Chapter 11

By the time we weave our way through the tree-cloaked pathway toward the beach, I know something is wrong. My heart pounds in my ears, and my skin feels too hot and tight for my body. My throat is dry, and I constantly swallow to keep it moisturized. I’m starting to worry that I breathed in that potion, and I check my arms to see if its effects are visible on my skin.

“Something’s wrong with me,” I say to Elijah, who suddenly goes ghostly quiet.

“Yep.” It’s a short reply, his voice so thick it almost sounds like he’s choking.

I stop walking, realizing he was closer to the potion when it crashed to the floor. If it affected me, it must have hit him harder. “Elijah, are you okay?”

He stops short as his gaze locks onto the distant beach. The massive bonfire flickers like a beacon, its flames dancing wildly against the night sky. Even from here, I can hear the faint echoes of shouting, laughter, and music.

The scene buzzes with energy and revelry. It stands in direct opposition to the serene, ethereal stillness surrounding us here.

“Elijah?” I inch closer.

“Hailey, get away from me,” he orders in a stiff tone.

Despite his warning, I keep moving toward him. My common sense waves a red flag somewhere in the blurry corners of my mind, but it’s too late. My body acts on its own accord, and I want nothing more than to be as near as possible to him.

Heck, I want to climb on top of him.

I barely process what I’m feeling or thinking when Elijah twists around and grabs me. He drives me backward until my spine hits the rough bark of a tree, and his mouth crashes against mine.

A sharp breath hitches in my throat, but the surprise vanishes instantly. I surge forward, meeting the kiss with a desperation that borders on pain. I need this. If I do not get enough of him, I will stop breathing.

I know I will.

My hands slam into his shoulders, fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer, eventually hooking my legs around his waist to close every remaining inch of space.

My racing heart pounds loudly in my ears, drowning out everything except the low, primal growl that reverberates from Elijah’s chest, sending shivers down my spine. He pushes me harder against the tree, his kisses growing more fervent and urgent, each one igniting a fire that consumes us both.

“Hails,” he groans, pushing back slightly. “No.”

No? What does he mean by no? I try to draw him closer, but he suddenly pulls back.

I pant breathlessly, watching dazed as he retreats a few steps away from me. His nostrils flare, and he seems to be having a hard time catching his breath. “It’s the potion.”

The fog in my mind lifts just enough to feel like I’ve been splashed with ice water. “W—what?” My voice is thick, still weighted with desire. “The potion. Oh.”

With a shaky hand, Elijah takes the potion he nicked from the storage out of his pocket and places it on the ground in front of me, then backs away some more. “Take that. I need to get away from you.”

He turns and bolts back the way we came, melting into the darkness, followed by his fading footsteps.

My heart pounds in my ears, and the need to run after him becomes overwhelming. A miserable whimper escapes me, and I force myself to pick up the bottle and stick it into my pocket.

I take a few steps toward the beach, then turn back to face the castle. “No.” I scold myself, my stupid body, and that stupid potion. I try again, heading for the beach. This time, I make it without turning back, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

“This is going to be one long evening,” I mutter to myself as Nate spots me and runs toward me.

“Hey, girl!” he cheers, hooking his arm with mine. His smile drops, and a frown takes over. “Why do you look like someone killed a puppy?”

“Yeah,” I mutter under my breath. When he gives me a questioning look, I add, “Had a run-in with Valerie, no big deal.” I pat the pocket of my jeans. “But Elijah got us a little something to help ruin her evening.”

Nate grins. “He did, now? Perfect. So, he’s not coming?”

“I wish,” I say with a wistful sigh.

Nate gives me a side-eyed glance. “And now you look like you’re in heat.”

The sober-minded me would flush at that admission, but I manage to snort instead. “I need a drink. Something strong, preferably.”

Nate stops walking. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

“Drink first, please. Or I might run back like an idiot.”

He must see the desperation in my eyes and doesn’t push it further, leading me toward the cooler stocked with beer. He pulls one out and hands it to me.

“I thought you didn’t drink?”

“I don’t.” I unscrew the cap and take a long swig. “But if I don’t, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Nate crosses his arms. “Okay, girl. Come on. What’s going on?”

“Elijah kissed me,” I sigh and Nate’s eyes widen. “But it’s not what you think.”

“Then what the hell else am I supposed to think?” he gasps. “How was it? No, wait. Judging by the look on your face, it was pretty good.”

“Understatement of the year,” I huff. “But it was due to a stupid potion.”

I explain what happened in the potion storage to Nate. When I’m done, he fist-pumps me on the shoulder. “Potion or no potion, he would have done that sooner rather than later anyway. But if the potion helped the situation a little, awesome!”

I scowl at him, downing the rest of the beer. I’m not even done when I signal for another one.

“Gotta love parties!” he cheers, handing me another one. “You might want to slow down with these. We don’t want you to get sick, now, do we?”

An hour later, with my third beer halfway down, I slump against a large rock, watching my friends dance. They’re having a blast, while my mind keeps drifting to Elijah, and the urge to go to him only grows stronger.

A shady love potion—at least, I assume that’s what it is—and a few beers, then I go to him. What could possibly go wrong?

I giggle to myself, taking another long sip of my beer.

“You okay over there, Hails?” Celeste calls out, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. “You’re sure you don’t want to join us?”

I hold up my bottle and grin. “I’m doing peachy.”

“Uh-oh.” Ariah stops dancing, peering anxiously at Nate and then Celeste. I can’t fathom why. The night is still young, and I’m feeling…

Ugh. I want to go to Elijah so badly that it feels like I’m on the verge of insanity. “I need to go.”

I push up from the sand, and Ariah is at my side in a flash, balancing my weight. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Nate snorts. “Oh, come on, Ariah, let her go and have fun. She needs to get it out of her system.”

“No.” Ariah snatches the bottle from me.

I pout at her, trying to reach for the bottle she keeps moving out of my reach. “Hey, that’s mine. Give it back!”

“She’s drunk!” Ariah exclaims, ignoring me. “And clearly influenced by a potion. I’m not letting her do something she will regret later.”

“What’s to regret?” Nate’s brows shoot up. “It’s Elijah freaking Ledger. He’s literally the hottest guy in school. And I think he likes her anyway, so…”

“I said no.” Ariah closes a hand around my arm and holds on for dear life.

“A bit dramatic?” I sigh, and Nate releases a sigh of his own.

“You tell her, Hails.”

“I’m with Ariah.” Celeste draws closer. “As much as I’d like to see them hook up, I’m not letting her do that under the influence.”

Nate looks defeated. “Sorry, Hails. They’re right. Even though Elijah is totally swoon-worthy.”

“But I want to go,” I whine, half-stumbling to the side.

“Whoa there.” Nate catches my other arm and holds me up. “Hey, where’s that potion Elijah got for us?”

“What potion?” Ariah asks.

Nate rolls his eyes. “Cooey! The one they got for the food?”

“Oh.” Ariah’s eyes widen in realization, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “That one.”

“Yes!” Celeste claps her hands together. “Hailey, where did you put it?”

I peer at my arms, each in a lock hold by Nate and Ariah. “Well, I could get it if they let me go.”

They both release me, and I don’t waste a second. I bolt in the direction of the castle, only to get tackled into the sand a moment later. “Oh no, you don’t!” Nate sputters with a chuckle. “You really think I didn’t see that one coming?”

“Damn you,” I groan, dropping my cheek into the sand. “Fine. I’ll give it to you, jeez. Get off me.”

Nate helps me back on my feet, and I turn to find both Ariah and Celeste cracking up with laughter.

“And I thought I’d had some crushes. What was in that potion? I have a guy I want to feed it to,” Celeste sounds thoughtful.

“The hell if I know,” I mutter, pulling out the potion and handing it to Nate. “There. Make sure you don’t get it on you, or you’ll grow hair in places you don’t want hair and—” I pull a face. “I just know it’ll make the food hairy. Not sure what else it’ll do to you.”

“Got it,” Nate sings blithely, lifting the vial and examining the contents. “Ariah, go grab our goodies and let’s get to work. Celeste, keep our girl out of trouble, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Celeste playfully salutes, reaching for my hand and guiding me toward the bonfire. “Let’s go grab some food before those two sabotage it.”

“I’d rather eat Elijah,” I whine, and Celeste responds with a giggle.

“I know, honey, believe me, I know.”

After grabbing some food, Celeste and I make ourselves comfortable near the roaring bonfire, perching on a rough, weathered log. Each of us holds a hot dog in one hand and a soda in the other, admiring the crackling fire. The mammoth flames send sparks into the cool night air, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the gathered crowd.

I insist on another beer, my eyes scanning the vicinity for a sign of someone with a cooler, but Celeste firmly refuses. She gives me a stern look, her eyebrows knitting together in that familiar way that tells me not to push my luck. With a resigned sigh, I take a sip of my soda. It’s supposed to be cherry-flavored, but the taste is flat and stale, with an unpleasantly sour aftertaste. I grimace, feeling the fizz bubble offensively on my tongue.

Disgusted, I turn my head and chug the rest of the soda onto the sand beside me. The crimson liquid splatters against the grainy surface, spraying my leg and the leg of a girl sitting nearby. She’s in the process of devouring her boyfriend’s face, her hands tangled in his hair as they kiss. The sticky splash makes her pull away abruptly. She glares at me, her eyes narrowing in irritation. With a huff, she grabs her boyfriend’s hand and they stand up, brushing sand off their clothes before storming off, leaving a void in the intimate circle around the bonfire.

I glance at Celeste, who is stifling a laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Well, if I’m not getting anything, no one’s getting anything.” I stick out my tongue at their backs.

Celeste giggles. “You don’t handle alcohol well, do you?”

I grunt in response, biting into my hot dog. Unlike the soda, it’s good, and I devour it within a few minutes.

“You know, even without the potion, he wants you,” Celeste says, not even halfway through her hot dog. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. And then, he also happens to always be around wherever you are. Honestly, I rarely saw him around school before you arrived. Now he’s everywhere I see you.”

I eye her. “Then let me go to him.”

“Forget it, girl.” She takes a bite of her hot dog as I pout at her. With a full mouth, she says, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re staying here. And—”

Screams erupt near the serving table. I turn, catching a glimpse of Valerie and her squad, staring in pure mortification at the disaster unfolding in front of them.

She lifts her hands, pressing them on either side of her face as she cries out, “No. No. No!”

“Well, that escalated quickly,” I chortle.

Celeste leaps up, her half-eaten hot dog falling into the sand, and reaches for my hand. “Come on, let’s go before she sees us,” her words bubble over with giggles as she tugs me to my feet.

We dash across the cool, uneven sand, dodging clusters of people who are running amok and screaming, their faces lit by the fire’s glow and the moonlight overhead. The air is filled with a discord of laughter, shouts, and the distant roar of the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

As we weave through the crowd, something strange catches my eye. Scattered across the sand are peculiar shapes that seem out of place. My first thought is that they are discarded food items from the party, but as I look closer, I realize they are unlike any food I’ve ever seen. These objects are sprouting what looks like hair and dozens of tiny legs, and they skitter across the sand in various directions, moving with a creepy, almost purposeful energy.

One particularly large piece of what appears to be pizza—covered in fuzz and sporting a myriad of legs—scuttles past us, narrowly avoiding a guy who’s stumbling backward in his attempts to escape another moving mass. My mind reels with confusion and a touch of horror as I watch these strange, animated scraps of food race across the beach, seemingly alive.

I tighten my grip on Celeste’s hand, my heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and unease. “Do you see that?” I shout over the noise, pointing at the bizarre creatures.

Celeste glances quickly, her eyes widening in shock before she bursts into another fit of nervous laughter. “What the hell was in that potion?” she exclaims, tugging me along faster. We sprint past the skittering shapes, our feet kicking up sand as we go, determined to put as much distance as possible between us and the surreal scene unfolding behind us.

I bark a laugh. “If only Elijah could see this!”

“Oh, he will. Look.”

I peer in the direction Celeste is pointing and see Nate holding up his cellphone and filming everything.

“Yes!” I cheer at him, only to be smacked upside the head with something. As I turn, I meet Valerie’s blazing eyes.

“It was you!” she seethes, her hands on her hips, one clutching a pink flip-flop.

I pull back Celeste to stand beside me. With the cattiest attitude I can muster, I reply, “Yeah. Because you deserved it!”

“Hailey, oh my dear pearls,” Celeste gasps, keeping her hand on my arm as she steps between Valerie and me, facing the ice queen. “She’s drunk. Please excuse her.”

“She. Drank. My. Liquor?” Valerie stiffens. “The same piece of trash who stole my boyfriend?”

I push Celeste aside, my pettiness only growing. “Yes. What are you going to do about it?”

Valerie makes a low, deep-throated sound. “I’m going to kill you. One of these days, I promise you.”

I lean closer, my face inches from hers. “Breathe, honey. You’re going to pass out.”

Valerie releases a screech of fury, and that’s when Nate slides in between us. “All right, kids, that’s more than enough excitement for one night!” He grabs my arm and drags both Celeste and me after him. “Now, let’s go. The party sucked anyway!”

We can hear Valerie’s screams from all the way over to the castle.

Nate parts with us in the hallway, where Ariah meets up with us and leads me to our room. Celeste follows, muttering something about making sure I don’t go to Elijah’s room when the boy in question rounds the corner and almost walks into us.

His eyes wide, he asks, “What’s going on out there? Is everyone all right?”

“The food is chasing the partygoers,” I snort. “And Valerie’s probably plotting my murder.”

I don’t hear what he says next. I fall into his arms, wrapping mine around him and sighing blissfully. Finally.

“Are you sure?” Celeste’s voice sounds reluctant behind me.

I glance up to see Elijah holding up a small vial of some kind of brown liquid with one hand, the other resting on my back. “Yeah, I found this. It works. I already took my half. Now to get her to drink it.”

Ariah sighs with relief. “Good. Do you need help?”

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her.”

“Hey, are you staying with me tonight?” Celeste suddenly asks.

“No,” I reply against Elijah’s chest.

“I was asking Ariah,” Celeste snips.

“Yeah, actually. Most of my stuff is in Celeste’s room,” Ariah replies.

“Really?” Elijah sounds suspicious. “Why are you staying there?”

“Oh, you know, we are working on something for class. I’ll probably be back in my room with Hails by the end of the week.”

“Oh, please. You’re afraid of the ghost,” I quip.

Elijah stiffens. “What ghost?”

“She’s drunk,” Celeste breathes out a sigh. “She pissed off Valerie too. So, best of luck with that. She’ll come for you both, no doubt.”

Elijah sounds tired when he says, “Okay.”

Again, I don’t catch what they’re saying because, at this point, my lips trail their way up Elijah’s neck. He scoops me into his arms and carries me toward my room. My heart flutters excitedly, and I drop my cheek against his chest. “Are you staying with me?”

He sighs, using his one hand under me to unlock the door. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Chapter 12

The moment we walk inside the room and Elijah closes the door behind us, I seize the opportunity and kiss him. He lets me, sighing against my lips and allowing me to take whatever I want. My hands slide under his shirt, tracing the firm muscles of his chest as our kiss deepens, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. The taste of him, the heat radiating from his skin, it all makes my heart race and my body feel like it’s floating.

But then, without warning, he pulls away, his strong hands gripping my shoulders as he pushes me to arm’s length. “Hailey, no. You need to stop,” he says, breathless, his eyes dark and conflicted. “It’s the potion messing with you.”

I stare at him, my mind struggling to process his words through the haze of desire. The potion? I blink, trying to clear my thoughts, to understand his pained expression. A voice shouts at me in the back of my mind, as if trying to tell me something is wrong with the situation, but it snuffs out a second later as I attempt to launch toward him again.

“But I want you,” I pout, trying to reach for him, but he holds me at bay.

“Yeah. I seem to have the same problem regarding you.” His beautiful butterscotch eyes meet mine, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s defeat in them. “You need to take the antidote.”

“I don’t want to.”

“If I didn’t have an annoying conscience—I wouldn’t have.” He gives me a lopsided smile, trailing his fingers against my cheek. I close my eyes for a moment, sighing. “But I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“What if I tell you I want you to take advantage of me?” My eyes reopen.

He releases a low laugh, drops his hand, and pulls the tiny bottle from his jeans pocket. “Come on, before I change my mind.”

I watch him tug the cork out. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” He lifts the vial and holds it out to me. “Come on, drink it.”

I release a long breath and take the vial from him. Before pressing it to my lips, I say, “Valerie thinks we’re dating. Or at the least, that we have something going on between us.”

I throw the contents back into my mouth, shuddering in disgust as the bitter-tasting liquid makes its way down my throat.

Elijah arches a brow. “Don’t we?”

I remain standing still for a moment, waiting for something to happen. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Good.” He reaches for the empty vial, places the cork back on, and sticks it back into his jeans pocket.

“No, I mean, I don’t feel anything different.” I eye him. “You sure that potion works?”

“Probably takes some time,” he murmurs, averting his gaze.

“What did you mean by your response to when I told you Valerie thinks there is something between us?”

“I don’t follow,” his eyes meet mine.

“You replied with, and I quote, ‘Don’t we?’”

His posture stoops. “I think now is a good time to talk to you about my complications.”

“Oookay.” I blink slowly as he pushes past me toward Ariah’s bed and sits down. I notice him glance at my bed, a slight frown pulling at his features before he turns to me and pats the bed beside him.

Of course. His sister died here, in this very room. What was I thinking?

There’s a chance that potion finally kicked in after all. But the butterflies are still going mad inside my chest. I go to sit down beside him.

“I honestly thought I’d evade this conversation completely, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to be around you,” he admits. “It’s pure hell if I need to be more direct.”

My brows draw taut. “You hate being around me?”

“No,” he replies with a bitter laugh. “The complete opposite, actually. If I could, I would spend every waking moment with you. Then again, even the sleeping ones.”

My cheeks grow hot. Yup. The potion definitely worked, or the alcohol has finally made its way out of my system.

“It’s not as bad for you because you haven’t transformed into your wolf form yet, but when it does, it will hit you harder than a freight train.”

“What would hit me?” I ask.

His gaze meets mine. “The effects of being imprinted.”

Uh-oh. There it is. The thing I suspected but wasn’t too sure of. Reluctantly, I say, “I’m already feeling something.”

“I figured.” He looks away. “I hoped I could fight it. I didn’t want to drag you into my life. My problems and responsibilities. But it’s getting next to impossible to stay away from you.”

“Then don’t.”

“It’s not that simple, Hails. Being a luna is one hell of a responsibility. I put you in immediate danger. Not just from the outside world, but from everyone in ours. From those who want to overthrow my family and me.” He takes a deep breath. “My sister was caught in the middle of it. She died. I can’t lose anyone else the way I lost her.”

My heart clenches, and I reach for his hand, holding it between both of mine. “I’m sorry.”

He glances at me. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Pretending I don’t exist isn’t going to make it go away, either.”

“I know. I just don’t know what to do about this.”

“Then don’t do anything,” I say. “Take it as it comes.”

He rests his head on my shoulder, sighing. “Valerie is going to make our lives hell.”

I snort a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

“But she’s the least of our worries.”

“Then tell me about these threats, so I know how to prepare when they come.”

He lifts his head to look at me. “Like that? It doesn’t bother you?”

“No,” I reply. “I haven’t had a lot of people in my life who cared about me—not until I came here. Not until I became a part of this world. And honestly, I’d do anything to keep what I have now.” I can’t believe that at one point, I didn’t want to be here. Now, I can’t imagine a life outside these walls.

He lifts a hand and cups my cheek, pulling my face closer to his. “I’ll do everything and anything in my power to keep you safe.”

“I know you will,” I breathe before his lips meet mine.

---

I wake abruptly to the sound of the alarm blaring. “What now?” I groan, burying my face in Elijah’s shoulder. We’ve moved from Ariah’s bed to mine and fallen asleep there. Despite a lot of kissing, nothing more happened, though I wanted things to head in that direction. Elijah was the one who decided we should take our time.

Sigh.

Elijah mutters a curse, gently nudging me off him. “It’s something serious.”

“How do you know?” I pop my eyes open.

“If the alarm rings three times consecutively, it’s something important but not life-threatening. Six times, it’s a serious and potential danger, like with the convict on the grounds.”

“How many times did it ring?” I sit up beside him.

“Twelve.” He gets off the bed and straightens his shirt. He pivots around, holding out his hand to me.

“What does twelve mean?” I take his hand and let him pull me onto my feet.

“They rang it twelve times the day my sister was found dead.” The pain in Elijah’s voice cuts through me like a knife.

My stomach sinks. “Oh no.”

“Come on. The drill is to meet in the cafeteria if the alarm goes off.”

Good thing we fell asleep fully clothed and with our shoes still on, so it’s easy for us to get out into the hallway. The only problem is that more than a few students see us leave my room, including a teacher. I don’t know her well, but I’ve seen her around enough to notice the thinning of her lips and the way her eyes zero in on me.

“Don’t worry about it,” Elijah whispers into my ear. “I’ll take care of it.”

I’m not sure how he plans to do that, but being the future alpha, he undoubtedly has his methods, and I’m not going to question it. We file after clusters of other students, passing the room I know Katie shares with another girl. Six guards are stationed at the door, their stances rigid and alert. Three more teachers hover nearby, their faces drawn with concern, and Mrs. Humphrey stands among them, looking more distraught than I’ve ever seen her. Her usually composed demeanor is shattered, her eyes red-rimmed and wide with worry.

Elijah freezes mid-walk, his hand tightening around mine.

“Are you okay?” I stand still beside him, my voice low with concern. “Elijah, what’s wrong?”

His eyes are fixed on something ahead, his expression a mixture of shock and fear. His grip on my hand is almost painful, but I don’t pull away. The tension in his body is obvious, and I can feel his heart pounding through our linked hands.

“Feels like a repeat of the day Sally—” he shakes his head, swallowing. “This isn’t good. Let’s go. I don’t want to see this.”

He tugs me after him.

“That’s Katie’s room,” I choke out.

Elijah stops again. I don’t like the look he gives me—almost apologetic. “I’m sorry, Hails.”

My stomach drops as he pulls me closer to his side and leads the way toward the cafeteria. When we get there, Nate, Celeste, and Ariah are already seated, each keeping a seat open beside them. Three seats are open. One for me, one for Elijah, and one for Katie.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says in a low tone and steers me toward our friends. Ariah and Celeste move seats to sit beside Nate, making space for Elijah and me.

Celeste leans past me, looking at Elijah. “Keep that seat open for Katie, okay?”

I want to cry.

Elijah gives one curt nod in response, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. In my peripheral vision, I see a face framed with silver-blonde hair peering at us. When I turn to investigate, it’s Valerie, scowling at our clasped hands. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and I’m convinced that if it weren’t for the room full of people, she’d have hurled herself at me.

“I hope Katie heard the alarm,” Nate voices his concern. “She was sick the last time we saw her. It could be that she slept through it with the meds that the nurse gave her.”

“Maybe.” Ariah turns in her seat, peeking at the door where the guards are stationed. “I think one of us should notify a guard to go get her. She should have been here by now.”

I suck in a sob, making a noise that sounds like a choke and a gasp. Elijah draws me against him, allowing me to bury my face in his shoulder.

“Hailey?” Nate prods. “What’s going on?”

“If it’s that cow, Valerie, again, I swear—” Celeste starts.

I shake my head, trying not to make a sound. Oh. My. Word. Katie.

It takes a few more minutes before the cafeteria’s doors clatter shut, demanding my attention to the front. I lift my head from Elijah’s shoulder, my heart pounding in my ears.

There’s no Katie in sight, nor can I see her roommate, a tiny girl with short, pixie-cut ginger-colored hair.

Dread grows by the second, an unmistakable weight pressing down on us. Mrs. Humphrey walks slowly tonight, her posture slumped and bearing a crushed look on her face. Her usual confidence is replaced with a heaviness that seems to age her by a hundred years.

“Oh no,” Nate whimpers, and he grabs my other hand, holding it tightly. He reaches out for Celeste’s hand, and Celeste takes hold of Ariah’s. The glassy expressions on their faces make it clear they finally realize what’s happening.

“Good evening, students of the moon,” Mrs. Humphrey begins, her tone quiet and unusually soft. “Tonight, I—”

One of the teachers leans in beside her and whispers in her ear, then steps back. Mrs. Humphrey nods, straightening her spine.

“I mean, early this morning. I am here to pass on the devastating news that we have lost two of our students.”

Celeste is the first to break into sobs, drawing the attention of the majority of the room, including Mrs. Humphrey, who glances at us with a sad look. I swallow back the lump in my throat, struggling to keep my eyes dry as I watch her shed a tear of her own. She quickly wipes it away and presses on, her voice wavering slightly, “Katie Rivers and Lila Radbury.”

Nate, Celeste, and Ariah all break into cries and sobs. I suck in my own sob, burying my face against Elijah’s shoulder. He wraps an arm around me, holding me tightly.

Mrs. Humphrey continues speaking, but I don’t register most of what she says. Her words blur into a distant hum, lost in the waves of low whimpers and wails. We’re instructed to remain in the room and are offered food and drinks, which every one of our group turns down.

We sit there, crying and waiting, the weight of the situation settling heavily over us all.

Again, we are told that a search is underway as a murderer roams the grounds.

I don’t miss it when Nate asks, “Have they even considered that it might be someone in this room?”

Nate’s words linger in my mind for the next few days. They haunt the halls of the castle, follow me into my classes, and even invade my dreams. I don’t see Elijah since that horrible night. There is no explanation for his absence, and my friends are buzzing with questions about his sudden disappearance.

It’s Thursday, and I’m in my room working on homework when a knock sounds at the door. I turn in my bed, glancing at the empty space where Ariah was an hour ago before giving up on homework and deciding to go for a walk. With a long sigh, I force myself up and open the door.

I blink at the empty space in front of me, confused. I lean through the doorway, peering out into the hallway to see if anyone is there. “Hello?”

My voice bounces off the walls of the cavernous hallway, hitting my ears in a monotonous echo. Oookay. I step back into my room and close the door. When I turn, a girl is sitting on my bed, staring at me.

A yelp escapes me, and I retreat on uneasy legs until my back hits the door with a loud thud, my heart pounding in my ears. The room feels suddenly colder, the shadows lengthening in the corners as if drawn to her presence.

I remain still for a moment, blinking profusely to make sure she’s really there.

The girl sighs, crossing her legs with a casualness that seems out of place. “He’s back,” she says, her voice a breezy echo. “But they’re arguing again.”

I place a hand over my heart, taking a deep breath. It’s Elijah’s sister. The dead one. The ghost. Her translucent figure shimmers slightly, her expression a mix of sadness and resignation. The sight of her sends a shiver down my spine, and I have to remind myself to breathe as I struggle to process her sudden appearance.

Yes.

There’s a ghost on my bed, talking to me. It takes me a moment to process this. “W…what?” I finally manage.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. They’re identical to Elijah’s stunning butterscotch ones. “Whatever they tell you, it wasn’t him.”

She begins to fade.

I straighten, stepping toward her. “What do you mean? Him? Elijah? Luca?”

Her stare is blank, and then she vanishes.

“Are you kidding me?” I cry out into the space where she last sat. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”

The knock that comes next nearly gives me a heart attack. I turn, cursing the ghost for being so cryptic, and open the door.

It’s a guard. “Miss Woods? Your presence is requested in the headmistress’s office.”

I blink. “Why?”

The guard stiffens. “I was requested to escort you to the office. If you would please follow me, Miss.”

My eyes drop to my bare feet before I peer up at the guard. “Can I have a second to put on shoes?”

“Of course, Miss,” he nods, stepping back and staring ahead down the hall.

I twist around, grab my flats, slip them on, and quickly check the mirror to ensure my hair looks decent. Then, I head through the doorway to follow the guard.

“What’s this about?” I inquire, my mind immediately flicking to suspicions of Valerie. She’s been unusually quiet since the night on the beach. Chances are, she’s finally done something to get back at me.

The guard ignores me.

I try again. “Why is Mrs. Humphrey looking for me?”

Still, no response.

My shoulders slump, and I sigh, giving up on asking the guard questions. It’s evident he has no intention of answering me. We walk in silence, our footsteps the only sound of any life in the halls of the academy.

“Where’s everyone?” Okay, I’m not entirely done asking questions.

The guard sighs. “Gathered separately for questioning.”

“About?”

More silence.

Ugh.

We make it to Mrs. Humphrey’s office without saying another word. When I walk inside, my heart nearly drops through the floor.

“What’s going on?” I find Elijah sitting in the corner of the room, staring out of a window, a guard stationed on either side of him. His legs and wrists are bound by thin silver chains, and it looks like he’s been beaten.

Across from him, on the other side of the room, sits Luca, also chained up with guards on either side. He, too, looks like he’s had a beating.

“Miss Woods.” Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes, which are steady on a scroll of paper on her table a moment ago, flick to me. “Please, come in.”

A click sounds behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, the door is shut.

“You’re not in trouble, dear. I simply need to ask you a few questions.”

I nod, reluctantly making my way to the empty chair in the center of the room. When I sit down, Elijah and Luca are on either side of me. Luca stares at me like he wants to ask me something. Elijah doesn’t glance my way. I turn my attention to Mrs. Humphrey, waiting for her to speak first.

“Miss Woods, can you recount the happenings of the evening of Miss Stone’s fire party?”

Luca snorts. “It’s called a bonfire party, old hag.”

Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes turn to slits as she glares in his direction. At first, it looks like she’s about to leap over her desk and strangle him. But then she takes a deep, shaky breath, turning her attention back to me. “Well, Miss Woods?”

I glance at Elijah, as anxiety claws inside my chest, knowing he might get in trouble for nicking potions from the potion storage. Prince or not.

“It’s all right, Miss Woods. Mr. Ledger was kind enough to recount his version.”

This earns a snort from Elijah. “Like you believe me.”

His tone is dark and unfamiliar, causing an uneasy tension in the pit of my stomach.

“Well.” I’m surprised at how soft my voice sounds to my own ears. Uncertain and clearly nervous, I say, “I was in Celeste’s room.”

“What were you doing there?”

I relay the events of the evening, leaving out the hot make-out session between Elijah and me. Mrs. Humphrey gazes suspiciously at us when I tell her he was with me in my room that night. Regardless of my promising that nothing more happened than him staying in there.

This earns me a huff from Luca. I shoot him a glare before peering back at Mrs. Humphrey.

“Why did Mr. Ledger return to the castle from the party before he met up later with you?”

My heart begins to beat faster.

“Just tell her. She already knows,” Elijah says.

When I glance at him, he has already turned his attention back to the window.

I release a weary sigh, telling her the whole truth, including the stupid potion and the make-out session. It wasn’t easy with the questionable looks coming from Luca.

“I see.” Mrs. Humphrey sits down behind her desk, seeming satisfied with my explanation. “Tell me, Miss Woods. After returning to the castle to retrieve the antidote, he still had two hours unaccounted for. Where was he?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Elijah’s tone is bitter.

I blink at him, then back at the headmistress. “I don’t know. I was at the party.”

“Like I said.”

“Mr. Ledger, if you please,” Mrs. Humphrey chastises. Her gaze settles on me. “Miss Woods. Have you noticed any odd or suspicious behavior from Mr. Ledger?”

Right now, yes. I shake my head. “No. Nothing. Why?”

“Are you lying for him?” her tone sharpens.

“Of course she is,” Luca scoffs. “And here I am, the convicted killer.”

My mouth drops open. “No, I’m not. And Elijah hasn’t done anything.”

Mrs. Humphrey procures the empty antidote bottle and holds it out to me. “Do you recognize this?”

“Yes. It’s the antidote Elijah got for us.”

“Stole, you mean,” Luca quips.

Mrs. Humphrey slams her fists on the table, screeching, “For the love of all that is holy, could both of you shut up so I can talk to the girl?”

Dead silence.

“Good,” she hisses. “Miss Woods, this bottle was found in the room of the deceased girls.”

My heart sinks further. “It’s impossible. He was with me the whole time, from when we drank it until the alarm sounded.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “You said you had fallen asleep.”

“Well, yes—”

“Then there’s a good chance he snuck out and killed them.”

Her words are like shards of ice stabbing into my chest. No way. Elijah isn’t a killer.

“Quite a coincidence that his sister was left to the same fate. Brutally stabbed in their own beds. The same blade was used. We have yet to find the weapon.”

“I didn’t kill my own sister!” Elijah spits, his face reddening as ebon veins form around his eyes. For a split second, his now coal-black eyes flick in my direction before they turn away. He sinks back in his seat, his posture tense and rigid, his knuckles white as they grip the armrests.

Tears well up in my eyes as I think of Katie’s innocence. How sweet and kind she was in the short time I got to know her. Her laughter still echoes in my mind, a haunting reminder of the life that was unjustly taken. She didn’t deserve it. No one deserves it.

I stare at Elijah, trying to conjure up an image of him doing something like that. My mind refuses to paint the horrifying picture. The Elijah—as far as I know—is caring and protective—someone who will go to any lengths to keep his loved ones safe. The idea of him harming his own sister is a nightmare I can’t entertain, an accusation that feels like the ultimate betrayal.

As I watch him, the pain and anger etched into his features, my heart aches. The room feels stifling, the air heavy with tension and unspoken fears. I want to reach out to him, to offer some comfort, but I’m paralyzed by uncertainty.

Not Elijah.

No.

Chapter 13

Two hours drag by, and we’re still trapped in Mrs. Humphrey’s office. My friends come and go, each recounting their version of that night. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve cried, but Elijah and Luca have remained stone-faced since Elijah’s enraged outburst about his sister’s murder.

The witness statements aren’t painting a good picture of him.

The door clicks open, drawing everyone’s attention as a man glides inside. Dressed in a sharp, tailored suit that emphasizes his broad shoulders and strong build, he exudes authority. His gaze sweeps the room with hardened resolve; his silver hair, slicked back, gleams under the flickering candlelight.

Mrs. Humphrey slides out from behind her desk and kneels on the floor in front of him. “Alpha, what an honor.”

“On your feet, Selene. It’s no night for formalities.” The man’s familiar butterscotch eyes flick toward me, but they are piercing, ridden with coldness, unlike the eyes I’ve grown accustomed to. His jaw sets in a firm line as he asks, “Is this her?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I see.” He closes the door behind him.

Unsure, I stand up, about to bow like Mrs. Humphrey, when he says, “Sit, girl. The future luna does not bow to others beside her alpha.”

Confusion overcomes me, but I sit.

“Lucian,” the man stops in front of Luca. Unexpectedly, Luca stands, and they fall into a hug.

Wait, what? I blink, now even more puzzled, my eyes bouncing between Mrs. Humphrey and Elijah, trying to make sense of what’s going on.

The man—Elijah’s father—heads to him next and hugs his son. “We will clear this up now, don’t you worry.”

Elijah says nothing as he sits back down.

“You are aware that you have the wrong men here,” Mr. Ledger declares, sinking into a seat beside me. One of his fingers taps rhythmically against the armrest, each tap seemingly in sync with the twitch of Mrs. Humphrey’s left eye.

“I do apologize, Alpha, but the evidence points to them. And unless—”

“Proven otherwise, they are guilty,” Mr. Ledger snorts derisively. “We have already proven Lucian’s innocence.”

Oookay.

“Why, Selene, is he still chained up and guarded like some kind of animal?”

The headmistress’s eyes widen as if realization has just set in. She clears her throat, muttering an apology and waving at the guard.

“Also, I want his freedom reinstated and his magic returned at once.”

“Of course, Alpha.”

“As for Elijah. All you have against him is a potion bottle. No evidence of him committing the crime. No DNA. Nothing.” Mr. Ledger faces me. “And this girl did say he was with her. Correct?”

I nod quickly. “Yes.”

“See?” Mr. Ledger’s eyebrow quirks as he returns his attention to Mrs. Humphrey.

A thought occurs to me, and I remember what Elijah’s ghost sister said to me. I sit up. “Wait, I think I might have proof.”

This time, everyone in the room turns to look at me, including Elijah.

“And you tell me this now?” The headmistress sounds annoyed.

“Sorry, I kind of didn’t think—” I swallow, unable to look at either Elijah or Mr. Ledger, knowing how this will hit them. “Sally, she’s been trying to reach out to me.”

Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes widen, and Mr. Ledger suddenly grabs hold of my arm.

“What? She hasn’t passed on?” He glares at Mrs. Humphrey. “Why the hell haven’t you assisted her yet, you useless wench?”

Oh. That escalated quickly.

“I…I have. She didn’t come through,” the headmistress’s voice shakes. “I did a cleansing ritual and offered her peace.”

“Then why the hell is my daughter stuck?” Mr. Ledger spits, his grip tightening around my arm. He peers at me as if realizing what he’s doing and releases me. “You said she reached out to you?”

I nod, nervous. “Yes. She’s been asking for help.”

“Why… why didn’t you tell me this?” The hurt tone in Elijah’s voice makes my heart constrict.

I can’t look at him as I reply, “Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel the anger and disappointment radiating from him.

“What else did she say?” Mr. Ledger asks, his tone urgent. “Did she tell you who was responsible?”

I shake my head. “No. But before the guard came to escort me here, she said it wasn’t him. He didn’t do it.”

“Who?”

“She didn’t say a name, but I think she was referring to Elijah.”

“Rubbish,” Mrs. Humphrey huffs. “The girl is making it up to save—”

Mr. Ledger holds up his hand, and she falls silent.

“Take me to her. I want to talk to her at once.”

“It’s not that simple,” I falter. “She shows up at random.”

“Please.” He gets up from his chair and holds out a hand for me. I take it, allowing Mr. Ledger to pull me to my feet. “Then try your best.” The desperation in his tone is heartbreaking.

I nod, leading the way out of the office, followed by four guards and Luca. Elijah, still chained up, remains with the headmistress.

The look on his face is enough to cut my heart to shreds.

---

My hands shake as I set up the makeshift altar in the center of my dorm room, following the instructions read aloud by a guard from a textbook. Mr. Ledger sits on the edge of Ariah’s bed, his expression tight as he watches me attempt one method after another to summon his daughter.

I’ve already tried several techniques, including a deck of tarot cards, a bowl of water, and a mirror—none of which have worked.

I suck in a deep breath, watching the flickering candles cast long shadows on the walls. As I expel my breath, the dark shapes sway wildly, and I look carefully among them, hoping to see a girl my age standing there. No such luck.

“Spirit of Sally, I summon you. Hear my call and show yourself.” I try to ignore the expectant eyes on me as my finger presses down on the planchette.

There is no movement on the spirit board; the planchette remains stubbornly still. Frustration bubbles from inside me, and I lift my fingers to pick up the mirror again.

I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more, but nothing happens.

A soft knock on the door breaks my concentration. I turn to find Luca standing there, holding a box. He moves across the room and places it gently on the bed beside me. “These might help,” he says in a low voice.

“Thanks.” It feels strange to see him here, walking around freely, especially after the academy led us to believe he is a convicted killer.

I open the box to find Sally’s belongings—a lock of her hair, a worn doll, and a diary. I arrange the items around the candles, hoping their physical connection to her will strengthen the ritual. I close my eyes and recite the incantation once more, my voice growing desperate with every syllable.

“Spirit of Sally, come forth. I call to you.”

Minutes pass, each one stretching into a long, agonizing wait. The air grows thick and heavy. I struggle to draw a full breath, yet there is no sign of Sally. No ghostly apparition appears, and no whisper sounds from the beyond. There is only silence.

I open my eyes and look at Mr. Ledger past the flickering candles. “I tried. I am sorry.”

“Why is she not showing?” Mr. Ledger asks, staring glassy-eyed at the spot where I told him I had last seen Sally.

“I don’t know, sorry.” I pause for a moment. “Like I said earlier, I’ve never done this before. But Mrs. Humphrey told me that they show themselves when they want to. Or, can. Some need to siphon enough energy to show up or—”

“I don’t give a damn what that old hag says!” Mr. Ledger slams his fists down onto his thighs. “She’s already failed my children. She’s failed Lucian here. And she’s failed at doing her job to put my beautiful daughter’s soul to—” He buries his face in his hands, letting out a cry of despair.

My heart twists. If he were any other person, I’d get up and try to console him. But being the alpha—the king of our people—I don’t know if it is appropriate or if I am even allowed to go near him. I glance helplessly at Luca, who shakes his head.

“I apologize. Grieving a child—I would not wish this on my worst enemies.” Mr. Ledger straightens, wiping his face, then glances at the guards. “Have some food brought for the girl.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I can—” I start, but Mr. Ledger holds up his hand, and I take that as my cue to be quiet.

“Nonsense. I myself may not be particularly gifted in spiritual work, but I know it takes a great deal of energy.” He glances at me, and it is odd to see the king’s eyes light up for the first time since I’ve met him. “My wife, she was good at it. She’d always complain about how hungry she was after a summoning ritual. Always told me that—” he falls quiet, shaking his head. “You need to eat.”

I don’t miss the part where he referred to her in the past tense. The question presses on my tongue, but I know better than to ask.

Luca stands in the corner of the room, his eyes blank as he stares at my bed. If he sincerely is innocent, I’m curious what he’s thinking at this moment. Did he see her dead body? I shake the thought from my mind.

“Are you sure it’s the girl from the picture?” Mr. Ledger asks, rubbing his jaw. Earlier, he had shown me a few photos of Sally on his phone to confirm that she is the girl I’ve been seeing.

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

“I don’t understand,” he speaks wearily. “I had other priests come and reach out. Others who are gifted at seeing the departed. Even Selene…” His tone turns bitter at the mention of Mrs. Humphrey’s name. “But no one could reach her.” His eyes meet mine. “What is it about you that attracted her?”

“It could be the same reason why the huntress considers her special.” Luca straightens. “She’s likely to be able to do some things the others can’t.”

Mr. Ledger seems to consider this. Then, “Have more advanced ritual tools prepared for the girl. I think that with some extra help, she can bring Sally forth.”

“Advanced?” I blanch, peering helplessly at Luca. Not that there was anything he could do about it.

In response, Luca nods and starts to turn to the door, but Mr. Ledger stops him.

“Not you. One of the guards can go.”

While Mr. Ledger is busy talking to the guards, I take the opportunity to ask Luca, “How did they prove your innocence?”

“A few things,” Luca replies. He inclines his head toward Mr. Ledger, who’s oblivious to the motion, then shakes his head. “Now is not a good time to talk about it.”

My eyes dart back to Mr. Ledger. “I’m not sure if it will help. I mean, I’m still new to all this. I’ve never summoned a spirit before.”

The king hears that statement and turns to look at me. “Whether you have done this or not, it’s evident my daughter’s spirit has a preference for you. It’s worth a try. In fact, I insist that you do. I will pay you for your services.”

I shake my head. “Oh, no. That won’t be necessary.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Ledger’s eyes flick toward the closet I share with Ariah, focusing on my side. “Seems like you could use the funds.”

“I just started a job at the library,” I explain. “You don’t need to pay me.”

“If you plan on dating my son, I suggest you grow a backbone and stop being too charitable toward those who could serve you. Besides that, it’s an embarrassment to me as the king if my son is walking around with a girl who dresses like street riffraff.”

The sudden coldness emanating from the king is enough to make my mouth slam shut, and I gulped, trying not to show how much his words sting.

The door clicks open, and Elijah steps inside, minus his bindings. “I’m off the hook for now. But I’m still the primary suspect.” When he spots Luca, he tenses. “Why is he here?”

“I need as many of you present who were close to Sally. It should lure her to come out,” Mr. Ledger replies, looking at Elijah. “If they set you free for the time being, it’s a good sign.”

“Is it?” Elijah’s tone is clipped. “They don’t have enough proof to keep me; that’s all.”

“Someone must have set you both up.” Mr. Ledger crosses his arms over his chest. “I knew it wasn’t right when they accused Lucian. Someone’s targeting our family.”

“Someone tried to lure Hailey out the other night.” Elijah’s eyes meet mine. “Right?”

I incline my head. “Yes, but I think it’s coincidental.”

“What do you mean?”

“Valerie.”

Elijah frowns. “The same night a convict was on the loose?”

Luca clears his throat. “That was me. I was the supposed convict on the loose.”

Elijah’s shoulders drop. “Oh.”

“And remembering how Valerie is, it wouldn’t surprise me. She probably planned to get you alone and ambush you,” Luca adds.

Elijah’s eyes bounce between us. “Could be her. But with everything going on?”

The door clicks open again, and a guard walks inside, carrying a tray with all kinds of herbs and candles. “Mrs. Humphrey sent these.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “No instructions on how to use them?”

Elijah gives me a knowing look. “I know how. I’ll guide you through the process.”

I accept the items the guard hands me and watch him slip outside.

Mr. Ledger’s eyes fall on me. “Get along then. I don’t have all night.”

It doesn’t surprise me that Sally is a no-show. Mr. Ledger, as expected, doesn’t take the news well and immediately blames me for it. It appears that if the king doesn’t get his way, he turns from cordial to sour—real fast. He criticizes my appearance in front of everyone, again, pointing out flaws that I don’t even know exist. He then tells me, in no uncertain terms, that if I don’t get my act together, I’m not worthy of his son.

Every ounce of sympathy I felt earlier for him evaporates, morphing into contempt.

Honestly, I never imagined I’d end up entangled with a prince. If that’s even what I can call it. Not that I’m sure where I now stand with Elijah, as I haven’t heard from him in days—that is, if he has any control over it.

And he acted odd in Mrs. Humphrey’s office toward me.

A part of me hopes it is because of the headmistress herself, but another part of me has doubts.

It’s not until Mr. Ledger leaves the academy that Elijah finally comes back to my room. His knock is soft, tentative, almost as if he’s afraid of disturbing me. I hurry to the door and open it, revealing his downcast face.

“Hi,” he says in a quiet tone, barely lifting his eyes to meet mine.

“Hey.” I push the door open further, offering a small smile. “Do you want to come in?”

He slips inside, his gaze fixed on the floor. The tension in his shoulders is unmistakable. “I’m sorry.”

I close the door behind him and turn to face him. “About what?”

“My dad.” He shakes his head and sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “He’s full of it. There’s nothing wrong with your hair, your face, or your clothing.”

I snort an awkward laugh, unsure how to admit that his dad’s comments did hurt. Instead, I say something I genuinely mean: “It’s not your fault how your dad acts.”

He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and the intensity in his stunning butterscotch eyes hits me hard. I realize just how much I’ve missed looking into them during the few days he’s been missing in action. “It feels like my fault. You didn’t deserve that.”

I shrug, trying to brush it off. “I think he’s frustrated for yet again being unable to make contact with your sister.”

“Yeah. It’s frustrating.” Elijah rubs his temples as if trying to ease an invisible pain. “If it’s not Lucian, who would do that to her?”

We stand there in silence for a moment, the weight of his father’s words lingering in the air like a dark cloud. Yet Elijah’s presence brings a sense of comfort I don’t realize I need. Despite everything, having him here makes me feel a little less alone in all this—even though he’s going through much worse than I am, so I can’t complain.

I take a deep breath, deciding to change the subject. “Do you want to sit down? We can talk or—be here together.”

He nods, a small, grateful smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

We move to the small couch in my room, sitting close but not quite touching. The space is currently dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. It’s a quiet moment, but it’s ours. And for now, that’s enough.

“She keeps showing up. If she does again, I can try—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you think you could?” He seems hesitant, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking we could try the ritual again during the full moon.”

“Anything I can do to help, I will.”

He scoots closer to me and reaches for my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “They found proof of Lucian’s whereabouts the day of my sister’s murder. There’s no way it was him. But now they think it was me, with the vial they found in Katie’s room.”

“How did it get there? I don’t get it.”

“I promise, Hails, I wasn’t in that room that night. I never left your room. And that time I was away when you went to the beach, I was looking for a potion to cancel out the one we breathed in the fumes of.” He releases a bitter laugh. “I’m starting to think it would have been better if we let the potion do its magic. As opposed to dealing with this mess.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “They still don’t have enough proof to claim it was you. I know for a fact it wasn’t you.”

“They’re not going to drop it there, you know?”

“Figured,” I admit. “But they can’t do much now.”

Elijah sighs, drawing me into his arms and holding me against his chest. I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing counterpoint to everything that is going on at the moment. “And so you know, you’ve got a great sense of style. I love your hair.” He reaches beneath my chin and nudges it up so I can look at him. “And you have, without a doubt, the most beautiful face I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Is that the effect of the imprint talking?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. “Or are you feeling guilty for what your dad said?”

“Well, I definitely feel guilty for what my dad said. Not sure of the imprint’s side effects, but one thing I do know is I mean it.” His lips tug up at the corners. “That, and maybe I’m just looking for a way in to steal another kiss or two.”

He swoops forward and captures my lips with his. It’s gentle and brief, but it definitely has a lasting effect on my body when he pulls away. His kiss leaves a lingering warmth that spreads through me, momentarily pushing aside all the worries and fears.

“As much as I’d like to stay here, I have to be back at Humphrey’s office,” he grouses, his expression turning serious again.

“I thought you were off the hook for now?”

“I am. But Humphrey still has some questions and seems to suspect me too. She wants to make sure she’s got all the facts before I’m allowed to roam the halls of the school.”

“If you’re not allowed to, why did she let you come here?”

“She didn’t,” he snorts. “I convinced her I needed the bathroom. There’s a guard by the door waiting for me. No doubt he’s going to tell her where I was, and I’ll get my head bitten off because of it.”

I huff, incredulous. “You shouldn’t have come here without her permission. She’s going to give you crap.”

“I know,” he smiles, cupping my cheek with his hand. “But I had to see you before I got pulled back from everyone for who knows how long.”

I pause, my heart sinking. “Pulled back?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’re going to make me distance myself from the other students for the time being.”

“That’s not fair. They don’t have enough proof!”

“According to them, they may not have enough to lock me up, but they can still control my movements.”

As he says that, my bedroom door flings open and a guard marches inside, looking all kinds of annoyed. “Your presence is requested at the headmistress’s office, Mr. Ledger.”

Elijah releases me, offering a faint smile before he gets up and files out of the room after the guard. The door closes with a soft click, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering warmth of his embrace.

Chapter 14

The cafeteria is alive with the vibrant hues of morning, beams of sunlight creating a shimmering effect over specs of dust floating in the air. The chatter of students fills the space, making it feel like I’ve stepped into a whole other universe. Despite this lively atmosphere, I can’t shake a certain sense of sadness.

For the most part, I’m frustrated knowing Elijah is being treated like some kind of criminal.

It’s been two days since we were alone, and at the rate things are going, I won’t get to spend time with him anytime soon either. There’s always a guard trailing him, scrutinizing his every movement and intervening whenever he tries to communicate with anyone. Though they allow me to talk to him in passing, exchanging a few words here and there, everything we say is observed by a guard who even takes notes of our conversations.

I have a sneaking suspicion they’re keeping a close eye on me, too. Whenever I pass a guard, their eyes follow me, and I’ve noticed them lingering nearby whenever I talk to my friends. They may do it because of my association with Elijah, but I sense there’s more to it, though I can’t pinpoint what.

I grab a tray, help myself to strawberries and cream croissants, and head to the table where Nate, Celeste, and Ariah are arguing. As I plant my tray on the table and sink into my seat, they fall quiet and stare at me. “What now?”

Celeste rubs her lips with her thumb, casting Nate and Ariah a hesitant look before returning her attention to me. “People are talking.”

“What’s new?” I sigh, grabbing a croissant and picking it apart with my fingers. “Is it about Elijah? What are they saying now?”

“No, it’s about you,” Nate pipes up. “Someone talked, and it came to light that Elijah spent the night with you in your room.”

“Our room,” Ariah corrects, crossing her arms and placing them on the table in front of her.

My eyes widen. “I swear, nothing happened.”

“We believe you,” Nate attests, then gives me a sideways look. “You’d tell us. Riiight?”

“Yes,” I lie, flushing. I wouldn’t, but I’m being truthful when I claim that nothing happened.

“Well, regardless of whether it’s true or not, Valerie has a merry band of followers out to get you. You should know.”

“Let me guess. It’s about Elijah putting her in her place and then hanging out with me instead of her?” My brows shoot up. “Or is it about the party incident?”

“The sleepover incident,” Nate clarifies. “She started a rumor that you’re pregnant.”

I bark out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? It’s been a week.”

Nate quirks a brow. “Why are you making it sound like something happened?”

I roll my eyes. “No, nothing happened. But on another note, you can’t possibly know you’re pregnant after a week.”

“How do you know that?” he presses.

“Uh, sex ed.”

“Oh, true. We never covered that subject, though.”

Celeste stares at him. “Do you pay attention in sex ed?”

“Well, of course. It’s probably the only subject in school that interests me,” Nate huffs, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “At least I pay attention in one of my classes, unlike you.”

One of the students at a nearby table places a mini-radio out and turns it on, catching a classical piece halfway through. Everyone at our table cringes.

“Tom always plays that crap,” Nate mutters. “I tried teaching him better music taste, but he’s not biting.”

“He hasn’t done that in a while.” Ariah twists in her seat to peer over at Tom. The music stops suddenly, interrupted by a broadcast.

“Thank goodness,” Nate breathes, rubbing his temples. “That was pure torture.”

Celeste laughs. “It was for like five seconds.”

“Still,” Nate shudders.

“But did you die?” she deadpans, and he scowls at her.

They fall silent, each nibbling on their croissants as they listen intently to the broadcaster. “Three more local teens have gone missing. All three are between sixteen and eighteen years old, with no history of running away. This brings the total number of missing teenagers to seventeen in the past week.”

Everyone at the table exchanges looks. The broadcaster continues, “The police are positive that they are all linked and claim to have undeniable evidence that points to werewolves.”

Celeste and Nate both snort.

“Figures,” Nate rolls his eyes. “Let’s blame everything that goes wrong on the werewolves.”

“Let’s forget the vampires,” Celeste mutters. “They can’t do anything wrong in the eyes of humans.”

Nate sips his soda. “That’s because they bought their way in and used manipulative tactics.”

“Mind control,” Celeste sings, waving a hand. “We could do that too if we wanted. But no, we have to have a conscience and do the right thing.”

“Shhh!” Ariah scowls at them, pointing at her ear, indicating she is trying to hear.

“Moving on to sports,” the broadcaster announces.

“Great, now I missed what they were saying,” Ariah complains.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Celeste quips. “They probably went on about how trashy we are and how our kind cannot be trusted.”

I lean forward to sip my drink when my eyes flick at the entrance. The straw slips from my fingers as I gape at the tall boy with dark hair grabbing a tray. For a second, his eyes meet mine, and he passes me a quick smile before loading his tray with food.

“Oh, double trouble on the bubble,” Nate breathes. “He’s back.”

“What the hell is Lucian Crowe doing here?” Ariah gasps.

I realize I forgot to mention that Luca has been proven innocent, but seeing him roam the halls of the academy is still surprising. I clear my throat, facing my friends with a sheepish smile. “I kind of forgot to tell you, with everything going on and classes and all that.”

Ariah’s blinks. “What do you mean?”

I already told them about everything with Elijah, his dad, and Mrs. Humphrey, but somehow, I forgot to mention Luca. I explained what happened where he was concerned and what I was told.

They gape at me.

“And you forgot that important, earth-shattering detail?” Nate looks incredulous. “Where has your mind been?”

“I heard if you’re pregnant, you get a foggy brain,” Celeste suggests.

“I’m. Not. Pregnant.” I bite out.

Celeste giggles. “I was kidding. I know you have a lot on your plate.”

I return my gaze to Luca, who is sitting at an empty table now. Unaffected by all the staring and whispering, he digs into his meal.

“He’s coming to the academy again?” Nate asks.

“Looks like it,” I reply, my eyes fixed on Luca.

The bell rings, signaling the end of breakfast. I shove the last bite of my cream croissant into my mouth and gather my things.

“Great. I have a class with Drullsmith,” Nate whines. He grabs the three croissants from his plate and stuffs them into a paper bag he keeps in his backpack. Celeste shoots him a look, and he sticks his tongue out at her. “Are you, the queen of chocolates, going to judge me now?”

Celeste smirks. “No. I just can’t imagine where all the food goes. Are you taking a skinny potion or something?”

Nate beams. “Glad you think I’m sexy.”

“Of course. Leave it to Nate to take everything to his big head.” Celeste picks up her tray and heads to the server bar, returning it to the lunch lady.

“She simply can’t handle all the hotness,” Nate muses.

I giggle. “Whose Drullsmith?”

“Mr. Barnes.”

“Oh. I have a class with him, too,” I reply.

“I’m with Lenny,” Ariah sighs, tossing her backpack over her shoulder. “See you guys later, okay? Good luck with Drullsmith.”

I watch her hurry across the room, passing Luca on the way. I don’t miss the moment Ariah glances up at him, and he winks at her. I can’t see her expression from here, but she makes a beeline for the exit.

Nate and I slip through the chaos of the cafeteria, weaving our way toward the hallway.

As we turn the corner, I catch sight of the familiar group of girls clustered near the lockers. Valerie stands at the center, her silver-blonde hair cascading perfectly over her shoulders like she stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Her laughter rings out, sharp and cold, and a knot tightens in my stomach.

“Ugh. She’s freaking everywhere,” Nate mutters beside me, hooking his arm around mine.

I keep my eyes down, hoping to pass unnoticed, but luck isn’t on my side today.

“Well, if it isn’t Little Miss Invisible,” Valerie sneers, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. The girls surrounding her snickers, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

“Puh-leeze, cow, you don’t compare to the value of the dirt stuck to the bottom of her shoes. Try harder. Maybe, just maybe, you might surpass the dirt.” He deliberately eyes her from head to toe. “Nah. Forget it. Not in this lifetime.”

“Oh hush, sideshow.” Despite Valerie’s disconcert toward Nate, there is a pinch to her lips that gives away that his comment did have an effect on her.

I pause, considering my options. I could try to walk past them, pretend I didn’t hear her, and drag Nate along, but I have a feeling she already has some plan. With a deep breath, I look up, meeting Valerie’s gaze. Her blue eyes sparkle with malice.

“What do you want, Valerie?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Oh, nothing much,” she says, feigning innocence. “Just curious if you’ve figured out that new hairstyle I suggested last week. You know, the one where you actually brush your hair?” She laughs, and the others join in, their laughter a chorus of cruelty.

Despite not recalling a comment like that from her, as she claims, I feel my cheeks flush, and I stand my ground. “Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll pass.”

Valerie’s smile fades, replaced by a scowl. She takes a step closer, her entourage following suit like a pack of wolves. “Listen, freak, stay out of my way, okay? Nobody wants to see your pathetic face, let alone me.”

I swallow hard, not missing the fact that she hasn’t mentioned Elijah. Yet. I wonder if she’s finally come to accept defeat where he’s concerned. “You know, Valerie, for someone who claims not to care about me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about what I do.”

“Oooh, burn!” Nate sings, holding up to high-five me. Awkwardly, I return it.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, and I take the opportunity to slip past them, my heart pounding in my chest. Nate is short on my heels, chuckling under his breath.

As I hurry down the hallway, I hear Valerie’s voice, angry and indignant, but I don’t look back.

“You think mad cow disease is contagious?” Nate inquires, looking thoughtful.

I sputter a laugh. “Depends on what kind of cow you are referring to.”

We reach the classroom, and as we step inside, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The familiar sight of desks and the smell of chalk calm my racing heart. I made it—no pig’s blood this time, thank goodness.

We scarce make it to our seats—mine unfortunately on the other side of the class from Nate’s—when Mr. Barnes walks in. His mouth is set in a hard, thin line, the corners turned down in a perpetual scowl that suggests he hasn’t smiled in years. There’s a rigidity to his posture as if the weight of his disapproval has settled permanently on his shoulders. His bald head gleams under the light, a stark contrast to the thick, bushy eyebrows that shadow his eyes. Those eyes—sharp, gray, and unwavering—seem to stare right through everyone he focuses his attention on.

“Good morning, class. Today, we’re talking about ancient tomes and the lore surrounding them,” Mr. Barnes announces, followed by low, dismissive groans from students. “Now, now, why the long faces? Learning about our ancestry is by far the most exciting thing. We get to learn about where our bloodline originated and all the other events evolving it.” Despite his words, his tone was enough to kill any plants in the vicinity.

More groans follow.

I sigh, flipping open my notebook and picking up my pen. Exams are drawing close, so I’m taking every opportunity to jot down notes on everything so I won’t miss a thing. It’s a strenuous task and so unlike me, but I have to give it my all if I don’t want to fail. Things aren’t looking too good already as it is.

“We’re starting with the tome of life,” Mr. Barnes declares, dragging the overhead projector trolley closer to the whiteboard and positioning it to point forward. When he clicks it on, an image splashes across the whiteboard of a large, powdery-blue tattered tome with a white symbol engraved on the cover.

Everyone falls silent and turns their heads toward the back. Curious, I peer over my shoulder to find Luca sitting there, his hand stuck in the air. When he notices me looking, he offers a wide grin. I snort, turning back to see Mr. Barnes nodding at him.

“Yes, Lucian?”

“Sir, how is this relevant to our origins if it’s just lore and there’s no proof that they actually exist?”

Mr. Barnes frowns, waving at the image. “Looks perfectly real to me.”

“Sir, last year when you taught us lore, you said they weren’t real. What’s with the change of mind?”

A chorus of murmurs breaks out, a few agreeing with Luca’s statement. I wasn’t here, but if it’s true… hmmm. I peer curiously at Mr. Barnes, waiting for his answer.

He laughs nervously, loosening the tie around his throat. “Well, looks like they do exist after all. You know, it’s not real until you see the proof.”

“But you taught us that it’s lore,” Luca presses. “Don’t you think you should know your facts before proceeding with a lesson?”

“Mr. Crowe, even teachers make mistakes sometimes. Hence, the reason I am presenting this lesson today is to show you the latest findings.”

“So, they’ve been found?” Luca quirks a brow.

“Yes, most of them,” Mr. Barnes says, sounding uncomfortable.

“Most of them?” Luca presses. “Which ones?”

“It makes me remarkably happy to see a student invested in their studies. Especially history,” Mr. Barnes chuckles, sweat beading against his forehead. “But we will get there during the lesson, Mr. Crowe. If you will?”

Luca shrugs, leaning back in his seat.

Just then, the classroom door flings open, and Elijah stalks in with an irritated look on his face.

“You’re late, Mr. Ledger,” Barnes remarks, his eyes trailing after him.

Elijah spins around, his lips thinning. “If you have a problem, then take it up with Humphrey.”

A chorus of gasps follows, and I frown.

Mr. Barnes scowls. “Mr. Ledger, you’ve earned yourself detention. You are aware that, as the future alpha, talking down to your superiors will get you into a lot of trouble.”

“Perfect. Anything else?” Elijah snaps, slamming his backpack down on top of his desk.

“Two sessions of detention, Mr. Ledger. Do you want to push for three?”

The look Elijah gives him is disconcerting. He sinks into his seat and withdraws his stationery and notebook. For a quick moment, his eyes jerk toward me, and the tense look melts away, softening into a sad expression.

“What’s wrong?” I mouth.

He shakes his head and points toward the doorway. I peer over to find a guard standing there with a stiff posture and his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are on me.

I sigh, twisting around in my seat to face the front as Mr. Barnes rattles on about the Tome of Life. I lose interest pretty soon, focusing my attention on a doodle of a misshapen cat in the corner of the page where I’ve been taking notes. Or, well, three words: Tome of Life. I don’t bother any further.

So much for the effort.

I’m lost in thought until I glance up, checking to see if Mr. Barnes has given any instructions. My eyes catch on a symbol projected from one of the tomes onto the whiteboard.

My spine snaps straight, and my mouth drops open, my ears straining with effort to catch up with what Mr. Barnes is saying. “…of the darkest kind. This tome is a high commodity in necromancy due to its untapped power. One of the reasons it has been banned from being accessed.”

Silence falls, and Mr. Barnes’s gaze falls on the back of the class. He releases a long sigh. “Yes, Mr. Crowe?”

“So, for what other reason has the Tome of Death been banned?” Luca quips.

The Tome of Death. My heart begins to beat faster, my hand touching my neck where my tattoo is. Right around the area I know the exact same symbol is in a cluster of symbols. I twist around in my seat to peer over at Elijah, but he’s out. His head rests on his arms on top of his desk, sleeping.

I know he’s being followed everywhere, but I’m starting to wonder what else he isn’t telling me.

I take a pen from my pencil case and throw it at his head. A loud, throat-clearing noise sounds from the guard, and I find him glaring at me. I force a sweet smile, gazing over my shoulder to see Elijah still snoozing.

Damn it. I need to talk to him. I just found out what the one symbol was, and from what I’ve caught so far, a heavy sense of foreboding is expanding in the pit of my stomach.

It’s the symbol on the cover of the Tome of Death.

“As I mentioned, Mr. Crowe, the tome only serves dark and ill purposes. From necromancy, binding, curses, and anything else you can put your mind to.”

“Death, too, considering the name,” Luca snorts.

“Indeed, Mr. Crowe.” Mr. Barnes ambles his attention back to the projector. “Now, let’s move on to the Tome of Enchantments.”

Chapter 15

I endure three excruciatingly long classes before the lunch break finally arrives. My brain feels fried from the constant barrage of information, and I can’t wait to get out of the classroom. As the bell rings at the end of Numerology, Ariah calls me over, but I wave her off, mouthing a quick apology.

I need to find Elijah.

I weave through the crowded hallways, my eyes scanning for any sign of him. After a few minutes, I spot him standing by the announcement board, a deep frown etched across his face. The atmosphere around him feels tense, almost electric, as students give him and his ever-present guard a wide berth.

My focus shifts to the board, where clear pictures of Katie and Lila urge students to provide any information that might lead to an arrest. My heart twists at the sight of Katie’s wide smile, and I force myself to look away.

“Hey,” I say, approaching Elijah and the guard shadowing him. The guard’s expression hardens as he crosses his arms and glares at me, but I ignore him.

Elijah shoots the guard a dirty look before turning to me. “Hi.”

He isn’t smiling, which bothers me. “Is there something…” My voice trails off as I blink uncomfortably at the guard.

Elijah’s jaw ticks. “I’d tell you, but I have a dimwit following me everywhere.”

My mouth falls open, expecting the guard to retaliate, but he just stands there, eyeing us with suspicion. “He doesn’t communicate other than shoving people out of the way when I’m supposed to be somewhere.”

“Right,” I nod slowly, giving the guard one final, hesitant look, then glance at Elijah. “Can I borrow your history book? I need to check on the notes. I think I’ve missed some.”

Elijah hesitates. “But—” He catches the look I’m giving him. “Oh. Right. Still struggling to catch up, huh?”

I bite down on a smile, waiting for him to fish out his history book. I withdraw my notepad from my backpack along with a pencil, then take Elijah’s history book, turning it at an angle where the guard can’t see what I write. I scrunch up my face, pretending to be confused. “Hmm. Looks like I just missed this one.”

I scribble on my notepad: I need to talk to you. It’s about a symbol on my neck.

Elijah shifts behind me and says, “Right. That’s all?”

I peer up at him, nodding. “Yeah. All bases appear covered. Thank you.”

He snatches the book from me and shoves it back into his backpack while I put away my notebook. I barely straighten when Elijah grabs me and pulls me against him, devouring me with a hot, needy kiss.

I definitely don’t protest.

He steers me until my back is against the wall, his hands sliding under the hem of my shirt and moving over the bare skin of my lower back. He breaks the kiss for a few seconds, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “Play along.”

I’m not entirely sure what he means by playing along, but if it involves him kissing me like that, I’m all for it. His lips begin trailing feathery kisses down the hollow of my neck, making their way lower. I instinctively move closer, my hands gripping his shoulders as a sigh slips out. I’m lost in the moment until he suddenly pauses, bringing his lips back to my ear and pulling me out of my reverie. Elijah whispers, “The guard moved away to give us some space.”

I lean back to look at him, who, in exchange, has a wide grin on his face. I snort a laugh, peering past him to see the guard has indeed moved a good distance away. I turn back to Elijah. “Oh, now I get it.”

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, sighing. “Not that I mind doing that again.”

I flush. “No complaints from me, either.”

His brows knit together. “What did you find out?”

It takes me a moment to remember why I came to see him in the first place. My eyes widen. “The Tome of Death in class. The symbol on it—” I point to the symbol on my neck. “It’s the same one I have.”

He staggers back. “Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s this one. But considering it’s a dark tome, I’m not sure what to think. It can’t be a good thing, can it?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I can’t say for sure.” He pauses. “But I can find out and see what I can learn about it. I have more access to these kinds of books than you do.”

My eyes flick toward the guard. “Are you sure?”

“I’m under watch, not restricted from doing schoolwork,” he shrugs. “We covered it in class, so he won’t be any wiser.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, too,” I reply, noticing another guard talking to the one following Elijah. They both turn to peer at us. “I—” I lean forward to kiss Elijah, which he is more than happy to allow. He pulls me closer again, wrapping his arms around me.

A throat clears behind him. “Mr. Ledger. Your presence is requested in the headmistress’s office at once.”

Are you for real right now? I sigh as he pulls away, a frown tugging at his features. He turns his attention to the guard, a scowl taking over. “What does the old hag want now?”

I bite down on a smile, slipping past him to get to lunch. However, the smile doesn’t last. I hope they’ll find more evidence soon so they can clear him for good.

After our final class for the day, I head for the library, my book bag slung over my shoulder like a bat straight out of hell—wings on fire. The hallways are crowded, and I weave through the throngs of students, nearly ramming into a few people in the process.

I curse under my breath, still fuming about the chaos in physical class earlier. One of the students lost control during her first transformation, turning into a wolf and causing absolute mayhem. At first, she tried to pull out her own fur, then turned her frustration on the rest of us, including the teacher. Workout equipment was overturned, flyers scattered, and a cacophony of shouts and growls filled the room. By the time the period ended, we had to clean up the mess she left behind after being escorted out by a flurry of guards.

The whole display makes me apprehensive about my own first transformation into a wolf. What if that happens to me? The thought gnaws at me, fueling my already anxious mind.

Heart pounding, I make a beeline for the library, nearly colliding with Dibella at the entrance. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late. There was an incident in physical—”

Dibella tuts with a smile, her warm eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not to worry, love. I’ll reheat the kettle. Why don’t you get settled by my desk and start working on the stamps?”

As I pass the other library assistants, they shoot me dirty looks. I can feel their judgment like needles in my skin, but I shrug it off. I drop my bag beside Dibella’s desk and sit down, relieved to finally do some actual work. The familiar scent of old books and the quiet hum of the library soothes my frayed nerves. Ignoring the glares thrown my way, I start cleaning the pile of dirty stamps. The repetitive motion is calming, each swipe of the cloth against the rubber a small victory over the chaos of the day. Dibella appears shortly after with a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of rusks.

“These rusks are homemade. Secret family recipe. You’re going to love them!” she declares, setting them down in front of me.

The rich aroma of the coffee mingles with the sweet, nutty scent of the rusks. I take a deep breath, letting the warmth of the mug seep into my hands.

I force a smile. “You really don’t have to go through all this trouble for me. I’m just here to work.”

She waves me off. “Hard work requires good sustenance. You can’t expect to do your job properly on an empty stomach, now can you?”

I’m about to protest, but Dibella has already turned her back to me, typing on her computer. Sighing, I place my coffee down and lift a hand to try a rusk but notice a few assistants watching me. I move my hand toward the stamps instead and pick one up to clean.

I’m halfway through the pile of stamps, lost in the rhythm of cleaning, when a group of students files into the library, heading toward the back. Their chatter pierces the calm atmosphere, but I keep my head down, not wanting to draw more glares. One of the librarians swiftly scolds the group for being noisy, and the library returns to its usual low hum of silence.

As I dip the cloth into the cleaning solution, preparing to tackle another stamp, a few suddenly levitate into the air. I blink, stunned, thinking someone is playing a prank on me with their magic. When I look up, I see several students staring, their faces riddled with curiosity. My frown deepens as I scan the room for the culprit.

A loud, squeaky voice suddenly exclaims in my ear, “I hear you can see us!”

I cry out, jerking to my feet and knocking over the cleaning solution. The bottle tips, spilling its contents across the table and onto a stack of books. “Crap! No. No. No!” I exclaim, frantically trying to rescue the books. The liquid seeps into their pages, darkening and warping the paper.

My heart pounds as I dab fiercely at the growing blotches with the fabric. Dibella rushes over, concern etched across her face. “What happened?”

“I—I’m not sure,” I stammer, still trying to salvage the books. “The stamps—they floated up on their own, and then there was a voice.”

Dibella’s eyes widen, and she takes a step back. “A voice? What did it say?”

“It said it heard I could see them,” I reply, my voice shaky. “Whoever ‘them’ are.”

Dibella’s expression turns serious. “Let me handle this. You clean up here as best as you can.” She turns to the group of students, her voice authoritative. “Alright, everyone, back to minding your own business. The show’s over.”

The students reluctantly disperse, their eyes still flicking toward me with suspicion. I grab a stack of paper towels and start blotting the mess, my hands trembling. The library feels different now, the air thick with an undercurrent of something unseen.

As I work, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. I glance around, but there’s no sign of the mysterious voice or more stamps floating. Just the usual rows of books and the soft rustle of pages being turned.

Dibella returns with a concerned look. “Did you see anything? Or anyone?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. “No, I just heard the voice. And the stamps—they floated.”

She sighs, rubbing her temples. “We’ll figure this out. For now, let’s get these books dried out as much as possible.”

Dibella hurries toward the back, leaving me to my own defenses.

“Someone’s in trouble,” one of the library assistants sings, a boy a year or two my senior. “Not even Dibella and her snacks can save you from that.”

He ambles away with a smirk as I work to salvage the mess. “Why are you ignoring me?” the voice rambles on. “I know you can see us. I saw it in your file in the headmistress’s office. But shhh, don’t tell her I’m spying on her.”

I pause, frowning. “What are—?” I meet the silver gaze of a ghostly girl a little younger than me, realizing too late that I’ve just acknowledged another ghost point blank. So much for Mrs. Humphrey’s advice against it. Now I have two ghosts to deal with—though, Sally, I don’t mind.

The ghost girl places her hands on her hips and huffs. “Are you always this rude? I’m trying to be nice.”

My mouth opens, then shuts. I repeat the motion a few times before managing to answer her. “You could have been more subtle. Look at this mess.”

She sighs. “I was subtle. I’ve been sitting here beside you for over twenty minutes trying to get your attention. But you seemed so focused. What’s so fun about cleaning stamps, anyway?”

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I need the money,” I grit out.

She falls silent for a moment, and I grow hopeful she’s left. Unfortunately, luck is not on my side. “I’m sorry.”

I pause, catching the sincerity in her tone. I breathe out. “It’s okay. But can you be careful next time, please? This is probably going to cost me.”

“Yeah. You’re going to pay for replacements,” she shrugs.

Great. So much for buying myself anything. “Hey,” she moves out from beside me to hover in front of me. “I can help you, you know.”

I peer up at her. “You can? How?”

“Well, not with money,” she admits. “But I can get you free snacks.”

“That’s great, thank you. But I need toiletries, clothes, and stuff.”

“I can get most of that, too.”

My brows furrow. “How?”

She cracks a smile. “My mom, how else? She owns a bakery and runs the storage for secondhand goods for kids around here.”

My eyes widen. “You’re June’s daughter?”

Her features light up. “You know my mom?”

I nod. “Yeah. But how are you going to get stuff from her?”

“She can see me. She has sight, like you and her sister, Selene.”

“Oh, Mrs. Humphrey?”

She pulls a face as if she is smelling something foul. “The one and only.”

“Okay, so, I’m going to take a wild guess that you want something from me?” I say, my voice low as I try to keep the irritation at bay. The ghost girl swoops through me, sending a cold, stuffy chill through my body. I shiver and shoot her a glare. “I don’t like it when you do that.”

She shrugs, her translucent form flickering slightly. “It’s nice for me. The living feels homey and warm.”

Ignoring her statement, I peek around and notice half the library staring. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I turn my face away, lowering my voice to a murmur. “What do you want from me?”

“A favor,” she replies, clasping her hands in her lap and swaying sideways with a sweet smile. “A teeny, tiny favor.”

“And what does this favor entail?” I ask, dropping the cloth I was using to salvage the mess. Accepting defeat, I look down at the ruined books. My first salary is down the drain. I sigh, feeling the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders.

“I need you to keep a door open for me tonight,” she says, her eyes gleaming with an eerie light.

I blink. “You can just go through it.”

“It’s not for me,” she explains, her voice softening. “It’s for a friend. A living friend.”

Suspicion rises inside me. “If it is a living friend, they can open the door themselves.”

“No.” She inches closer, creating a mass of cold air pressing against me. “The magic tracker is a bit of a problem for my friend.”

“I’m not leaving any door open for someone who isn’t supposed to be here. Besides, what door, and why are they trying to avoid the tracking system?”

The girl considers my question. “Well, she got in trouble for sneaking food a few times. Now Mrs. Humphrey is watching her like a guard dog.”

“So, you want me to help her steal food when she’s already under observation for doing exactly that?” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m being watched—” I pause, unsure if I should mention Elijah and the guards. “What I mean is, being new here, I’m being watched for my weird mark. Someone will notice, and if something goes wrong, I won’t take the fall for it.”

The ghost girl pouts. “It’s not for stealing food.”

“For what, then?”

She sighs. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah?”

“My friend, she’s taking care of a stray cat. Hence the extra food. But it’s so she can sneak out and feed it. If Mrs. Humphrey tracks her, she’ll notice and investigate. The headmistress hates cats, so if she finds out, you can imagine the worst-case scenario.”

My brows draw tight. “There’s a cat on the academy grounds? Around werewolves? And not to mention the—”

“Oh, no. She’s keeping the kitty in a safe place.”

“I see.” I rub my arms, considering this. “Where, exactly?”

“Outside. In the right courtyard. There’s a small trap door leading to a mini-basement where they keep yard cleaning stuff that no one uses. You can check if you want. Just make sure the kitty doesn’t get out, for obvious reasons.”

“Well—” I’m about to answer the ghost girl when one of the library assistants walks up to me, carrying a pile of books. He slams them onto the table beside the damaged ones, scowling at me. “Those are from the research section, which, if you didn’t know, is covered this semester. Students will need them.”

“Yeah, look, I’m sorry. I’ll work extra hours to cover for the—”

“No. You don’t fully understand what I’m implying.” He stuffs a white strip of paper into my hands. “This is to cover the expense of the books. You have three days to pay up so we can order new copies.”

“Three—” My mouth drops open when I see the fee. “That’s almost a year’s worth of work and then some. There’s no way I’ll be able to cover the cost of those books in three days!”

“Not my problem. And sure as hell won’t be the school’s or the students’ problem when they need to do research for their studies.” He picks up the pile of books he brought, smirking. “Oh, and good luck getting yourself out of this mess. Not even your mark or Dibella can save you from this one.”

“I can help you,” the ghost girl says beside me, reminding me of her presence.

“Doubt you can,” I mumble, picking up a stamp.

“Excuse me?” The boy turns, his lips turning down in distaste.

“Nothing. I’ll take care of it, thanks.” I have no idea how I am going to take care of it, but considering the way he is glaring at me, I’ll tell him anything he wants to hear if it will get him off my case.

“Of course you will.” He shoots me a final, menacing smirk before he stalks away.

“Yes, I can if you’ll help me and my friend with the kitty. I’ll help you get new copies of the books without paying a cent,” the ghost girl carries on as if nothing happened.

I squint at her. “Oh, and how exactly are you planning to do that?”

“My friend has a lot of money. If you help her, I know she’ll be more than happy to return the favor,” the ghost girl says with a playful grin. “Consider it done.”

“Just for me to leave a door open?” I hesitate. “And how do I know this isn’t a cover-up for something else?”

“Do you want to go check on the kitty?” She waves toward the window. “Go. Oh, and her name is Ginger, by the way. The kitty.”

I peer outside, sighing. “I can’t go now. I need to finish this.”

“She’s really there.”

“Fine. What door do you need me to leave open?” I ask, and the ghost girl’s expression brightens.

“Yes! Thank you!” she exclaims. “The back exit, by the kitchen, please. Thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I hope not.” I don’t bargain for those books, but I can be hopeful. I have no idea where I’ll get that large sum of money otherwise.

Chapter 16

Luca’s POV.

I slump back in a chair tucked into the far corner of the cafeteria, gnawing on a cold, stiff fry, my eyes locked on Elijah, ‘definitely-up-to-something’ Ledger.

There are guards stationed at every exit, with one planted between the boys’ and girls’ bathrooms across the room, but they’re distracted. Two of them keep glancing up at the ceiling, tracking something I can’t see, while the third, by the main exit, seems more interested in scratching an itch. His attention darts everywhere except where it should be—on Mr. Suspicious.

And the man in question? He’s watching the guards with a sly smirk like he’s in on a joke only he understands. I’d wager all the cold fries on my plate that he’s behind their sudden lack of focus.

But why is he so eager to throw them off his trail? Maybe he wants some alone time with his girlfriend, but she’s a few tables away, engrossed in conversation with her friends. He hasn’t glanced her way even once.

My eyes slide back to Elijah. What is our future alpha planning?

I toss the half-eaten fry back onto the plate. It bounces and rolls off onto the table. I leave it there.

“So.”

I release a depleted sigh, rub my face, and reply without checking to see who has decided to grace me with their presence. “Yes, my name is officially cleared. No, I never murdered anyone. Yes, I’m back for good. No, I will not discuss what it was like to be rogue.”

“Oh.” The male voice replies. “Well, that’s not what I planned to ask you.”

“No, they didn’t brand me with a convicted mark. So no, I can’t show it to you because I don’t have one.”

“Glad for you, mate. But I wanted to ask if you have a partner for Potions yet?”

Surprised, I look up to find a large boy with fiery red hair and freckles staring down nervously at me.

“Depends on why you want to know.” I cross my arms.

“Well, everyone already picked a partner. Since the headcount is uneven, I was left on my own,” he says with an awkward smile. “I am stuck with double the work, and I figured you were, too.”

“If the numbers are uneven, it doesn’t take much logic to figure out I am available since I just returned and haven’t partnered with anyone yet. And you, being the one making it uneven…” I straighten in my seat, my gaze briefly flickering to Elijah as he stands to leave. “And here I thought you were smart.”

“I am. But the count keeps changing. Anyway, I lost my partner to someone else, so it became uneven. Then it was even again when the first new girl arrived, but it shifted once more when the second new girl joined. But then she… well, she died. It would have been even… So now it is uneven again. But you are here, so…”

“Well, that is not confusing at all.” My gaze settles back on the boy. “The first new girl. You mean Hailey?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Technically, it is still uneven even if we partner up—if you do the math properly. You forgot, the roommate of the other new girl died too.” I eye him. “So, point being, you would rather have a lab partner whom the school considers a killer than some cute girl?”

His face scrunches up and I can tell I threw him a solid red herring, because he is clearly trying to re-calculate the math.

Yes, I’m aware my calculation isn’t adding up. It is the whole point; to throw him off.

I lean forward, grinning, well aware he’s more confused than he’s ever been in his life. “You were saying?”

He flushes, peering nervously over his shoulder, then back at me. When I lean to the side to see who he is looking at, it’s none other than Valerie Stone. I heard she’d had her eyes laser-focused on Hailey since she arrived. Something to do with Ledger.

My gaze slide over to Alpha boy. What is it with that moron that makes all the girls hot for him?

Oh, yeah, now I remember. Future king.

I roll my eyes. “Did Valerie tell you to ask me?”

The boy shows way too many teeth for it to be a genuine smile. “She thought it would be nice.”

“Hm.” I tap a finger on the edge of the table. “Or to guarantee Hailey doesn’t have a lab partner. Am I getting warm?”

He peers over his shoulder at Valerie before looking at me and nodding quickly. “Please don’t tell her I told you.”

I shoot up to my feet when I spot Ledger slipping right past the guard, who is practically molesting the side of the door to scratch himself.

“Look, uh—” I slap a hand down on the boy’s shoulder, making him flinch. “Sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“Dean,” he replies. “And I didn’t tell you.”

“Right, look, Dean? I’ll take care of Medusa over there for you. But I’m partnering up with Hailey.”

The boy looks relieved with that admission. “Thanks. I honestly prefer to work alone.”

“Yeah, you strike me as someone who prefers to work alone,” I shoot after Elijah. Dean shouts something that sounds like, “Thank you,” but I’m too rushed to respond. By the time I round the corner into the hallway, Elijah is gone.

Which I find even more unusual, as the distance between the cafeteria and the staircase is a decent stretch. He will need more time to vanish into thin air this fast.

“What are you up to?” I mutter under my breath as I move toward the stairs, pausing momentarily to glance to my left. A door stands wide open, revealing a mop stuck in a bucket of mucky water and some other miscellaneous cleaning supplies. To my right, I see Mrs. June talking to a male student I don’t recognize. I peer back at the stairs.

I sigh. June it is. I swerve in her direction, causing the student to take a few steps away from me, his eyes wide.

“I won’t bite,” I comment, smirking at him. “Not hard, at least.”

“Mr. Crowe!” Mrs. June scolds as the guy hurries away.

I lift my shoulders nonchalantly. “Not my fault he thinks the worst of me.”

“Well, you’re not doing yourself any favors by intimidating other students.”

I roll my eyes for what might be the hundredth time today. “Look, I don’t really have time to chat. I wanted to ask if you might have seen the future alpha wander this way?” I point toward the stairs. “Or that way?”

“Why do you need to know?” she side-eyes me.

“I have a project I’m working on in class, and since I recently got back, I need some help. He may be able to help me with a few questions.”

She points to the stairs. “I saw him around there. Not sure if he headed to the cafeteria or the stairs, though.”

“Right. Thanks.” I don’t linger long enough to hear her reply. I’m a few steps up the stairs when a clatter stops me dead in my tracks. I peer back down at the open storage closet.

A broom has toppled to the floor, knocking a polish bottle off a shelf. The bottle rolls out into the hallway, knocking into the bottom step of the stairs.

A click sounds inside the closet.

Hm.

I head back down and slowly inch closer to the closet, listening for any sound of movement. It has gone quiet again. I step into the dark, cramped space to find it empty of any suspicious forms of life. I bend down to pick up the broom and straighten up, noticing dust trickling down from the ceiling. I peer up, spotting an open vent.

“Well, what do we have here?” I grab onto a shelf to test its sturdiness before climbing up.

The vent is a tight fit, but when I finally slide out of the second opening, relief washes over me. Being squished, sliding through a passage coated in grime, and unable to breathe wasn’t at the top of my ‘to-do’ list.

My muscles ache from the contortion, and my clothes are smeared with the evidence of my claustrophobic journey.

I’m barely on my feet when I hear footsteps approaching. I duck behind a pile of boxes, pulling a scrap of material over me to hide. It’s thick with dust, and I have to fight not to cough and give myself away.

The air is musty and stale, and I can feel the grit settling in my throat, making my eyes water. My heart races as I hold my breath, straining to hear any movement over the pounding in my ears.

From what I can see, I’m in some storage room. The walls are lined with shelves cluttered with forgotten objects, and the floor is littered with packing materials and debris. I don’t have much time to mull it over, though, as Ledger steps into the room carrying a small wooden box. He places it on a shelf, sending specks of dust dancing in the beam of light provided by a nearly burnt-out bulb. His presence is imposing, and every nerve in my body is on high alert as I stay hidden, hoping he doesn’t notice me. If he does—oh well, I’ll worry about that when I get there.

I lean to the side, attempting to get a better look, but Elijah turns his back, blocking my view of whatever he puts inside that box. Not a few seconds later, I hear a grunt followed by a hiss of pain.

I arch a brow.

I bet my fine behind that whatever he’s doing is illegal or at least enough to get him into serious trouble. Why else would he go to such lengths to hide it?

Besides, he’s doing a pretty lousy job if I can manage to follow him here. Or, possibly, he only worries about school security.

The small wooden box clicks shut, and Elijah picks it up, returning it to its hiding place. I stretch my neck, but the space he disappears into is pitch black. Damn it.

I remain still as he climbs onto a table, pulls himself back into the vent, and slides the cover back into place. I wait a few seconds, my heart racing with excitement. Then, when I’m sure it’s safe, I bolt to where I saw him hide the wooden box. It takes some time to move around and dig through boxes, but I eventually find it behind a pile of dusty books. I pick it up, my lips curling into a wicked smile. I feel like I’m about to discover something highly incriminating against the future alpha.

As I lift the lid to peer inside, a hefty force slams into my side, knocking me against the wall. The box clatters to the floor beside me, its contents spilling out. There are empty vials with remnants of silver liquid.

I peer up to find Ledger hovering over me, looking like a bull about to charge, breathing furiously.

“Why are you following me?” he snarls.

I arch a brow, smirking. “Is that a serious question?”

His hand shoots out, grabbing me by the collar and dragging me to my feet. Holy crap on rolling wheels, he’s strong. Ledger is way more robust than your average alpha, but I’m not about to give him the benefit of the doubt. A smile plays on my lips. “Shouldn’t we rather ask, what are you up to, hey?”

He hisses. “Why. Are. You. Following. Me?”

I shrug, ignoring the collar cutting into my neck. “Suspicious things have been happening around the school, and you’ve been acting very suspicious.”

“I have nothing to do with those,” he replies flatly. “I have my own crap to deal with.”

I work hard not to glance at the scattered vials. “Yeah? Like what? Daddy issues?”

Elijah shoves me so hard that when my back hits the wall, all the air gets painfully knocked out of my lungs, resulting in an embarrassing coughing fit. Despite my discomfort, a smile curls on my lips. The last thing I’d do is let him see me suffer. “What happened to Sally?”

The look he gives me is murderous. “If I knew, the whole damned school and the useless council would know. Hell, even the human world would spew articles about it in their newspapers.”

“Oh? How come?”

“Because I would tear up whoever is responsible for her death and paint the walls with their blood.”

“Wow. I don’t remember you being this aggressive. Even after her death.” I take a step closer, frowning. “I remember you crying and falling into a deep depression—”

I feel the blow without seeing it come. A searing pain slices through my jaw, and I stagger back. “Yeah. I don’t remember you having so many anger issues, either.”

Elijah turns briefly, shoving his fingers through his disheveled hair as he peers toward the vent. I take the opportunity to bend down, scoop up one of the vials, and pocket it.

When he glances back, there’s a depleted look on his face. “Go. Get away from me and pretend you didn’t see anything.”

“Are you serious?” I give him an incredulous look, kicking one of the vials on the floor. “You think I’m simply going to back away and pretend I didn’t see you take these? What are they, anyway?”

His eyes narrow, and he looks like he’s considering his response before his gaze locks with mine. It seems like he’s trying too hard to make what he says next sound convincing. “It’s to make me untraceable for a few hours,” he explains. “You have no idea how frustrating it is not to be able to do anything without being watched like you’re under a microscope.”

“Yeah, want to bet on that?” I don’t remark on the fact that I know he’s lying. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

He inclines his head, sighing. “Okay, maybe you, of all people, would.”

I cross my arms. “So, this is it? So you’d get some free time to do what?”

He shrugs. “Sneak candy bars from the kitchen. Hang out with friends and talk about my problems without it being reported to Humphrey. Stuff.”

“Hang out with your girlfriend, stuff?” I push, wanting him to think I believe him.

The grin comes so quickly it has to be the only truthful thing in our entire conversation. This guy has it bad for Hailey. I try to ignore the pang of jealousy ensnaring my chest. “Especially,” he answers, that stupid grin not faltering.

I clear my throat. “Fine, then. I won’t say anything.”

He eyes me for a long moment. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what other choice do you have?” I smirk.

“You still don’t believe me.”

“Can you blame me?” I stick my hands into my jeans pockets, a casual gesture to make sure the vial is secure. “They had some incriminating evidence against you.”

“I didn’t kill my sister,” he replies flatly.

“I know.” I drop my hands to my sides. “But it doesn’t mean you’re not responsible for those other deaths.”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“Yeah, well. Only time will tell. I wasn’t there.” I offer a fake smile. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

He huffs. “Tell that to everyone else.”

I take a few steps forward until I stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. I pat his bicep. “That, I can definitely relate to. Did you hear the one where I supposedly skinned a bunch of cats, ate them, and made jackets out of their fur?”

Elijah snorts a bitter-sounding laugh. “And then you make me out to be vicious. Absolutely scandalous. Poor cats.”

“Ah, I’m the worst.” We’re joking, but the unspoken words hanging in the air are obvious; I don’t trust him, and he doesn’t trust me. “Is it just me, or did you grow? I hope it isn’t steroids making you so moody.”

He snorts. “Do you want to have me tested at the nurse’s office?”

“Good. That crap is bad for you. Even with tough alpha genes and all that.” I head for the vent, peering over my shoulder at him. He’s already scooping up the vials from the floor. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t notice one is missing. “And be less noisy and obvious when you sneak off here. You never know who’s following you. The next guy might not be as generous as I am.”

He flips me off. I climb into the vent, laughing out loud, but my mind is screaming that something is off.

It’s time to find out what’s in that vial.

Chapter 17

Hailey’s POV.

“Stupid, freaking, insufferable, third-rate tyrant!” Nate hisses over his shoulder at Valerie, who shoots us a saccharine-sweet smile from her table in the center of the cafeteria. “One day, I swear—”

“Nate, it’s okay. Leave it, please.” I press four fingers to my temple and sigh. “She’ll get back what she dishes out. Eventually.”

“And when will that be?” he snaps as Celeste grabs his arm, guiding him toward the cafeteria exit, with Ariah and me trailing behind. “When she’s old and shriveled up like a prune?”

“That would be karma,” Celeste snickers. “She’s so self-obsessed.”

“I mean, it’s just juice,” I say, despite my pride being a bit bruised. Nate stops dead in his tracks and gives me that signature look of his—the one that screams, ‘Oh yeah?’—it’s when I know he’s not letting this go. “Okay, fine. What do you suggest I do about it?”

“Hmmm, let me think.” Nate yanks his arm free from Celeste’s grip, eyeing the massive cherry-red stain on my white shirt with disgust. “That’s a nice color. In fact, I’m sure it would look even better on Valerie’s face. You know, after she takes a punch to the nose.”

Nate is already halfway to Valerie’s table when Ariah and Celeste grab his arms and steer him back toward the exit. “What?” he asks innocently. “Do you know how expensive it is to have a nose job? She’ll get one for free. Cheap. Quick. Maybe a bit painful. But hey, beauty is pain, so they say.”

I giggle. “We can do other things that don’t involve landing in detention for beating up another student.”

“What our boy here needs is a cold shower. Seriously, Nate. You’re about to pop an artery,” Ariah snips.

“Well, hello? Was I the only one who noticed what she did to Hailey?” Nate sounds incredulous.

“No. The entire school saw,” I mutter as we round the corner into the hallway. I’m about to mention how I’ll probably hear about this for the rest of the week, at least until something else bad happens, when I slam into a tall figure. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking up to find Luca grinning down at me. I sigh. “Never mind.”

“Hailstorm.” Luca sticks something small back into the pocket of his jeans. “What a pleasant surprise.”

I arch a brow, wondering what he had in his hand that he felt the need to hide. “Can’t say it’s pleasant.”

“Aw, you hurt my feelings.”

“Do you even have any?” I scowl at him. “What do you want?”

“Well, I wanted fries.”

“Great, then I’ll get out of your way.” I inch toward my friends, who are watching the awkward exchange with way too much interest—which I’m sure I’ll be hearing about soon. But before I can take another step, a hand closes around my arm.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

I stare at him. “About what?”

He shoots a crooked smile at my friends before returning his attention to me. “Alone.”

“The hell you are taking her anywhere alone.” Celeste steps between us, pulling his hand from my arm. “You can talk here or get lost. We don’t trust you.”

“Yeah,” Nate agrees, stepping closer with his shoulders squared.

“Fine.” Luca blows out a low breath, peering over Celeste at me. “Your boyfriend is up to something. I’d keep a close eye on him if I were you.”

“And you expect us to take advice from someone like you?” Nate clucks his tongue.

I ignore Nate’s comment, replying, “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?”

I don’t respond, but if he’s referring to Elijah’s sudden moods and weird behavior, I have to agree. “Why do I have a feeling you know something?”

“I don’t. But watch your back,” he advises. “Don’t go anywhere alone. Not with him.”

“So, you expect me to trust your word over my boyfriend’s? Who I trust, by the way.” I plant my hands on my hips. “And if, let’s say, by some tiny chance, he’s not trustworthy—”

“Which Elijah drop-dead-gorgeous Ledger totally is,” Nate quips, resulting in Luca snorting and rolling his eyes.

“Let’s say maybe he isn’t,” I continue. “Why would you care what happens to me?”

Luca’s eyes narrow. “I don’t. But if we can avoid another tragedy or me getting unnecessarily framed for it, it would be preferable.”

“You think Elijah is behind the killings?” My lips draw thin.

“No. I don’t think it’s him.”

“Okay, then what is the problem?”

His posture sags. “I don’t know. Call it a hunch or whatever. That, and his suspicious behavior. He’s up to something.”

“Oh, I see.” I drop my arms to my sides and scoff. “You have nothing tangible against him. You just want to cause him more problems than he already has to deal with.”

Luca leans back, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. “Fine. Don’t take my word for it. But remember this moment. When something bad happens, and it turns out he’s involved, know that I tried to warn you.”

I open my mouth to snap back, but Luca spins on his heel, striding into the cafeteria with an air of finality that leaves the words stuck in my throat.

“Damn weirdo,” Celeste mutters under her breath, her eyes darting suspiciously toward Luca’s retreating figure. “I bet he’s the one behind all this, just trying to pin it on Elijah.”

Nate nods, his voice laced with disdain. “Yeah, if there’s a rotten fish in the water, it’s definitely him.”

Ariah, who has been silently observing the exchange, finally speaks up, her tone calm but firm. “Come on, let’s get out of here before he decides to come back.”

I glance over my shoulder, watching Luca settle into a chair at the far end of the cafeteria. A knot tightens in my stomach. As much as I want to blame him for everything, there’s a nagging truth in his words that I can’t shake. Elijah has been acting strange, and it’s starting to get under my skin.

When we reached the girls’ dorm, Ariah and I split up with Nate and Celeste.

“Good night!” Ariah calls after them as we round the top of the stairs.

I rub my arms, peering down the hall as students disperse in all directions toward their rooms. Tilly, the ghost girl, comes to mind—the one whose name I only learned when she finally yelled it at me as I was leaving the library earlier. And with that, I remember my promise to leave the courtyard door open for her friend.

That is if a cat named Ginger exists. I don’t want to risk helping someone who might be up to something devious.

Tilly seems harmless, but I’m going to go look for that cat first. By the time I turn back, Ariah is already inside our shared dorm room. I stick my head through the doorway. “Hey, I forgot to take care of something. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Need me to come with you?” Ariah spins around, a mug in hand. “It’s pretty late already.”

“Nah. It’ll be quick; don’t worry.”

“Okay. Do you want some coffee?” she asks, switching on the coffee machine.

“Before bed?” I grin. “No, but thanks.”

She waves me off. I seize the opportunity to turn and retreat toward the staircase, my footsteps sounding unnaturally loud against the stone. The courtyard lies at the far end of the building, a distance that feels much greater now that the lights have dimmed.

It takes nearly ten minutes to navigate the labyrinth of corridors. The air here is colder, carrying a faint, metallic scent of damp concrete. The halls are entirely deserted, the lockers standing like rows of silent sentinels watching me pass. Every shadow seems to stretch toward my ankles, and I cannot shake the heavy, prickling sensation that I am being followed. I should have asked Ariah to come with me. I should not be alone in this part of the school.

Just as the thought takes hold, a girl’s voice squeals directly into the shell of my ear.

“Ooh, so you remembered!”

The sound is a sharp, cold spike of noise in the silence. I lurch sideways, my heart hammering against my ribs with such force it hurts. I stumble against the wall, my hand flying to my chest to steady my breathing.

“Tilly,” I hiss, my voice trembling. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she sighs. She does not walk; she simply appears to my right, drifting through the dim light like a smudge of smoke. Her eyes are wide and unblinking. “You are on your way to leave the door open for my friend, right?”

“It depends on whether the cat is there.”

Her brows knit together. “You don’t believe me?”

“I want to. But I barely know you, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, I guess you’re right. But there really is a cat, though.”

“Well, I’d like to see him first.” I hesitate. “It’s a him, right?”

She nods, signaling for me to follow her. “Yeah. He’s a real cutie. But be careful. He likes to bite fingers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” We don’t speak again until we reach the back kitchen door, which leads out to the courtyard. I turn to Tilly. “Where’s the trapdoor you talked about?”

She points at the door. “I’ll show you once we’re outside. It’s close by.”

“If it’s somewhere shady, then you can forget it.”

“It’s not. You’ll see.”

“Fine,” I say as I expel a breath, pushing open the door. “I’m closing it for now. If I see that cat, I’ll leave it open.”

“Sure. But you’ll need to take a rock or something from outside to hold it open.”

“Yeah,” I reply, trailing after Tilly to the edge of the garden. There, a thick cluster of rose bushes surrounds a trapdoor nestled in the ground. “What a lousy spot for rose bushes,” I mutter under my breath, eyeing the prickly thorns that seem ready to snag at anyone who gets too close.

“Must suck for the living, stepping over them.”

I have to lean over the rose bushes to open the trapdoor, nicking my forearm with a thorn. I mutter a curse. “A real, crappy place.”

The door creaks open, revealing a soft yellow light spilling out from within. Just as I’m about to navigate my way over the tangle of rose bushes, a plump ginger cat suddenly darts up the steps, letting out a throaty “Meow!” as it bolts toward me.

“See?” Tilly smirks. “Told you he’s real.”

I eye her with raised brows. “Doesn’t look like he’s starving.”

“My friend makes sure he eats enough. It can get cold out here,” Tilly insists. “Or so I heard.”

I kneel down to scratch Ginger’s ears, giving the plump cat a few gentle pets before coaxing him back inside and closing the trapdoor behind him. As I stand, I turn to Tilly. “Does he ever get let out?”

Tilly tilts her head slightly. “My friend leaves the door open when it’s warmer so Ginger can get out.”

“Got it.”

Tilly crosses her arms, a hint of impatience in her gaze. “So, you believe me now? Will you keep the door open tonight?”

“Yeah, I will. But make sure your friend closes it after.” I pause, my brows knitting together in confusion. “Wait, how does your friend feed Ginger on other nights?”

Tilly grins with a touch of guilt in her expression. “He used to do it himself—until he got caught. That’s why I asked you.”

“And what about tomorrow? And the night after that? And so on?”

“That’s the thing…”

“Tilly, I can’t do this every night!”

“Please, just for a while?” Tilly pleads, swooping closer until her presence forms a chilling mass of cold air pressing against me. “At least until we figure out a better plan?”

I rub my temples and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but you and your friend need to come up with something else. I’m not doing this every night. Got it?”

Tilly’s face lights up with a wide grin. “We will, I promise. And thank you!”

As I head back inside, I wedge a rock between the door and the frame to keep it propped open. Just as I turn to leave, I catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye—a shadow darting past the trapdoor. My heart skips a beat, and I straighten, scanning the area for any sign of life. But there’s nothing.

Maybe I imagined it?

“Tilly?” I call out, waiting for a response. “Tilly, you still there?”

Silence.

I mutter to myself, “This place is really going to drive me insane.” Being careful, I let go of the door, making sure it stays in place. Once I’m confident the rock will hold, I turn and make my way back to my room.

When I reach my door, I find Elijah standing outside, flanked by two guards. He’s deep in conversation with Ariah, but when she spots me, she exclaims, “Ah, there she is.”

“Hey?” I say, shooting Elijah an inquisitive look, trying to ignore the heavy stares from the guards. “What are you doing here?”

Elijah holds up his history notebook. “I need help with something.”

I know he’s looking for an excuse to talk to me, but I play along. “Sure. What do you need help with?”

Elijah opens the notebook and points to a random section of notes on runes and symbols. “I’m missing a few descriptions.”

Which, of course, he isn’t. I nod, signaling for him to follow me into the room. “Let me grab my book.”

As we step inside, Elijah turns to the guards. “I’m sure you don’t need to stand inside while I write down my work.”

“Five minutes,” one of the guards grunts. “No funny business.”

Elijah shuts the door in his face.

“Keep the door unlocked!” the guard’s voice warns.

“Got it,” Elijah replies, rolling his eyes as he guides me past Ariah toward the far side of the room, away from the door. He tosses his notebook onto my bed, then turns to me, his expression serious. “Someone is following you.”

Ariah, who is sipping her coffee, nearly chokes as she lowers her mug, wide-eyed. “What?”

Elijah repeats, his voice stern, “Someone is following you. At first, I thought it was Lucian—”

“Okay, but he’s been acting weird,” Ariah interrupts. “Well, he’s generally weird, but he told Hailey that—”

I cut her off, not wanting Elijah to know what Luca said. “Why did you think it was him? And why does it sound like you’ve changed your mind?”

Elijah’s face scrunches up as he looks between Ariah and me. “What did he tell you?”

I sigh, realizing he’s not going to let it go. “He thinks you’re up to something.”

Elijah snorts. “Of all people, he’s the one who’s up to something.”

I cross my arms. “Yeah, I figured that much.”

Elijah’s expression softens, but there is a seriousness in his eyes. “You need to be careful, Hails. Something’s going on around school.”

“Like what? Other than people getting attacked?”

“I…” His voice trails off, concern replacing the sternness in his gaze. “I can’t explain, but someone is watching you.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you know someone is watching me?” I press.

Elijah steps closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve seen someone—something—watching you. Following you around.”

“What?” I swallow hard, my mind flashing back to the shadow I saw earlier. “What do you mean?”

Elijah’s grip tightens slightly. “It’s a shadow figure. I’ve seen it trailing you, and I can feel its eyes on you. I know it sounds crazy…” He shakes his head. “Just…”

My heart races as the memory of the shadow outside the trapdoor comes back to me.

“I can feel it wanting to bring you harm,” Elijah continues, his voice low and urgent. He lets go of me and sits on my bed, his face troubled. “I know this sounds completely insane, but please, don’t go anywhere alone. And lock your windows, not just your door. Okay?”

“Hey, it gets warm in here at night,” Ariah protests.

“Then get a fan,” Elijah snaps, cutting her off. “I’m serious. You need to be careful. I can’t risk losing you—”

“Time’s up!” The bedroom door flies open, and a guard steps inside. Elijah grabs his notebook and jumps to his feet.

He wraps his arms around me in a quick hug, leaning in close to whisper in my ear, “If I find out anything else, I’ll let you know. Just please… be careful.”

With a sad glance, he follows the guard out of the room.

I turn to Ariah, still reeling from Elijah’s words. “Is it just me, or is everyone acting weird?”

“Tell me about it,” Ariah says, locking the door behind him. “But I think we should listen to Elijah. Not that I’m sure I believe the part about the shadow figure following you. That’s a bit—out there, you know?”

I head to my side of the closet, biting the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, it could be a ghost,” Ariah suggests.

“A ghost that he sees?” I shake my head. “Unlikely.”

“Hmm. He’s been acting strangely, Hailey—” Ariah hesitates. “You don’t think he could be on something?”

“Like what? Drugs?”

Her lips press together. “He’s been through a lot. Not that it’s okay, but it would explain a lot.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” I hesitate, doubt creeping in. Would he?

Ariah continues talking, mentioning something about potions, but I tune out as I change into my pajamas and cross the room to my bed.

Instinctively, my eyes flick to the space under the bed, half expecting to see a ghostly figure peeking out. I’m so done with shadows, spirits, and ghosts for the night. But a bigger part of me wants answers—especially for Elijah’s sake, so I can prove his innocence.

The crinkle of a paper bag catches my attention, and I see Ariah falling into her bed with a pack of crisps. “Is she here?”

I shake my head, climbing into bed. “Nope.”

We don’t speak again after that, letting the silence of the room settle around us. I lose track of time as I stare at the ceiling, my mind spinning with more questions than answers, up until sleep finally claims me.

A soft rustle of movement pulls me from a vivid dream where I am in my wolf form, racing through a moonlit forest. The echoes of the dream linger in my ears—the crunch of dried sticks and leaves beneath my paws, the haunting chorus of distant howls that fill the night.

The dream fades into darkness, and I become aware of my surroundings. I’m back in bed, cocooned in layers of thick blankets. Without opening my eyes, I turn onto my side, feeling myself teeter on the edge of sleep once again.

More rustling, followed by a faint whimper. My eyes snap open, and my gaze immediately locks onto Ariah’s bed. Moonlight filters through the window, bathing the room in a cold, silvery glow. She lies on her back, hands gently resting on her chest, bathed in the eerie light.

It takes a moment for my brain to register that something is wrong. My eyes zero in on her lips, which are slightly parted. Red. Far too much red. I squint, a knot forming in my stomach. Is that… blood?

A wave of dread crashes over me, my heart plummeting into my stomach. I want to call out her name, but the sheer terror clamps my throat shut. I must be seeing things. I have to be. I rub my eyes as subtly as possible, praying it’s just a trick of the light. But no. The blood is still there, vivid and real.

Another faint stir of movement. My eyes flick to the foot of Ariah’s bed, where a shadowy figure looms. My first thought is that it’s the shadow person Elijah warned me about, but then it shifts into the moonlight, hovering over Ariah’s still form.

It’s a person cloaked in black, their hood drawn low to conceal their face. My gaze darts to the bedroom door—it’s ajar, spilling a sliver of golden light from the hallway into the room.

My pulse pounds loudly in my ears as I freeze, caught in the paralyzing grip of indecision. This isn’t just a nightmare—something is terribly wrong.

We’re in danger.

Ariah is in danger.

The realization hits me like a sledgehammer to the skull, jolting me out of my drowsy haze. What if this is the murderer? What if Ariah is their next victim? My eyes go back to the blood, vivid against her lips. There’s blood. Too much blood.

No.

Not Ariah.

I suck in a deep breath, then I scream.

Chapter 18

I have screamed plenty of times in my life—whether it was from fighting with kids at school, cheering for my favorite hockey team, or waking up from nightmares that sent me running to my parents.

But this is different.

This sound does not belong to me.

Panic and fear grip my throat so tightly that the room blurs. A single, consuming thought remains: I must signal for help or force the intruder away from my best friend.

The latter comes first.

I unleash another scream. It is an earth-shattering vibration that tears through the air. The dark silhouette is thrown across the room as if struck by a physical weight, crashing into the wall with a bone-rattling thud. The floorboards beneath my bed groan and split.

A pained hiss escapes the figure as they struggle to rise, while the entire room quakes with a violent, rhythmic force. Dust falls from the ceiling, and the glass in the window frames begins to crack.

“Stop screaming, damned child!”

The voice is inhuman—cold, hollow, and thick with malice. It carries the scent of stagnant water and something metallic.

This is when I notice its lips, lined with blood.

I suck in a sharp breath. For a second, the earthquake stops. The silence is heavy and suffocating. Then, I let out another scream, and the room erupts with even greater violence. The dresser slides across the floor, and the mirror shatters, raining shards of glass onto the carpet.

Amidst the destruction, I hear doors down the hallway splintering open and voices shouting in alarm.

The figure staggers toward me, leaning heavily against the wall. They hesitate, the darkness of their hood hiding most of their face. “What the hell are you?” the intruder hisses.

A fleeting thought crosses my mind—how ironic the question is, considering I want to know the same about him. But the thought vanishes as our bedroom door swings open. The lights flick on, blinding me. A guard stands in the doorway, his eyes wide and his hand hovering over his weapon.

The cloaked figure is gone. There is only an empty space where he stood a breath ago.

My voice catches in my throat. I whip around toward the open window, where the curtains are still snapping in the wind. “Someone was in our room!” I spring to my feet, pointing frantically at the dark glass. “I think—”

I falter, my gaze falling on the motionless form on the other bed. I rush to her side, my hands shaking so hard I can barely touch her. “Ariah? Ari? She needs help—hurry!”

The guard glances at Ariah’s frail state before darting back into the hallway. Moments later, Mrs. Humphrey bursts into the room, clad in a silky pink nightgown.

“What is going on here?” Her hand flies to her mouth when she sees Ariah. “Not again.”

“Please help her!” I plead.

Mrs. Humphrey pushes me aside without hesitation, placing her hand on Ariah’s throat. “She has a pulse.”

I move to the foot of the bed, yanking the covers off to check for injuries.

“What happened here?” Mrs. Humphrey demands.

My eyes lock onto the blood stain on Ariah’s sheets. “There was someone in our room. They did something to her. Look at her lips.”

“I see it,” Mrs. Humphrey replies, wiping the blood from Ariah’s lips with her fingers. She sniffs it, her face turning pale. “This isn’t—” She stops, her gaze shifting toward the doorway. “Get the nurse, now!”

I try to move closer, straining my vision to see if Ariah is breathing despite what the headmistress claims. She appears ghostly white, her skin drained of color and lacking its usual, natural, soft blush.

“Get the girl out. Now!”

Someone plants a hand on each of my shoulders and then forcefully steers me out the door. “Hey, wait. What are you doing?”

I find Nate in the hallway, red-faced and arguing with a guard stationed outside our door, trying to push past him. The guard remains stone-faced, shoving Nate back with little effort each time. “Those are my friends, you dim-witted, cross-eyed goat!”

“Nate!” I rush around the guard to get to him.

“Hailey, oh my word. You’re okay. Where’s Ariah?”

I throw my arms around his neck and collapse into sobs, unable to find the words.

“Hails?” he whimpers, making my tears fall harder. “Hails, is she okay?”

“Move!” Elijah’s voice cuts through, and suddenly, I’m pulled from Nate’s grasp and wrapped in another set of arms—strong, familiar, and comforting. Elijah holds me close, his chest solid and reassuring. “What’s going on in there? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Nate squeaks. “This buffoon of a guard won’t let me in or tell me anything.”

I pull away from Elijah, my disheveled hair sticking to my tear-soaked cheeks. Through shaky breaths, I manage, “Ariah’s been attacked. I thought it was a shadow figure—or maybe a ghost.” I shake my head, panic swelling in my chest. “It was a man. Tall, wearing a hood.”

“Did you see his face?” Elijah cups my cheeks, his expression intense. When I shake my head, he presses, “Is there anything that stood out? Anything at all?”

The desperation in his voice is unmistakable—and I know why. This can prove he isn’t behind the attacks.

This can also lead to the person responsible for his sister’s murder.

“No.” I meet his gaze. “But he was skin and bones, much taller than you.”

“Well, that clears us,” says Luca, appearing beside us, looking as though he never went to bed. “And you’re taller than I am, alpha boy.”

“Where’s Humphrey?” Elijah asks, ignoring Luca’s snark.

“She’s inside.” I point to the closed door. Just then, two school nurses and a man who looks like a doctor rush past and disappear into the room. I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Humphrey sitting beside Ariah, the covers pulled away—still not moving.

Nate sees it, too, and a sob escapes him before the door slams shut in our faces again.

The familiar alarm sounds—six times. My eyes dart to Elijah, who nods. “That’s a good sign,” he murmurs, draping an arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the cafeteria.

Nate, still frozen and staring in horror at the door, is jolted back to reality by Luca, who nudges him. “Come on, man. They’re doing everything they can for her.”

Nate glances at him with a blank expression.

“Besides, your other friends need you. There’s no point in standing here the whole time.”

Elijah and Luca exchange a silent nod of understanding that I’m not privy to before we disappear around the corner. I want to go back for Nate, but my own body feels too heavy to carry. I can only hope Luca can handle it, even though he’s a jerk half the time.

A good majority of the academy is already in the cafeteria, students restlessly gathered around tables, their curious gazes sticking to me as I enter.

Celeste, seated beside a girl I don’t know, jumps up and hurries over. “It happened again, didn’t it?” Her eyes flick between me and Elijah. “Hailey, you’re—” She stops, realization setting in. Tears glisten in her eyes. “Ariah?”

Elijah answers for me, “She’s been attacked.”

Celeste’s voice quivers. “Is she…?”

“She has a pulse,” I croak. “But I don’t know. It looks really bad, Celeste.”

Celeste nods, swallowing shakily. “Where’s Nate? Have you seen him?”

“He’s okay. Luca’s with him.” Elijah hooks his arm with mine, leaning close to whisper, “Come. Let’s sit.”

“Luca?” The distaste is evident in Celeste’s voice. “I don’t like this.”

“It wasn’t him.” I let Elijah lead me to a seat in the far back. “I saw who attacked Ariah. It wasn’t him.”

“You saw?” Celeste’s eyes widen. “Does Humphrey know? Who was it?”

I shake my head. “Sort of. He was tall, much taller than Luca or Elijah. And really thin.”

Elijah shoots me a grateful look. “It seems the guards are finally realizing I’m not behind this. They’re letting up.”

“Hailey, you should tell Humphrey everything,” Celeste urges. “She needs to know.”

“She’ll question her when things calm down,” Elijah assures.

Nate bursts into the cafeteria, running as if being chased, his face tear-streaked and trembling. “She’s alive! She’s breathing! Humphrey confirmed it. Hails, there’s hope!”

Celeste lets out a whimper. “She’s okay?”

“Well, no.” Nate’s face falls. “They’ve moved her to a hospital, but there’s a chance she’ll pull through.”

“Can we see her?” Celeste steps toward him. “They have to let us see her!”

“I already asked.” Nate takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “Humphrey said she’ll keep us updated. As soon as there’s any news, she’ll make sure we know. But for now, we have to wait and see what happens.”

“Wait and see?” Celeste’s voice cracks. “You mean if she makes it?”

“She will make it,” I say firmly. “She’ll be fine.” My words are more hopeful than certain, but I refuse to believe Ariah will meet the same fate as Sally, Katie, and Lila.

“Hailey’s right,” Elijah adds. “She’ll make it.”

It feels like an eternity in the cafeteria, the minutes dragging by as the tension mounts. Over an hour of anxious whispers and restless fidgeting passes before the massive entrance doors suddenly slam open. Mr. Barnes stalks in, his stern expression manifesting a chill over the room.

My head, which had been resting on Elijah’s shoulder, snaps up. I watch Mr. Barnes sprint to the front center of the room, his presence drawing immediate attention. He clears his throat, a sound that cuts through the loud chatter and silences the room. Everyone turns to look at him.

“Good morning, students. As you are all aware by now, there was another attack.”

Impatience ripples through the room as a few hands shoot up, their bearers bubbling with questions. Mr. Barnes, however, ignores them and presses on, his voice unwavering. “Since our dear headmistress is currently dealing with the issue, I will be the one to address all of you, and I will be answering questions—” he pins one of the boys who has a hand raised with a deliberate, almost disgruntled look, “after everything else is taken care of and addressed.”

Celeste sits forward in her seat, her right leg bouncing incessantly. “Can he just tell us if she’s okay or not?”

Nate, beside her, responds in a low, steady voice, “You’d think it would be a priority.”

“One of our students, Miss Ariah Winter, has fallen victim to whoever is behind the attacks occurring around the academy,” Mr. Barnes announces, rubbing his hands together. “Unfortunately, she is in a dire state but, thus far, is alive. I ask that all of you send her your prayers and well wishes for her speedy recovery.”

Nate pulls a face, muttering under his breath, “We already know that, you toad.”

“Now, I cannot provide much more information regarding the state of Miss Winter; however, you will be informed once there are any new developments. No visiting the hospital will be allowed until further notice. As for that, we will be keeping you all in the cafeteria until we have secured the grounds.”

A rush of groans follows, echoing the collective frustration in the room.

“Settle down, settle down, everyone,” Mr. Barnes raises his hands, attempting to calm the crowd. “You will be served cocoa and bagels. And due to the disturbances over the past few weeks—and your disrupted sleep schedules—”

“You don’t say,” Celeste mutters. “We’re all dead on our feet, and we still have to go to class. Like, be for real.”

“I’m glad to announce that classes will be put on hold for three days. This gives you all some time to catch up on much-needed rest. In addition, no one is to go anywhere alone. No wandering around at night.”

My lips thin with skepticism. “Like that’s going to help.”

“Keep your doors locked at all times. Do not let anyone into your rooms that you are not well acquainted with. Also—”

Whatever Mr. Barnes says next, I miss entirely. A guard steps in front of me, blocking my view. “Miss Woods, the headmistress is requesting your presence in her office.”

I bolt up to my feet with Elijah short in tow. Not a second later, Nate and Celeste join us. The guard regards them with a pinched expression. “Just Miss Woods.”

Elijah takes hold of my hand, passing the guard a firm look. “If she goes, I’m going with her.”

“But—” the guard starts; however, Elijah wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“How do I know it’s not one of you behind the attacks?” he snaps. “For all we’re aware of, it can be. Since your job is to protect us—and you’re failing miserably at it.”

This draws the attention of a few students sitting close enough to hear. A boy adds to the spectacle, “Yeah! Aren’t you supposed to keep this place safe?”

The guard peers once more at Elijah, who seems seconds away from pouncing on him, and resorts to clearing his throat. He accepts his fate with a “Follow me, please.”

With Elijah clasping my hand and my two friends in tow, we follow the guard out of the cafeteria. Naturally, all eyes are glued on us, and it is a relief when we step outside into the hallway, the noise fading as the doors to the cafeteria close behind us.

Our footsteps echo as we walk in silence, the emptiness of the cavernous hallways amplifying the tension that clings to the space. Shadows dance along the walls from the dim overhead lights, casting eerie shapes that seem to move with a life of their own.

As we turn a corner at the other end of the academy, tucked away from the rest of the school, the familiar scent of burning incense wafts through the air, mingling with the faint hint of candle wax. The hallway leading to Headmistress Humphrey’s office is almost pitch-black, except for the soft, flickering glow of candlelight that spills out from the slightly ajar door.

The guard pauses and knocks slowly, pushing the door open after a muffled response from within. The office is as I remember it: dimly lit by dozens of candles scattered across shelves and the large oak desk. The scent of sandalwood incense fills the room, the smoke curling lazily in the air. For a moment, I wonder if Mrs. Humphrey ever gets sick of all the heavy scents.

The lady in question sits behind her desk, her usual composed demeanor replaced by a look of exhaustion and stress. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and her shoulders sag under an invisible weight. She looks up as I enter, her gaze weary but sharp.

“Miss Woods, please sit down,” she says, her voice lacking its usual warmth and authority.

I take a seat in the wooden chair opposite her, the strain in the room thick enough to slice through with a sword. Mrs. Humphrey takes a deep breath as if gathering her thoughts and leans forward, folding her hands on the desk.

“Miss Woods,” she begins, her tone softening slightly, “I’m sure you’re aware of the severity of the situation we’re—” Her gaze flicks behind me. “Why on earth would all of you need to be here?”

I feel a gentle hand rest on my shoulder, not needing to look up to know it’s Elijah. “Mrs. Humphrey, we feel it’s our right to be present, considering the circumstances. Miss Winter is not only our friend, but so is Miss Woods. And, as you are aware,” Elijah’s voice becomes firmer. “I’m directly affected by the attacks. I lost my sister. Friends. And I have been falsely accused, relentlessly torn apart in interrogations, and shamed in front of my peers for no accredited reason.”

“I understand that Mr. Ledger, but why do they—”

“They,” Elijah doesn’t give her a chance to finish. “They are also friends of Miss Winter and Miss Woods.”

“And Katie’s friend,” Nate quips from somewhere on my left. “Ma’am, honestly, we just want to know that Ariah will be okay and Hailey needs our support. She witnessed our best friend being attacked.”

Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes travel to the other side of me, her brows furrowing.

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Luca’s voice snorts. Surprised, I snap my head in the direction of his voice and see him standing there with a lopsided smirk, hands on his hips, exuding his usual I-don’t-give-a-crap attitude.

Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes narrow, and she releases a long, defeated breath. “Very well, then. You all may take a seat.”

Everyone settles around me in the chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of Mrs. Humphrey’s desk. The room floods with a weighty silence, broken only by the soft crackling of the candles as we wait for the headmistress to gather her thoughts.

“First,” she begins, her voice softer now, “Miss Winter is receiving the best care possible. We have our most skilled healers attending to her, and while her condition is serious, we are hopeful she will recover.”

A collective sigh of relief passes through us, though the worry doesn’t completely dissipate. Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes meet mine again, a flicker of something unreadable lingering in them. “Miss Woods, there is something in particular that I do have to address with you.” Her eyes skim over my friends. “I’m not sure, however, if you feel comfortable making everyone aware of it.”

I shift in my seat, wondering where this is going. “I don’t hide anything from them.”

“I see.” Mrs. Humphrey nods. “Miss Woods, there was a rather unusual earthquake that woke up the academy—in exact pace with your screaming.”

I blanch, recalling the unusual incident. I completely forgot about that major occurrence with everything else going on. “Yeah?”

“Wait a minute—” Nate pipes up. “That was Hailey?”

“I don’t think that was me. I mean, I…” my voice trails. “It was the man in my room, I think.”

In my gut, I know that it came from me. I remember the energy pulsing through me—the room trembling in exact timing with my screams. Though, at that exact moment, I was too horrified by the state of my best friend to pay attention to it. I look up at the headmistress. “So it wasn’t just me? Everyone else felt it, too?”

“Yes.” Everyone in the room responded at the same time.

“Oh.”

“It was quite remarkably powerful,” Mrs. Humphrey continues. “Which doesn’t surprise me, coming from you.”

I raise my gaze to meet hers. “But we all bear some kind of magic or ability, right?”

“That we do.” She inclines her head. “What we haven’t addressed in our curriculum is that most of the time, we bear the abilities of one element. Wolf-born students are already aware of this matter, but it’s rarely discussed as their element doesn’t show itself until the age of seventeen or eighteen. In rare cases, it shows up earlier.”

“Okay?”

“You have made it obvious that your element is spirit.”

“I don’t follow?” I sit forward.

“You see the dead,” she clarifies. “However, what we experienced with your screaming earlier was the effects of the earth.”

“I don’t get the big deal?”

“Are you suggesting she has more than one element?” Nate inquires, his eyes wide. “That’s unheard of.”

“Look,” I say, annoyance bubbling inside me. “If elements are such a big deal around here, why am I only now finding out about it? Why hasn’t anyone mentioned them to me?”

“As I’ve said, we don’t start on the subject until the year you turn seventeen. It’s when most wolves discover their element. It may come up in passing, but not be taken seriously until you get close to discovering it or bearing it.” The headmistress flashes a slight smile despite looking exhausted. “You’ll learn that wolves tend to focus on the present and not the future.”

“I have to disagree on that,” Elijah mumbles.

“Unless you’re royalty, and it’s your duty,” Mrs. Humphrey counters, sitting back in her seat. “As it is, Miss Woods. You carry more than one element, which proves the strength of that mark of yours.”

“Guess I won’t know how powerful it is since I’ve never been told about elements being an important source of our magic,” I snip.

Mrs. Humphrey laughs lightly. “Ah, well, now you know.”

Chapter 19

An icy chill disperses the warm, cozy air inside the headmistress’s office the moment the door swings open. A guard stands in the middle of the doorframe, his expression taut as he holds up an object in his hand.

“A sincere apology for the interruption, priestess, but you have insisted that we notify you if we find any information of importance.”

Mrs. Humphrey beckons him inside.

The guard rounds us, moving to Mrs. Humphrey’s side and placing a familiar-looking rock onto her desk. “It appears that there is someone inside this building working with the attacker. We found this at the back kitchen door, holding it open.”

I can feel the life draining out of my face.

“We have found evidence that the attacker used it as a point of entry. However, as claimed, they did use Miss Winter’s bedroom window as an exit.”

“Because the magic only protects what comes in and not what goes out,” the headmistress says, her lips twisting down. She lifts her gaze to meet the guard’s eyes. “Have you tried tracing who might have made use of this?”

My discomfort vanishes, replaced by a sickening plunge in my gut. My chest tightens until I can barely breathe. It is my fault! All of it is my fault!

I consider saying something, but at first, I decide against it as the guard replies, “No, we haven’t.”

My heart begins to race when Mrs. Humphrey requests, “Hand this over to someone who can. And let me know as soon as you do.”

I clear my throat, guilt sinking its claws into me like a vicious beast. So does panic. I messed up so bad. “It won’t be necessary.”

The headmistress looks at me, arching a thin, dark brow. “Do you know something about this?”

I feel the heavy weight of every gaze fixed on me. I incline my head ever so slowly, the sinking feeling worsening inside my chest. “I promise, it’s not what it looks like.”

Mrs. Humphrey sits back, crossing her arms in front of her on top of her desk. “Go on,” she urges, her lips pursed.

“A ghost—her name is Tilly. S…she convinced me to do it.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“To put the rock there.” I want to cry. “She told me she has a friend that’s been feeding the cat outside, in the courtyard. But this friend got in trouble and wasn’t allowed to go outside.” It dawns on me that she claimed the friend would be detected by the magical ward. The trace will be on it if they go through there.

Of course—the attacker won’t want anyone to be able to trace them. I close my eyes, catching my breath. How could I have been so stupid? “She said she needed help to keep it open so this friend could feed the cat.”

“Oh, Hailey,” Nate groans, his exasperation like a bucket of icy water spilling over me.

“Miss Woods.” Mrs. Humphrey seems tense. “Like humans—and our kind, ghosts can lie and trick you.”

“I’ve come to that conclusion myself just now,” I lament, feeling defeated. “I swear. I won’t do anything to hurt my friends. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Tilly—” the headmistress frowns. “I see, now. I will have a word with her.”

“The cat is real, though. I checked,” I insist. “I wanted to make sure she wasn’t lying. Maybe she was—I don’t know. A coincidence?”

“Someone could have been watching her,” Elijah adds, his grip tightening on my hand. “I’ve seen—” he stops. “I mean, the attacker could have been watching the school. Keeping an eye on everyone coming and going.”

I have a feeling he wanted to tell Mrs. Humphrey about the shadow following me, but he decided against it. Curious as to why he decided not to, I peek questioningly at him.

He gives a faint shake of the head. I take it as my cue to be quiet.

“I’m aware of the cat. He’s quite well-fed and taken care of by our groundskeeper.” Mrs. Humphrey gets up from her seat and walks over to a window, peering out. “It could be a coincidence.”

Elijah’s eyes narrow. There’s something in the way his face pulls that gives off the sense that something is bothering him. Whatever it is, he doesn’t voice it.

Mrs. Humphrey turns her attention to me. “Miss Woods, next time, either ignore the request or come to see me first.”

I nod quickly. I won’t be dumb enough to fall for that again.

“I’m not going to stress much over this. Harold.” The headmistress addresses the guard. “It seems Miss Woods is guilty of an innocent mistake. You can go. Notify me if you notice anything else of importance.”

The guard offers a hasty half-bow before sprinting out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

I make an error of glancing over my shoulder at Nate and Celeste. They stare at me with—what? Disappointment? Sadness? A tinge of anger?

My heart drops, and I focus my attention back on the headmistress.

“My biggest concern now is what you saw, Miss Woods. What did the attacker look like? Did you see any distinguishable features? Did he say anything?” She pauses. “It was a he, correct?”

“Yes, he. And I didn’t really see much.” I sit forward. “He was by far taller than Elijah.”

“And more than I, of course,” Luca adds pointedly.

“And Luca—I mean Lucian,” I agree. “He was incredibly skinny. Unnaturally skinny. But I couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a hood.”

“And?” Mrs. Humphrey presses.

“He spoke to me.”

“What did he say?”

I find myself having to think hard. It takes me a moment before I can recall the full exchange. “He told me to be quiet.” I pause. “And he asked me what I am—when I was screaming, I assume.”

“I see.” She crosses the room and sits back down by her desk. “Is that all he said?”

“Yes. That’s all.”

“What did his voice sound like?” she inquires further. “Could it possibly have been a student?”

“No. It was deep and hollow. It sounded…” my voice trails off, and I suck in a breath. “It didn’t sound human. It didn’t sound normal.”

“Elaborate.”

“It’s like his voice drained the life out of the air. It sounded dark and—”

“Evil?” Elijah supplies.

“It sounded evil.”

“Holy cannoli in a basket!” Nate leaps up, his hands over his mouth. “There was blood on Ariah’s mouth. I saw it!”

Everyone’s eyes flick in his direction.

“And the point is?” the headmistress bit out, seeming annoyed all of a sudden.

“Hailey described him as dark and unnaturally skinny. His voice sounds inhuman.” Nate waves a hand. “Cooey, it’s a vampire behind the attacks!”

“Ouch!” I flinch, yanking my hand away from Elijah’s crushing grip. I shoot him a sharp, ‘what-the-hell-was-that?’ kind of look.

“Sorry,” he mutters stiffly, turning his gaze away.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Humphrey snaps. “Vampires would never dare to come here.”

“But we saw—” Nate starts, but she cuts him off, her irritation flaring.

“Enough! I will not have you spreading conspiracies and rumors in this school. Do you understand?”

Nate opens his mouth to protest, but Celeste pulls him back into his seat, shooting him a warning look. He glares but stays silent.

“No one, and nothing, is guilty until proven otherwise,” Mrs. Humphrey continues, her eyes landing on me. “Is there anything else of importance you would like to mention?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s all I have.”

“Good. Then, for now, you’re cleared, Mr. Ledger.”

Elijah barely nods, his expression guarded, clearly troubled—again.

“As for you, Miss Woods,” she turns to me, her tone firm. “If you experience any more trouble or receive any unusual requests, come to me immediately. Understood?”

“I understand,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.

“You’re all dismissed until further notice.”

The second the office door clicks shut behind us, Nate explodes into a rant. “I’m telling you, I suspect vampires are behind the attacks. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Why otherwise would there be blood on Ariah’s mouth? How did it get there? Wait—did she have any injuries on her face? Her neck?”

I press my fingers to my temples, massaging. I’m at the start of a killer headache. “No, she had no injuries to her face. Well, except for the blood on her lips. And I didn’t see her neck.”

“See? It proves my point.” His eyes bounce from mine to Celeste, then stop on Luca. “And I think Hailey was tricked into keeping that door open. I mean, I can’t imagine anyone in here not wanting to be detected if they live here. If the security here loses track of our whereabouts, we’re at risk, right? With everything going on and that, I sure as heck don’t want them to lose track of me.”

“But a vampire wouldn’t want to be noticed,” Celeste points out, her voice steady but tense.

“Sounds crazy, but it’s possible,” Luca adds, sounding the calmest in the group.

Elijah, however, looks irritated. “Like Humphrey said, vampires wouldn’t risk coming here. And besides, if it were a vampire, Ariah’s throat would have been ripped out.”

I flinch at his bluntness. He notices, muttering a faint apology.

“I need coffee.” Celeste lets out a shaky breath. “I need to clear my head. Nate, Hailey—are you guys coming?”

Nate starts walking toward the cafeteria, throwing Elijah a disgruntled look over his shoulder. For once, he doesn’t fire back a snarky comment; instead, he stalks off, not waiting for Celeste.

“Actually, I need a moment with Elijah and Lucian,” I breathe, managing to get Luca’s full name right this time.

Celeste eyes me warily. “Okay. Come to my room after. You need sleep, and I doubt you’ll want to stay in yours.”

I offer her a weak, appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

She heads after Nate, leaving the three of us alone.

“What’s up, Hailstorm?” Luca shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, eyebrows raised.

Elijah scowls at the nickname. “Her name is Hailey.”

Luca rolls his eyes. “Alpha testosterone is real.”

Elijah takes a step forward, but I press my hand to his chest, stopping him. “This is important.”

Seeing the weary look on my face, Elijah takes a step back. His brows knit together. “What’s wrong?”

“I should have told you earlier, but I wasn’t sure—” I sigh, staring down at my bare feet, the cold tile biting against my toes. I know the timing is terrible, but after what happened with the secret I kept about the Tilly encounter… I don’t want to take more risks. I suck in a deep breath, then force out, “I found a letter and a key beneath a loose floorboard. In my room.”

“Okay?” Luca tilts his head. “What does that have to do with us?”

“The letter was addressed to someone with an ‘L’ name. It could be either of you.”

“From?” Elijah asks, stepping closer until I can feel his breath on my cheek.

“It’s from Sally.” The moment I say her name, both of them tense up.

There’s a long pause before Luca finally says something. “What did it say?”

I recount the letter’s contents, mentioning how the worn paper suggested it had been read over and over. Someone else knew about it.

“When did you find it?” Elijah’s voice tightens. “Can I see it?”

“Of course. But… I found it the night I first came here.”

The air becomes icy all of a sudden as Elijah’s glare sharpens into something dangerous. I flick my gaze to Luca, grateful he’s handling the sudden flood of information better, though the distant, haunted look in his eyes tells a different story.

His calm demeanor is a thin veil over something deeper.

I make the mistake of peering back at Elijah. His hands clench into fists, his knuckles whitening. He takes a step closer, looming, and instinctively, I shrink back. A ripple of fear shoots through me, irrational but insistent.

Elijah wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?

“Whoa there, alpha boy.” Luca swiftly moves between us, also noticing the downward mood shift, his tone light but edged with a warning. “What’s with the unstable temper?”

Elijah’s eyes, still locked on mine, burn with fury. “Where’s the key?”

“I… I don’t know.” My voice wavers, barely holding steady. “It’s gone. Someone took it.”

He snaps, voice cutting like glass. “Are you sure you didn’t just lose it?”

My mouth falls open. “What is going on with you?”

“I asked you a question!” His voice rises, laced with a rare, raw anger that I’ve never seen in him before.

“That’s enough.” Luca grips my arm, his stance protective, eyes locked on Elijah like he’s ready to shield me if things go south. “Seriously, man. The letter could be for either of us—or both. Hailstorm has been through hell lately, and you know that better than anyone. Maybe she misplaced it. But now we know, and we’ll find the key. We’ll figure out whatever Sally was getting at.”

“She should have told me sooner,” Elijah growls.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luca mutters, making a face and gently steering me away. “Let’s go. He needs space.”

“But—” I start, as Elijah curses under his breath and starts to pace like a caged animal. He rants about tearing my room apart to find the key. But I don’t get to tell him it’s not there as Luca half-drags me away.

“Keep walking,” Luca urges, his voice low. “Something is seriously wrong with him.”

“What do you—” I yank my arm free, glaring at him. “I can walk on my own.”

Luca waves a hand. “Whatever you want to do or don’t want to do, just get away from him. Now.”

I glance back, a knot of worry tightening in my chest, but Elijah’s already gone, swallowed by the shadows. I turn to Luca, my voice edged with frustration. “What the hell is wrong with him? Did you hear that? He’s—” I suck in a breath, finding it hard to say it out loud. “He threatened me.”

“I told you something was up.”

“Yeah, hard to forget.” I shiver, rubbing my arms against the sudden cold that has nothing to do with the temperature. “I need shoes. And a jacket.”

“Let’s grab your stuff, then. You can show me the letter.”

“I don’t want to go back in there.” My gaze flickers down the hallway, landing on a vase of wilting flowers—a bleak reflection of the mood. “And Elijah’s probably tearing the place apart already.”

“He wouldn’t go in without you or Ariah letting him in. Normally, he’s all about rules and boundaries.” Luca shakes his head, exasperated. “But with how he’s been lately—who knows? Look, whatever. I’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, matching his stride. “So, do you have any idea what’s going on with him?”

Luca’s silence is louder than any answer.

Chapter 20

“I found him drinking this.” Luca pulls a vial from his pocket. Inside, a few droplets of silver, shimmering liquid remain. As I reach for it, he pulls back, nodding toward my bedroom door. “Inside. I don’t want curious ears catching our conversation.”

“Right.” I stick the key into the lock, turning it. A heavy feeling settles over me, and I swallow hard. “I don’t know. Are we even allowed to go in here?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“But isn’t it supposed to be off-limits or something? You know, for evidence gathering?”

Luca leans closer, giving me a mock smile. “Hailstorm, you’re not in the human world anymore. With magic, it takes about ten seconds to gather evidence.”

“If that’s the case, why is it so hard for everyone to catch the killer?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” He stands back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Gathering evidence is easy. But the evidence itself—like in the human world—is what determines whether it can lead us to the killer or not.”

“But there’s tracking, right? Or like the night I came here when they summoned you. Can’t they do something similar?”

“Whoa there,” he snorts, incredulous. “Are we going inside or not?”

I regard the door, as a tight sensation pulls at my skin. I sigh, pushing it open. “And?”

“They need to know who they are summoning or have something linked to the person to do that.”

I freeze by the door, my next question dying on the tip of my tongue. I stare at Ariah’s bed—it’s stripped bare and clean. The windows are closed and locked. Other than that, nothing seems out of place. “They clean up fast,” I murmur, forcing my eyes away from her bed and toward mine.

“That’s how they roll,” Luca quips. “Looks like alpha boy hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Yeah.” I can’t help wondering if he’s going to make good on his threat. The door clicks shut behind me, and I jump at the sudden noise. I shoot Luca a glare. “Could you be more subtle, maybe?”

“What? I simply closed it like any civilized person would.”

I blow out an exasperated sigh, crossing the room and pushing my bed aside. “So, what’s the potion you’re claiming Elijah is taking?”

“Not mere claims,” Luca chimes. “He’s been acting weird, and I caught him in the act. He was putting on quite a show in the cafeteria at dinner, trying way too hard to get the guards off his case. He then—”

“Okay, but have you had guards following you everywhere? Can you blame him?”

“Have you not been paying attention? Obvious mood swings, outbursts in class, and a total switch from his prim alpha-boy behavior to Sir Growls-alot.”

I roll my eyes. “You were saying he tried hard to get the guards off his case?”

“As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted, I followed him after that little escapade.” Luca crosses his arms. “Instead of going back to his bedroom like everyone else, he made a U-turn into one of the storage closets.”

“So he had to clean something?” I suggest, though even I know it sounds dumb.

“Then he conveniently took a stroll into a vent.”

I blink. “A vent?”

“Yup, the thing in the ceiling that provides air circulation and is commonly used by thieves to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what a vent is. But it’s just…”

“Weird?” Luca supplies. “Of course, I followed him. We ended up in a storage room of sorts. I hid and watched as he took out a box filled with potions—like this one.” He holds up the vial. “Sadly, I got caught. No big skirmish, but I did learn that whatever is in this bottle is important to the man in question.”

I stare at the vial, the droplets of silver gleaming beneath the morning light. “What do you think it is?”

“No freaking clue.” He slips the bottle back into his pocket. “But I’m trying to find someone willing to—oh.”

“What?”

He cracks a wide grin. “I might know someone who’d help.”

“The potions teacher?”

“I’m not getting teachers involved. They’ll call him in, ask questions, and he’ll flash his alpha boy eyes at them. They’ll let him off the hook and probably tell me I’m being paranoid.”

I rub my eyes, dry and itchy from all the sleepless nights. “Not necessarily.”

“I’ve been here longer than you. I know how this goes.”

“Okay, if not a teacher, who then?”

“Dean.”

“Dean?”

He nods slowly, his grin widening. “He owes me a favor. Plus, he’s the top student in that class.”

“Oh. The guy who always works alone?”

“The one and only. I bet he sneaks out extra books on potions from the library.” He paces to the window. “Anyway, whatever it is might explain alpha boy’s behavior and clue us in on what he’s up to.”

“Right.” I dig into the small space between the floorboards and pull out the note from Sally. “How sure are you that Dean’s going to help? And do I even want to know why he owes you?”

Luca moves faster than I’ve ever seen, snatching the note from my hand. Despite his haste, he unfolds it carefully and reads in silence. The cocky grin slips from his lips, and his expression darkens. He’s quiet for what feels like a minute or two, lost in the words.

I step closer. His head snaps up, his lips tight. “I’m taking this.”

I nod, knowing this won’t sit well with the already moody Elijah, but something in Luca’s expression tells me to let him have it. Besides, Elijah seems more interested in the key anyway.

The air in the room, which was light despite the circumstances, now feels foreign and heavy, thick with grief I hope never to experience. I can’t look at Luca’s broken expression, so I busy myself by heading to the closet, trying to ignore the sadness swelling inside me as my eyes land on Ariah’s clothes. I dig through my own things, grabbing a thick mauve woolly sweater and a pair of canary-yellow slippers Ariah gave me.

When I turn around, I’m surprised to find the room empty. I don’t spend much time fretting over it, feeling the weight of death and misfortune lingering in what was supposed to be a comforting space. I stare at the mismatched outfit in my hands.

I don’t care how it looks. I put on the items and dart for the door, eager to leave this room behind.

I’m torn from an almost-catatonic sleep by someone shaking me by the shoulders and shouting, “She’s conscious. Wake up, Hailey!”

“Are you sure she’s not dead?” Nate’s familiar voice teases.

My eyes pop open to find Celeste grinning at me. “Ariah is awake, Hails. Humphrey’s already made arrangements for us to go see her!”

I don’t think I’ve ever woken up faster than at that moment, sprinting up from the two-seater sofa I’d been napping on in Celeste’s bedroom. “Wait—what?”

“Hell yeah.” Nate does an awkward dance of excitement. “Humphrey said she’s been up and talking.”

A sudden, unexpected wave of dizziness slams into me, and just as fast as I stand up, I find myself butt-planting back onto the sofa. “Whoa.” I press my palms to my forehead, trying to clear my vision.

“Are you okay?” Nate is by my side in an instant, gently resting a hand on my shoulder. “You look a bit pale.”

“It must be the lack of sleep,” Celeste concedes. “Like, for real, she’s been through all kinds of emotions and crap. It’s bound to catch up.”

“Understatement of the year.” I massage my temples, finally able to see clearly. “I’m tired.”

“You can stay here and rest up if you’d rather?” Celeste offers. “We can tell Ariah you need rest. She’ll understand.”

I shake my head, taking my time to stand up this time. “No. I want to be there for her. Besides, we’ve got three days off. When I get back, I’m out for all three of them.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Celeste says, offering a soft smile. “But if you feel like you’re about to pass out, you tell us. Okay?”

“Sure thing.” I catch a glimpse of my questionable outfit in the vanity and scrunch up my face. I’m still wearing my pajamas and the mauve sweater. Bare feet, again—my only shoes are the slippers I opted for earlier, currently lying on the plush carpet beside the sofa. “Well, crap. I’ll have to go grab something—”

“You don’t have to go back to that cursed room for anything.” Celeste dashes across her room, peeling open her closet doors. She stands back, waving into it. “Pick anything you like.”

“Okay, so while you pretty girls get ready, I’m going to grab some caffeine from the cafeteria to go. Do you two want anything?” Nate asks.

“Mocha with extra cream,” Celeste replies in an instant.

When Nate looks at me, I offer him a sheepish grin. “Anything suffocated with caffeine.”

“Sure thing. You need the energy.” He points at the door, turning his focus to Celeste. “Meet up at Humphrey’s office in twenty, okay?”

Celeste salutes him as he rushes out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“So?” Celeste peers at me. “Come pick something. We have twenty minutes, girl. That’s not nearly enough time for me to put together an outfit and do our makeup.”

I swallow a laugh, rushing to pick out something from the closet—admittedly appreciative that I don’t have to go back to my room or show my face in public with my mismatched pajama ensemble.

Twenty minutes later, on our way to Humphrey’s office, I found myself regretting the decision to agree to wear something from Celeste’s closet. Don’t get me wrong—she’s got amazing style. But the majority of her stuff is way too skimpy or tight for my comfort. I’m more of a hoodie and jeans kind of person.

The black tights with imbued crystals aren’t much of a problem—but the chunky heeled ankle boots and lacy white cami are starting to become an issue. Sure, both are stunning, but I have yet to master the art of walking in anything with a heel attached to it. And I’m starting to feel the effects of the early evening’s wintry air.

We were in such a rush that it didn’t cross my mind to grab a jacket. Not that I would have thought of it in the first place, considering it feels like a furnace in Celeste’s bedroom.

I let my hair fall over my shoulders in hopes of some form of heat, incredulous that Celeste, in her mini dress, appears unbothered by the sudden low temperatures.

Mrs. Humphrey is already waiting for us in her office, alongside Nate, who is standing in the corner with a paper cup holder bearing four steaming drinks. “Got you your coffee!”

“Yes!” Celeste exclaims, grabbing her drink from the holder.

Nate hands me mine. “Made sure there’s extra caffeine in there. Piping hot, so care, girl.”

“Thank you.” The moment I bear hold of the cup, a welcome heat surges through my hands. I take a small sip, then press the cup with both hands to my chest for additional warmth. I notice the extra cup in the holder, smirking at Nate. “I think I should have ordered an extra one for myself, too.”

Nate’s head flinches back slightly. “Huh?”

“The two coffees you got for yourself.”

“Oh, the extra one is for—” Nate doesn’t get to finish as the door flings open and Elijah steps inside. My heart beats faster, unable to forget his outburst earlier.

I understand he was angry at me, but his behavior toward me was unjustifiable. I decide it’s better to stare at the corner of the room instead, where Mrs. Humphrey has a few crystals scattered across a small coffee table.

“Ah, just in time, Mr. Ledger,” the headmistress declares, her eyes bouncing between all of us. “Are you four ready for the trip?”

I peek questioningly at Elijah, no idea why he’d want to go along—only to find him staring at me. Our eyes meet for a brief second before I avert my gaze again. I don’t miss the sad look he is giving me, but he has some serious explaining to do if he thinks I’m going to let it go.

“All ready to rumble.” Of course, that was Nate.

To my relief, we traveled via a portal. It was the same spell Elijah used to conjure one when he brought me here. Though, unlike back then, I prefer this method of travel at this moment. I can’t process being stuck on a long ride in a car with him.

“Ugh, I hate the smell of bleach and—what is that? Burnt devil’s claw? ” Nate pulls a face as we appear in the middle of what I suppose was the hospital’s entryway. My eyes immediately land on a sign indicating which section is where. I skim over the list: Trauma, Research, Prenatal, and the one that stands out the most—Transformation Management.

The air is filled with a low hum of activity, punctuated by the soft beeping of medical monitors and the occasional distant howl from deeper within the facility. I’m not going to lie—it’s a bit unnerving.

I open my mouth to voice my concerns over the continuous distressing noises but close it again as Mrs. Humphrey peers at us. “She’s the last one in the hallway on the right,” she directs. “Room thirty-three. I need to have a talk with the doctor if you four don’t mind.”

Without waiting for any of us to respond, she heads over to the reception area, dominated by a large, curved desk made of dark wood, polished to a high shine. Behind it, a petite blonde female receptionist greets the headmistress with a knowing smile, her eyes sharp and assessing.

When I turn, I discover Celeste and Nate have already made their way to Ariah’s room, leaving me alone with Elijah beside me.

Of course, they don’t know about what happened earlier with him. I take a step forward, only to feel something warm and smelling of mint drape over my shoulders. I look down to find Elijah has taken off his jacket and placed it on me. “You really don’t have—”

“I’m sorry.”

I close my mouth and glance up into his golden eyes. Above the hospital smell, a tinge of coffee hits my senses. I realize I am still holding the coffee Nate had given me. Slowly, I take a sip, waiting for Elijah to continue.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that. I don’t even know why—” His lips press together in a slight grimace. “I really could use some sleep, I guess. But it’s not an excuse.”

“You and I both,” I admit, sighing. “But that’s not the problem. You’ve been acting abnormally weird for the past while.”

“Lack of sleep?” he proposes in more what sounds like a question than an admission. When he notices me waiting, his broad shoulders sag a little. “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you why I’m suddenly acting the way I am.”

I’m tempted to tell him what Luca has shown me, but I decide against it as soon as the idea comes up. I want an honest relationship. If he’s hiding something, I want him to tell me himself as opposed to me dragging it out. I just hope he has a damn good excuse for whatever he’s up to.

“I appreciate the apology.” I bite into my cheek. “But you seriously need to work on your temper. It’s going to get you into a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t care about getting into trouble. I’m more worried about how terrible I’ve acted toward you.”

“I can let it go if it doesn’t happen again.” I exhale, not breaking eye contact. “And you’re the future alpha. You’re supposed to worry about not getting into trouble.”

He takes a light, bouncing step toward me. Then, he reaches for a lock of hair hanging in my face, pushing it back behind my ear. A tingle bursts across my skin, and I move closer to him.

“I really am sorry,” he breathes in a low voice.

“You’re forgiven.”

Elijah’s hand cups my jaw, and he leans in. My heart starts to race, excited to finally kiss him again when a throat clears beside us. We glance to our side to find Mrs. Humphrey standing there, her lips drawn tight. “I’m sure Miss Winter is excited to see the both of you. It would be a shame if you missed out on visiting hour due to engaging in illicit acts in the middle of an audience. Whom, I may add, are here due to health concerns.”

Awkwardly, I peek to the side to see there is a waiting area close by—a busy one at that. Every single person was gawking at us like we were the most interesting display they had ever come across.

“Miss Woods,” Mrs. Humphrey continues. “You might be unaware of this fact, but as Mr. Ledger is the future of our people, interest in his daily activities is higher than that of your average pup.”