent? I’m losing my mind!”

“I think you can see ghosts,” she says, her tone stiff. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. I kick off my single flip-flop, refusing to go anywhere near that bed to retrieve the other one, and bolt out the door after her.

The hallway is a frenzied mess. Students and teachers in a mishmash of pajamas and hastily thrown-on coats swarm toward the cafeteria, their frantic footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Sleepy eyes are wide with confusion and anxiety, and there is an unmistakable buzz of questions and nervous laughter.

In the midst of the pandemonium, one couple stands out, oblivious to the panic. Pressed against a wall in a heated kiss, their hands are tangled in each other’s hair as the crowd surges past. They remain locked in their own world until a teacher snatches them apart by their collars.

When we reach the cafeteria entrance, a hand suddenly closes around my arm. Already on edge, I let out a sharp cry and whirl around.

It’s Elijah. Again. He seems to find me everywhere. “Are you okay?” he asks, his gaze searching my face.

I nod, trying to find my breath. “Yeah. Just… what’s going on?”

He sidles up next to me and leans in, his breath warm against my ear as he lowers his voice. “There’s a convict on the loose. He made it onto the grounds. They didn’t say who, but from what I’ve heard, he’s dangerous.”

A shiver runs down my spine, competing with the sudden burst of butterflies in my stomach.

“How did he get in?” I ask. Then, the blood drains from my face as the realization hits me. I look up at Elijah, my eyes wide with a new kind of terror. Oh, no. What if it’s Luca?

“No idea. They’re locking down the academy right now to find him. They’re gathering all the students here for safety reasons.”

I nod again as Ariah, whom I completely forgot about, speaks. “I thought we had the best security.”

Elijah raises a finger to his lips, giving her a warning look. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that much. Keep it quiet.”

Ariah’s lips part in surprise, and she gives a sharp nod of acknowledgment. “Noted.”

Elijah doesn’t let go of my arm as we weave through the bustling crowd. He leads me deeper into the cafeteria, but even through the sea of bodies, I don’t miss Valerie. She’s sitting at a central table, her eyes like icy daggers zeroed in on exactly where Elijah’s hand is touching me.

A low, involuntary whimper escapes my throat. I don’t even want to imagine what she has planned for an encore to the pig’s blood.

Elijah peers down at me, his brows knitting. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mutter, looking away from Valerie. “It looks like all the seats are taken, anyway.”

“We can sit in the back with the staff.”

Ariah points toward a far table where Nate, Celeste, and Katie are already huddled together, scanning the room for news. Nate spots us and waves frantically. “We tried holding your spots! But there’s only one left!” he shouts over the roar of the crowd.

Ariah and I exchange a quick, uncertain look.

“It’s fine, she can sit with me,” Elijah answers before I can even open my mouth. I blink at him, my heart doing that annoying stutter again. He just shrugs. “Like I said, there’s space with the teachers.”

“You sure?” Ariah asks, her forehead wrinkling. I can tell she’s hesitant to leave me, but honestly, the idea of sitting with Elijah is far more appealing than squeezing into a crowded table right now.

“Yeah, it’s okay. Go sit with them,” I tell her, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Elijah leads me toward the back of the hall, finding us a spot next to Mrs. June. As we sit, he finally lets go of my arm.

A sudden chill spreads across my skin where his hand had been—a stark, lonely contrast to the warmth I realize I’m already missing. I sink into the chair between him and Mrs. June, my pulse thrumming with anticipation as we wait for Mrs. Humphrey to take the stage.

Chapter 8

The crowd falls into a sudden, heavy silence as the Headmistress strides toward the podium, the massive cafeteria doors slamming shut behind her with a finality that makes my heart jump. The rhythmic click of her heels echoes through the cavernous space, and every eye in the room is fixed on her. I struggle to stifle a yawn behind my palm, fighting off the thick drowsiness that threatens to pull me under.

Leaning toward Elijah, I whisper, “What time is it, anyway?”

Without taking his eyes off Mrs. Humphrey, he reaches into his pocket. He waits for the Headmistress to glance toward a group of teachers before flicking on his screen, the blue light casting sharp shadows across his face. “Three forty-five.”

“No wonder I’m this tired,” I mutter. “I’ve had two hours of sleep, if I’m lucky.”

He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You and I both.”

I peek at him, my curiosity piqued despite the exhaustion. “Wait—you didn’t sleep either?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You always say that. I’d actually like to know what is so ‘complicated’ at some point.”

He glances at me, his brows knitting together in a way that suggests a internal battle, but he says nothing.

I fix him with a shrewd look. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“You’ll change your mind when you find out,” he says softly. He rips his gaze away from mine, refocusing on the front of the room.

A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach, and my mind drifts back to the argument I overheard—the one between Elijah and Valerie. They’d been fighting about the “new girl,” the one he supposedly imprinted on. Doubts churn inside me. I’m starting to fear I’ve stumbled into something far beyond my understanding.

I force my gaze away from him just as Mrs. Humphrey clears her throat.

“Good morning, Students of the Moon,” she announces, her voice sharp and commanding. “I apologize for disrupting your rest, but for your safety—and the safety of our staff—everyone must remain here until further notice.”

I watch her pace the stage, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces with hawk-like intensity. “Our security has been breached. There is a dangerous intruder roaming our grounds, and the guards are, as we speak, hunting for the perpetrator.”

A ripple of anxious murmurs spreads through the students.

“I ask that you all remain here until the situation is under control. Our kitchen staff has prepared hot chocolate and baked goods for you. Furthermore, classes for the day are canceled so you may catch up on your rest once we depart.”

A few students let out a hushed, weary cheer. “Yes!”

“Again, I apologize for the inconvenience, and I assure you that as long as you are at the academy, no harm will come to any of its students.” The headmistress sucks in a sharp breath. “For the time being, there will be guards stationed by each dorm. Do not be alarmed by their sudden presence.”

I pull a face, glancing toward Elijah. “Why does it sound like whoever is here plans to come back?”

He turns to me, his expression grave. “It sounds like that. But I think they’ll catch whoever it is.”

“Do you know who they’re looking for?”

He shakes his head. “They didn’t tell me, but it is clear they know exactly who this person is. That much is obvious.”

I slump back in my seat as Mrs. Humphrey continues, “Additionally, detention and other after-class activities will be moved to the second wing. Your teachers will inform you of the changes and new schedules. Have a good morning, everyone. Don’t hesitate to see your teachers, matrons, or me if you have any concerns.”

The room fills with the sound of students moving, but Elijah stays still. “Who do you think would try to lure you out with that fake timetable?” he suddenly asks.

“Probably someone trying to prank me, like Mrs. Humphrey said. Why?”

“Are you sure?” he presses. “I just find it weird.”

“Weird? How?”

Elijah leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Someone tried to get you out of your room at the exact same time there was a convict on the loose.”

“Must be some kind of creepy coincidence,” I shrug, thinking of how badly Valerie wants to ruin me. It has to be her. Who else would want me out in the middle of the night? Though, I’m pretty sure she didn’t expect a murderer to be roaming the grounds.

Or maybe she did. It is not unlikely that she hates me enough to go to those lengths.

“Really?” His eyes narrow with suspicion. “There’s a rumor flying around that a girl dumped pig’s blood on you.”

I stiffen. “Oh, that. It is no big deal.”

“It was Valerie, wasn’t it?”

I shrug, avoiding his gaze.

He curses under his breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It is not your problem, Elijah.”

“I am having her reported. She is not getting away with it.”

I jerk my head back. “Please, no. You do not have to do that. It is not such a big deal. She will back off.” Despite my words, I know that is not going to happen.

Elijah squints at me. “Are you afraid of her?”

“No,” I respond, my voice steady. That part is the truth. However, I cannot afford to provoke her further. I need to blend in to have any chance of adapting to this new life—and I have to do it without drawing any more unwanted attention.

“Is that so? Because it sure seems like you are.”

“I’m not.” My shoulders sag, and I let out a long sigh. “She is just being annoying.”

He peers at me for a moment, looking hesitant, before asking, “Is there a reason she is targeting you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she tell you why?”

I sigh again—louder this time. “Maybe.”

“Could you tell me?”

“It is not your problem.”

“Hailey.”

“Fine.” I give in. “She thinks there is something between us.”

Elijah stiffens beside me. “What exactly did she say that makes her think that?”

“It started the day I showed up. She said I smelled like you. That is why she came to that conclusion.”

He groans, falling back in his seat. “She is insane.”

“Yeah. I figured as much myself.”

“I am sorry, Hailey,” he apologizes. “I told her to leave you alone.”

“It is not your fault. You cannot help that she has issues.”

“I am fully to blame.”

“Oh?” I lean in, my curiosity winning out. “Why is that?”

“Well, it is part of all my complicated stories.”

“Let me guess. It is complicated?”

“Yes.” He rubs his eyes, his exhaustion obvious. “But we need to talk. It is going to come out eventually. I would rather you hear it from me.”

My heart races. This is it. The confirmation. My spine snaps straight. “What is it?”

It is at that exact moment that Nate appears, carrying a massive bowl of marshmallows and a cup of steaming hot chocolate. “Hey. You should try these. They are to die for.”

Elijah slumps back in his chair, muttering something incoherent under his breath.

---

The next day, the academy is silent. A heavy, unnatural hush blankets the hallways and common areas. The usual chatter of students is absent, replaced by an oppressive stillness. Even the birds outside seem muted, as if respecting the tension in the air. The lack of noise amplifies every creak of the old building. It feels as though the walls themselves are holding their breath.

Unlike the other students, who are lucky enough to stay in bed and catch up on sleep, I have been informed that I am needed at the library today. So much for having a week to settle in. Since we did not get back to our rooms until seven this morning, I am running entirely on caffeine fumes.

Ariah suggested hanging out in Celeste’s room until my shift started, but I turned her down and took a cold shower instead, hoping the temperature would shock my limbs to life. I know she is not keen on spending time in our room after what I saw. I do not blame her. I am not looking forward to sleeping in there, either.

After the icy shower, I stop by the cafeteria for a large coffee and two bacon croissants. I finish fueling my body and head for the library. As I round the corner of the hallway, I stop dead in my tracks. A whimper escapes my throat. “Not again.”

Right there, in the center of the hallway, stands a giant wolf sniffing the air.

It is not a normal wolf.

It is flimsy and see-through, flickering in and out like an ethereal creature from another world.

“Miss Woods?” A sharp voice pierces the silence. I jerk around to find Mrs. Humphrey standing behind me. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh… I am supposed to start working in the library today.”

“I see.” She peers past me, one of her dark, elegant brows quirking. “Can you see her?”

“Her?” I echo, glancing back at the wolf. “Yeah. It is hard to miss her.”

“You would be surprised. Students walk through her on a daily basis,” Mrs. Humphrey quips. She catches a breath, then adds matter-of-factly, “It seems you can see the dead, my dear.”

“I am sorry?” I groan, rubbing my forehead. “Out of all the abilities at our disposal, mine is to see the dead?”

“Yes, it appears so.” She does not seem to notice my irritation. Her tone remains light as she continues, “She cannot hurt you. She likes to busy herself by roaming the halls and occasionally howling. But that is the extent of it.”

“Did she die here?”

“Yes. She was a Guardian a generation ago,” she answers, settling her gaze on me. “When did you start seeing them?”

“The dead?” When the headmistress inclines her head, I continue, “I think it started since I got marked.”

She releases a low whistle. “Well, they are harmless, but the moment they figure out you see them, they will not leave you alone. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.”

“You cannot help them cross over?”

She shakes her head. “No one can help them cross over. It is their own demons holding them back, and only they can let them go.”

“That is terrible.”

“I know, but it is the way of things.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “I will not hold you any longer. Why don’t you get back to work?”

I turn toward the hallway and hesitate, my eyes fixed on the wolf.

Mrs. Humphrey sighs behind me. She presses a hand to my lower back, nudging me forward. “Just walk. Past her, through her. It does not matter, to be truthful. They cannot feel us.”

I squeak as I move through the wolf. A gust of cold air wraps around me like an icy blanket. “I can feel her!”

The headmistress releases a small, girl-like laugh. “Oh, hush now. You are not hurting her.”

“How do you know?” I do not look at the headmistress until we stop in front of the library door. The wolf resumes her business, sniffing everything in the vicinity, unbothered by an audience.

“Because I have talked to some of them,” she says. “But like I said, they do not leave you alone when they find out you see them. You do not have to worry about the wolves, though. They do not seem to be aware of their surroundings at all.”

“Oh.”

“There are a few spells and trinkets you can use to keep them at bay if it becomes too much,” she explains. “We will discuss it in one of the lessons soon enough. Anyhow, I have things to take care of.” She turns to walk away, pausing a few steps into the hall. “Oh, Miss Woods. Do not wander off too far on your own during the evenings. Ask one of the guards to escort you. Or one of your friends, all right?”

I frown at her back as she moves out of sight. Okay then.

“Here you are!” Dibella sings. She reaches for my arm and drags me into the library. “I have some exciting tasks ready for today. But first—” She faces me. “I made us some cookies and got the tea boiling.”

“Sounds great.” I do not miss the annoyed glares from the other assistants. They are already busy arranging books and stamping papers. “So, where should I start?”

“Tea and cookies first.” Dibella signals toward the other side of the massive room. “I already finished the stamps for today, so you do not have to worry about them.”

“Right.” I watch her as she hurries to the coffee corner at the back. Dibella reaches for two plates, stacks them with all kinds of pastries, and pours our tea.

I look down at my shoes as one of the assistants walks up beside me. He slams a stack of books onto the counter. “Must be great to be special,” he snips in a low voice. “Most of us actually work for our keep.”

“I am sorry?” I lift my gaze to scowl at him. “I just got here. And if you have not noticed, she is my boss. I am waiting for her to tell me what to do. That is how a job works, right?”

“Obviously,” he snaps. “But since you are the all-holy around here, she gives you a free pass.”

My mouth drops open, and I huff. “All-holy? What are you on about?”

He jabs a finger toward my neck. “That stupid mark of yours.”

“If it helps, I think it is stupid too,” I bite out. “I never asked for this.”

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Just stay out of my way, and do not think we are cleaning up after you.”

I gape after him as Dibella pops out of nowhere, positioning my plate of pastries on the counter and handing me my tea.

“Thank you,” I mutter, watching the boy stalk to the closest table and snatch up a pile of books. I settle my focus on Dibella, who is already taking a bite out of a muffin. “What should I start working on?”

She waves a hand at me. “Do not worry about that now.”

I sigh miserably into my tea, not missing the dirty looks shot in my direction yet again. This is going to be a long day. And believe me, it was.

Things return to normal as much as they can at a school for wolves the next day. Well, except for Ariah and me. We have been wide awake all night, our nerves on edge. Every creak and rustle has us jumping. By 2 AM, we surrendered to insomnia and played cards until dawn. Just when sleep finally began to creep in, the bedside alarm jolted us awake, dragging us back to reality.

“We cannot go on like this,” Ariah yawns, stretching her arms above her head. “We have to do something.”

I stifle a yawn of my own, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “What do you think we can do?”

“I do not know,” she sighs. “Can you see her now?”

I shake my head. “I have not seen her since the last time.”

“Was it the first time you saw her?” she asks. I told Ariah last night about my encounter with Mrs. Humphrey and that, according to her, I have the ability to see the dead. Ariah thinks it is the coolest thing ever.

I do not. Why can I not do something great, like Nate, who can predict the future? Or have a wicked sense of smell, like Celeste? No, wait—scratch that. That sucks too. But being able to see the dead?

This is so unfair.

“Yeah, but…” I hesitate, unsure if I should tell Ariah about the note. She is already on edge. The letter will only make things worse.

“But?” She side-eyes me, crossing her arms. “What happened? I can tell something happened.”

I lower my brows. “It is okay, forget it.”

She rushes up from her bed and blocks my path to the closet. “The hell it is. If I am sleeping in a room where dodgy stuff is going down, I want to know. So, spill it.”

I swallow, peering back toward the bed. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can. Is that even a serious question?”

“I am serious. I know someone who will get incredibly upset if he finds out.”

I do not know Elijah well enough to confirm that theory, but I know if it were my sister, I would be upset. I initially wanted to tell him about the note. But it was a plea for help, and now his sister has appeared under my bed.

I do not want to tell him. How do you tell someone you can see their dead loved one and that she is asking for help?

“I do not know what to do about this,” I release a ragged breath. I move to the foot of my bed and push it to the side. Maybe showing Ariah will shed some light on the situation. She might have advice. “You are not going to like this, but I think she reached out to me before.”

I drop to my knees, running my fingers across the floorboards until I find the one shifting beneath my touch.

“Ah, here it is.” I nudge out the floorboard, sticking my fingers into the gap and feeling around. “It is in here somewhere. I—got it!”

I withdraw the note and hold it out to Ariah.

“What is this?” she asks.

“Read it. Then I will explain.”

She takes it with great reluctance, unwraps the paper, and begins to read. When she is finished, she gapes at me. “Okay. I am guessing this is from Sally, right? Addressed to an L?”

“Luca—I mean, Lucian?” I suggest.

“Actually, not necessarily,” she informs me. “It could be for Elijah.”

“I do not follow. How?”

“Well, Elijah has two names. Liam is the other. Sally used to call him that.” Ariah rolls her eyes. “She used to joke about how his name was overrated, being the future Alpha and all that. You know, Elijah this, Elijah that. She preferred to call him by a name she was not fed up with hearing her love-struck friends constantly gush over. Look, I do not blame her. It is kind of weird to hear your friends going off about how they would like to kiss him and—” She clears her throat. “Sorry. I am getting carried away again. Anyhow, he could also be the ‘L’ in this letter.”

“So this could be for Elijah?” I hesitate, the weight of the paper feeling heavier in my hand. “Do you think I should tell him?”

“Yeah. I mean, listen to this.” She raises the letter to read it out loud. “‘By the time you read this letter, it will be too late. I want you to know that this key holds all the answers. Be careful how you use it, as it can either bring good fortune or unleash hell.’ Hailey, this sounds important. Do you not think so? You should give this to Elijah, even if it is not meant for him. Wait—did you find the key?”

My lips part in realization. I hold up a finger. “Give me a second. I have it here.”

I fall back onto my knees and stick my fingers into the gap to feel for the key, except… “It is gone,” I exclaim. “No, wait. Let me just make sure.”

I poke every corner of the small space and frown. “I put it in here. I know I did.”

“Wait, let me grab my phone.” Ariah crosses the room, snatches her phone from the nightstand, and flicks on the flashlight. “Use this.”

She hands me the phone, and I hold the light over the gap, scanning the small space. It is completely empty.

“Ariah, I swear, the key was in here. I did not tell anyone about it.”

She blinks. “What are the chances a ghost can take it? No, that is insane. A ghost cannot move objects.”

“I do not know.” I raise my gaze to hers, shaking my head. “Did you bring anyone here while I was out?”

“No,” she answers. “Only you and I have been in this room.”

I do not like the way she looks at me. Her pale face mimics my own dread.

“Hailey,” she whispers. “I think someone has been in our room.”

Chapter 9

My first physical training class is nothing like I expect. I assume it will involve tossing balls and jogging around the gym—standard human stuff. As I walk in, I am hit with the smell of sweat and adrenaline, a heavy mix of human and wolf. Reinforced weight stations line the walls, each rack packed with plates designed to handle beastly strength. There are padded areas for practicing transformations, ensuring that students do not tear the place apart when they are in their wolf forms.

According to flyers stuck to one side of the wall, they offer agility courses designed to test speed and stealth—perfect for honing hunting skills.

My eyes fall on the mirrored walls on one side of the room. “What is the point of padded walls if those are there?”

“Special enchanted mirrors, girl. Tough enough to survive accidental claw swipes.” Celeste tosses her duffel bag beside mine, winking. “Everything in here is wolf-proof.”

“Right. So—”

“Good morning, students,” a voice interrupts, silencing my inquiry into training methods. I spot a short, stout lady with long silver hair standing by the entrance. Her gray eyes seek out Katie and me among the crowd. “As you might already be aware, we have two new students in our midst.” She offers us a quick smile. “I am Mrs. Krane, for all intents and purposes.”

I shrink between a group of students in an attempt to hide, while Katie nods in acknowledgment as she steps forward. Mrs. Krane continues. “Today is your lucky day. We will be practicing the most important aspect of being a child of the moon: how to transform and keep the beast under control while doing it.”

A few students squeal with excitement, while others groan in dismay.

Katie’s hand shoots up.

“Yes, uh?” Mrs. Krane turns her attention to Katie.

“Katie,” she replies. “So, you mean how to turn into a wolf?”

“Yes. That is exactly what I mean.” She reaches for a stack of papers on a table beside her. “Headmistress Humphrey has assigned you ideal partners to encourage, support, and practice with during this term. Please understand that she spent a great deal of time planning out these pairings, so do not come to me later asking to swap. It cannot be undone. The Headmistress did this for a reason. Later this term, you will write an exam based on what you learned with your partner, and then it will become clear why you were paired with them. Again, there will be no swapping partners. Understood?”

Everyone exchanges anxious glances, no doubt wondering who their partner will be.

Celeste is the first name called. She is paired with a tiny blonde girl I have seen around but never talked to. After a few names, Nate is partnered with Ariah. They high-five each other, and I cannot help but smile at them.

The room falls dead silent when Elijah’s name is called. More than a few girls who have not been paired yet, including Valerie, push up on their toes to get a better look. The expressions on their faces make it obvious they are eager to be picked. Unfortunately, the moment Mrs. Krane calls my name, the death glares I receive are enough to kill me on the spot.

My legs feel like jelly as I keep my head down, moving toward the other side of the room where Elijah sits. I sink onto the bench to his left.

Elijah cracks a smile. “Thank goodness neither of us got Valerie.”

I sputter a laugh, earning more death stares from around the room. I elbow him in the ribs. “I think a few girls wanted to be partnered with you.”

He glances at me while Mrs. Krane continues pairing the remainder of the students. “Yeah, but probably because every girl wants to be a Luna.”

I eye him, biting down on a grin. “You never struck me as the egotistical type.”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head dismally. “Ugh. That is not what I meant.”

“What did you mean by that, then?”

“What I meant,” he says as he straightens his shoulders, “is that, like every human girl who dreams of becoming a princess, wolf girls dream of becoming a Luna. Who cares who the prince is? It is all about the show, the glory, and the power that comes with the title.”

“I see.” I rub my arms, feeling the weight of the gazes across the gym. “But I think those girls look pretty interested in the prince, not just the role that comes with him.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” he snorts. “I hope you are not too disappointed to be paired with me.”

“Actually, I am quite happy we got paired. I mean, we are sort of friends, right?”

He looks hesitant for a moment before the corners of his lips quirk. “Sure, we are.”

We watch as Mrs. Krane finishes pairing the last group of students. She turns her attention to the entire class.

“All right, Children of the Moon,” she calls out. “I will have one of you hand out the instructions. If you are lucky, some of you are paired with a student who has already been through the transformation process.”

I peek at Elijah, and he offers me another one of his wide grins. I roll my eyes, huffing, “You, obviously.”

“You would know.”

I give a soft, amused huff. “Yeah. The big bad wolf I was convinced was going to eat me.”

“Who knows? I might,” he winks, and I feel my cheeks grow hot. I know he means it as a joke, but my face betrays me anyway.

He nudges me with an elbow, leaning close enough that I can feel the heat of his skin. “You should see Cass’s wolf form.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. If you thought I was scary.”

I gulp. “Just great. A room full of wolves. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing,” he concurs. “We are more in control than you think. What Mrs. Krane meant by control is how to initiate the change. Imagine knowing you can turn into a wolf, but being unable to because you have no clue how.”

“Is that a thing?”

He nods. “It is.”

“All right, everyone,” Mrs. Krane announces. “Let us get started!”

Elijah gets up, holding out his hand to me. “Ready?”

My cheeks turn warm under his gaze as I let him help me up to my feet. “I don’t know about this.”

“You’ll do fine; you’ll see.” He leads the way into the center of the room, right in full view of everyone.

It is hard to shake off the glares as I come to a standstill beside him. I raise a hand, pointing toward the back of the gym. “Why not over there? Would it not be better if—”

“As a first-timer, space is a better option. There are already too many people over there, anyway.”

The sinking feeling grows inside my stomach. I cannot avoid this.

With some encouragement from Elijah, I follow the instructions given by Mrs. Krane. I keep my eyes closed, trying to picture my wolf form. But no matter how hard I try, I can only see the wolves I have already encountered: Elijah’s or the specters roaming the hallways. Apparently, you are supposed to conjure your wolf from thought. I have no clue how I am going to pull this off. I am not the imaginative type, and it seems that is essential for this.

Elijah, however, transforms over ten times within the span of an hour. He spends the remaining time focused on me. “You know, to turn, you actually need to breathe, Hails.”

A small laugh escapes me as I open my eyes to find him grinning at me.

“Breathe,” he says in a soft voice. “You do not want to pass out. You cannot transform if you are lying on the floor unconscious.”

There is an awful gagging sound from the back. We turn in time to see Katie throwing up. I cringe and look away. “Is that supposed to happen?”

I spot another student, a boy, slouching against a wall. He is sweating and panting heavily while his partner fans him with a notebook. My spine tenses. “Is this not supposed to come naturally?”

“That is normal.” Elijah slides in beside me. “Everyone handles it differently. Some never go through the change at all.”

“What do you mean? Do they fail the test?”

“No. They end up not turning at all, but they still carry special abilities and wolf traits. It does not mean you fail. It means you are meant for something else.”

“Like what? And what happens if you do change? What is the purpose besides controlling it?”

“Those who do not change often have stronger divination traits. They focus on that. The ones who do change might take on roles requiring physical strength, like battle or security. But it is not exclusive. It depends on the individual. The point is, we need to train for the change. Some have turned and could not turn back. Imagine living your entire existence as an animal.”

I make a face at the thought.

“Not that it is bad. We all love going wolf sometimes. It is in our nature. But being stuck like that?” He shakes his head. “I do not know.”

I gulp. “What if I turn and cannot turn back?”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I should not have told you that.”

“A bit late for that now.”

“Look, you will be fine. It does not happen often.”

“What is the percentage?”

He fights a smile. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I want to know.”

“Fine.” He cannot hold back his grin. “About five percent. Maybe less. Definitely not more.”

“Five percent seems like too much if you ask me.”

Mrs. Krane stops in front of us, having paced through the room as she checks on the progress of the students. “How are things going here?”

“Not so g—” I start, but Elijah interjects.

“Great,” he insists, rewarding the teacher with a broad smile. “She is making good progress. Better than I expected.”

“Ah, wonderful. I hope to see her wolf soon.” Satisfied, Mrs. Krane moves on to the next group.

“What was that about?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I am not doing as well as you implied.”

Elijah waits until Mrs. Krane is out of earshot before responding in a low voice. “Those who struggle have to take extra lessons. You already have a lot on your plate.”

“Oh. Is that not perfect?” I raise my chin to look at him. “But what if I actually need them?”

“I will help you, do not worry. You will get there. If you do not, I will give you extra lessons myself. Then you will not have to adapt your schedule to fit Mrs. Krane’s.”

I blink, surprised. “Wow. Okay, thank you. But you really do not have to do that.”

“I doubt it will be necessary anyway. You will get through the change.”

“How are you so confident I will make it through? Oh wait, let me guess.” I roll my eyes. “The marks, right?”

“No.” He smiles. “I just know.”

---

“Katie, are you sure you’re okay? I think we should go see the nurse,”Celeste says, her voice faltering as she stands by the door of the toilet cubicle.

Katie hunkers down in front of the toilet and throws up while Ariah sits next to her, rubbing her back. S shoots us a troubled look. “This started during physical training. It looks like the change is taking a negative toll on her.”

“She told me she has been feeling nauseous since before class. It started in English, right, Katie?” Celeste presses.

Katie holds up her thumb, nodding, before she continues to dry heave into the bowl.

The bathroom door swings open, and Nate breezes in. He locks the door behind him with a definitive click.

“Nate! You are not supposed to be in here!” Ariah’s eyes widen in shock.

He huffs, dropping his backpack on the counter by the sink and unzipping it. “None of you have anything I have not seen. I am not into girls, nor am I a creep.”

“You are still not allowed in here,” Ariah insists.

Celeste snorts, waving her off. “Whatever. What is the rush, Nate?”

“I have five letters for you: P. A. R. T. Y.”

“There is a party?” Celeste’s eyes sparkle with renewed interest, and she leans in eagerly. “When? Where? Who?”

“I do not know about you guys, but I am too tired for a party.” Ariah feigns a yawn. “And Katie is sick.”

Nate’s expression falls as he looks at Katie. “Well, we can take her to the nurse. She always has some kind of miracle cure.”

Katie shakes her head. “It is okay, guys. I am staying in. You can all have fun. But you had better bring me some candy for when I am better, okay?”

“See? She is okay with you going.” Nate flicks a hand toward Ariah.

“Nate!” Celeste scowls. “Be a bit more considerate.”

“No, it is really okay.” Katie finally pushes herself up from the floor and turns to smile at us. It is a weak one; her face is pale and beaded with sweat. “I can go to the nurse by myself. I am not a baby, you know?”

“Are you sure?” Celeste asks, her gaze ping-ponging between us.

“Yes, for real. You too, Ariah.” Katie’s eyes flick to Ariah. “Even if you’re tired. Who knows when the next party will be? Go have fun. Besides, it’s Friday. You can catch up on sleep over the weekend.”

“That’s the spirit!” Nate cheers, earning a punch on his arm from Celeste. “What?” He stares at her, looking baffled.

“What about you, Hailey?” Ariah focuses her attention on me. “You’re probably as tired as I am.”

I consider it for a moment. “You’re right. I am kind of tired.”

“Oh, come on, guys!” Nate whines. “Please? With sugar-coated sprinkles on top?”

“Nate…” Ariah rubs her face for a moment, then drops her hand to her side. “Fine. I will go.”

“Hails?” He peers at me with a saccharine-sweet smile. “Please? Hails?”

I sigh. “I do not even know what happens at these parties. Is there a theme?”

“All the more reason for you to go.” Nate drapes his arm over my shoulder and presses his cheek to mine. “We wolves know how to party. I promise it will be fun. And there will be plenty of cute boys.”

I am tired, but the thought of being in my room alone with that ghost makes my skin crawl. I hold back a groan. “Fine. I will go.”

“Yay!” Nate squeaks, clapping his hands excitedly.

“You still did not tell us when, where, or who is hosting,” Celeste points out. “A good party depends entirely on the host.”

“Valerie,” Nate replies. “You know she goes all out. We may not like her, but she is good at this.”

“No.” I reject the idea as fast as it is spoken. “I am not going. No way.”

“Oh, come on. She will not even see you. Trust me, the whole school will be there.”

“Is it an outdoor party?” Celeste inquires.

“Yeah. A bonfire on the beach. It is going to be a blast.”

“Nate is right, Hailey. She will not even notice you. We will keep our distance if you get uncomfortable,” Celeste insists.

“You know she hates me,” I say.

“We all hate her,” Nate sputters with a laugh. “Hey, this could be the perfect time to get back at her. We could go, have fun, and then make the night go to hell. I already have a few ideas.”

“I heard she has another boyfriend. We could sabotage her date,” Celeste suggests.

“Or we could turn his balls into icicles,” Ariah adds, and we all burst out laughing.

“Hailey, I’m just as tired and not in the mood to party right now, but they’re right. She throws some epic parties, and even as wiped out as I am, I’m not missing it. You’ve got a mob of friends who will kick her butt if she so much as looks your way.”

I rub my arms, feeling a small spark of courage. “Okay. But if it gets to be too much, I am going back to the dorm.”

Chapter 10

An hour later, I sit at Celeste’s vanity, my hair falling down my back in layers of curls.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, her bright eyes locking with mine in the mirror as she carefully runs a fine-tooth comb through my locks.

“It’s so shiny,” I marvel, hardly recognizing my own hair—it’s never looked this healthy. “How did you do that?”

“Well, I—” Celeste places the brush down, only to knock off a nest of items from her messy vanity. It’s cluttered with a variety of makeup and jewelry, and the chaos doesn’t end there.

Her bedroom is a dazzling disaster.

The walls are adorned with glossy magazine cutouts and posters of her favorite runway models. Clothes drape over every possible surface—chairs, the bed, even the floor—designer labels peeking out from the haphazard piles. Shoes, from glittering heels to trendy sneakers, are strewn about as if a tornado has spun through her closet, whose door is now straining to contain the rainbow of garments within. Accessories hang from hooks and knobs, scarves and belts cascading down like a stylish waterfall.

Celeste picks up the few items from the plush, snowy carpet and tosses them back onto the vanity. “If you stick around at the party, I’ll share my hair secret. It’s a family recipe.”

“I’m definitely interested. My hair has never looked this good before. Thank you. I love it.”

She cracks a toothy grin. “You’re so welcome.”

I pick up the tube of lipstick and glide it on. It’s a shade just lighter than my natural lips with a glossy sheen. A quick swipe of black mascara on my lashes, and I’m done.

Standing up, I give myself one last look in the mirror to ensure everything is perfect.

I’m dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans, a lacy black top, and black ballet-style flats—courtesy of Celeste. I’ve never worn nice clothes like this before, and I have to admit, I actually feel pretty for once. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. I’m doing this because we’re friends. Kapish?”

I smile at her as she twirls in front of the mirror, then smooths the lines of her figure-hugging, powder-blue dress. It leaves little to the imagination, but she’s one of those girls who can wear a potato sack and still look amazing.

Celeste’s dorm room door flings open, and Ariah glides inside, followed by Nate. They’re both wearing the same shade of salmon pink T-shirts with a large yellow umbrella print.

“What are you two wearing?” Celeste sputters with a laugh. “Taking a beach party a little too far, don’t you think?”

“Wow, Hails, you clean up well,” Nate remarks, making me blush. “I might actually go straight.”

“I might go gay,” Ariah chimes in. “You too, Celeste. You look amazing.”

Celeste winks. “Aw, you guys. So much flattery. I love it.”

Nate rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a dismissive smirk. “And you even insulted our shirts. How rude.”

“Actually, we are wearing this because Valerie asked us to be drink servers at her party,” Ariah explains.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Celeste crosses her arms to her chest. “Why did you agree?”

Nate sticks a hand into his jeans pocket and withdraws a small box of powdered laxatives. “I have an idea.”

“You’re terrible!” I exclaim with amusement. “What about all the innocent people?”

“I’m not planning to kill them. Simply make them think Valerie served them drinks and food that may have expired. No big deal.”

“I managed to get into the greenhouse before we came here,” Ariah adds with a wink. “My little surprise is hidden behind a cluster of rocks and plants. Where no one can see it. I’ll get it after we’ve eaten something. Because trust me, you don’t want to eat once I’ve gone through my plan.”

“Oooh. Tell me!” Celeste claps. “This is going to be one heck of a night. You guys are brilliant!”

“You’ll see.” Ariah’s eyes flick to me. “Don’t worry, Hails. Tonight, she’s getting a taste of her own medicine.”

A smile creeps onto my lips. “Sounds interesting.”

“Come. We need to get to the party!” Nate leaps toward me, grabs my arm, and steers me toward the exit.

Celeste snaps a warning about him messing up my hair, but her voice is lost the moment we step out of the sanctuary of her room. The hallway buzzes with the chatter and laughter of teenagers.

The noise is constant, and the air feels warmer with the crowd. I immediately notice some girls have gone all out, sporting skirts even shorter than Celeste’s—which I didn’t think was possible. They sparkle under the fluorescent lights like disco balls with all the glitter and makeup layered on thick.

“What kind of party is this again?” I lean closer to Nate, who has a sudden spring in his steps.

“Honey, all the skin and flash in the world aren’t going to make them stand out as much as you.”

I stop walking, my mouth dropping open as I peer down at my clothes. “What? Is this too much? Something wrong with—”

“Nate!” Celeste digs her elbow into his side. “The girl is already not in the mood for the party!”

“Cow, please,” Nate rolls his eyes. “I meant what I said. Hailey is literally one of those girls who can wear a trash bin liner and look hot in it. Actually, the black outfit makes her look, I don’t know…” He pauses, pressing a hand to his chin and narrowing his gaze at me. “Mysterious. Somewhat seductive, with a dab of cute innocence.” He straightens, grinning past me. “And she’s already caught attention!” He lifts a hand and waves. “Eli, hi!”

Ariah and Celeste, standing on either side of Nate, bite down on their smiles as they stare beyond me.

I turn, a smile instinctively forming as I spot Elijah approaching. Like me, he opted for a more understated look—though nothing about him is understated—in dark jeans and a black shirt.

He notices right away. “Great minds think alike,” he says with a slight twitch of his lips. Behind me, Nate mutters something that sounds a lot like, “Look, they match!”

I roll my eyes, and Elijah laughs.

“You’re going to Valerie’s party?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, I guess.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “These guys aren’t exactly good at taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Damn right,” Nate quips.

“Right.” Elijah nods slowly, turning his focus to my friends. “Uh, mind if I talk to Hailey alone for a moment?”

I peer at the obvious three, who can’t seem to hide their smirks. Celeste can’t stop elbowing Ariah, and Nate winks. “Sure. We’ll meet you there.”

“I guess so.” I squint at them as they walk away, whispering, then bursting out in a fit of giggles.

When they’re out of earshot, Elijah tilts his head to the side. “Did I miss something?”

“Uh, no,” I shrug sheepishly. “They’re just excited for the party. You wanted to talk?”

Elijah pushes back the hair over my shoulder to expose the mark on my neck. “I figured out what one of these means.”

My eyes widen, and I try to ignore the tingling sensation where his hand rests on my neck. “What? Which one? What does it mean?”

His thumb grazes over the mark. I take in a breath, working hard not to shiver under his touch.

“It means eternal servitude.”

“Oookay. Servitude to what, exactly?”

“I don’t know. But it could be referring to your servitude to the moon goddess. If I had to guess.”

“Technically, we are already under her servitude, so—?” That’s according to what I’ve learned in class. “So why does no one else have that mark? Why me?”

“I wish I could answer that.” He pulls his hand away, leaving a warm sensation that slowly crawls up my neck. “We should be able to understand what it’s referring to exactly once we figure out what the other symbols mean,” he continues. “I’m starting to worry we might not find all of them in the Book of the Divine.”

“How come?”

“I’m almost at the end of the book, and I’ve only found one.”

“Oh.” I frown. “But what—”

“Elijah!” Valerie’s voice cuts through the air like an ice shard. My face scrunches up, and Elijah’s expression mimics mine as he stares over me.

His lips draw thin. “Valerie.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually coming to my party,” she rattles on, squeezing past me and latching onto his arm. “Have you finally come to your senses?”

Elijah shrugs out of Valerie’s hold and steps in beside me. “I wasn’t going to your party,” he replies coldly. “I came over to ask Hailey if she wanted to hang out.”

The color drains from Valerie’s face, but her fake, stiff smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, really, huh?”

When her eyes flick my way, I gulp nervously, wondering what she’s plotting for revenge. I can almost see my demise unfolding in her glare.

It takes her a long moment to work her mouth, her eyes not moving from me. “But you know I throw the best parties here. Everyone’s going.”

“Not everyone,” Elijah says, his tone stiff. “I’m definitely not going.”

“Well, judging from all the poor effort Hailey put into her outfit, she was planning to go.” Valerie’s arctic eyes work their way down my body, then back up. “Looking at her, even if she had money, she wouldn’t be able to put a decent outfit together. Poor thing.”

“Well, at least she doesn’t look like a prostitute. You’d think with all the money you have, you’d be able to afford an entire dress.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to prevent myself from laughing.

The scorned expression Valerie exhibits is picture-worthy.

She crosses her arms and shifts her hips to one side in a catty stance. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

“No.” Elijah loops his arm through mine, and a rush of butterflies erupts in my belly at the sudden contact. Somewhere in the back of my mind, common sense urges me to panic. Especially as I catch the disdainful look Valerie shoots at our linked arms, but my brain suddenly short-circuits. “I’m hanging out with Hailey. Have a good evening, Valerie.” He guides me past her, then pauses, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Or don’t. I really don’t care.”

She doesn’t turn, staring ahead with a lost expression on her face, and Elijah takes that cue to lead me away.

Once we’re out of earshot, his tense shoulders relax, and he says, “I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. She has a knack for bringing out the worst in anyone.”

“Tell me about it.” He blows out a breath. “But that’s not what I meant.” He pauses, facing me. “You probably want to hang out with your friends.”

“I kind of promised them I would go.”

“I didn’t think you’d go, considering you and Valerie…” He wrinkles his nose. “That’s why I came over. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to hang out. But it’s okay; I understand.”

“You could always come with us?” I suggest.

“I’d better not. I’ve already ticked her off enough as it is. It will be—” he frowns. “Why are you going again?”

I offer a sheepish smile. “My friends are planning on crashing the party. Just don’t ask me exactly how, but if you change your mind, stay away from the food and drinks.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “I should have known.”

“I’m not part of it. I was planning on hanging back as far as possible, so she won’t notice me. Kind of too late now.”

“My fault. I’m sorry.”

“Nah. Actually, she probably thinks I’m hanging out with you, so she won’t even notice.”

Elijah stares down the hall, his smile only widening. “You know, your friends gave me an idea.”

“Oh?” My brows shoot up. “What?”

His eyes flick back to meet mine. “The question is, can you keep a secret?”

I huff. “If it involves the downfall of Valerie, it dies with me. Well, in general, I won’t tell a soul, so there’s that too.”

He reaches for my arm again and leads me down the hallway, into the shadiest, creepiest part of the castle. The chandeliers hang lifeless here, their crystals dark and cold, and with no windows to let in even a sliver of moonlight, the vicinity is swallowed in oppressive darkness.

“What are we doing?” I whisper, not missing how he keeps peering over his shoulder down the hall as if checking to see if anyone is following us.

He holds a finger to his lips and points to a door before reaching for it and opening it.

“Wasn’t that locked?”

“Yes,” he responds in a low voice. “Another royalty perk. We can bypass magical security.”

“Doesn’t it leave a trace?” I remember that from one of my classes, too.

“Not these, no.” He urges me inside the room. The air is thick with the earthy scent of herbs and the tang of arcane ingredients, mingling with the musk of burned hair. Shelves carved from twisted, gnarled wood line the walls. They overflow with jars of powders, dried plants, an array of liquids, and peculiar artifacts that glint in the flickering candlelight.

In the center of the room stands a massive, weathered oak table, its surface scarred from centuries of alchemical experiments. Intricately etched runes and symbols cover the table, glowing faintly with residual magic. A cauldron, blackened by countless brews, sits atop a wrought iron stand, simmering with a luminous, swirling concoction that seems almost alive.

“The potion storage?” I give him a dubious look.

“Yup.” He inches closer to one of the shelves and browses through the contents. “Hmm. We could make the food grow hair and run around.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “Wait, can we actually do that?”

“You bet,” he says with a grin. “Or we could make everyone puke rainbows.” He pulls a face. “But I’m not so sure about giving everyone measles.”

“Oh?”

“It’s contagious, even through a potion.”

I cringe. “Yeah, no can do. I don’t want to get sick.”

He pushes aside a few more potions, shaking his head. “I think hairy food?” he asks. “What do you think? Unless you’ve got any other ideas?”

I giggle, moving closer to him. “I’m all for that one.”

He snatches a vial from the shelf, accidentally knocking over the one next to it. It crashes to the floor, a pinkish cloud of fumes bursting from it. “Crap.” He steers me away. “Oh, crap.”

My eyes stretch with concern. “What was that?”

He pushes me through the doorway, into the hallway. “Let’s hope and pray whatever that was, it was consumable only.”

“Oh crap. You can breathe them in, too?”

“Yes,” he replies, closing the door behind him.

I check my arms, groaning. “I really hope that wasn’t the measles one.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Elijah winks, sticking the vial he took into his jeans pocket. “Valerie’s party is about to get interesting.”