Chapter 70
*Jiselle*
There were eyes on me.
Not the obvious ones–Nate’s fierce, watchful gaze or Eva’s protective glances across the dining hall. These were quieter. More deliberate. The kind you didn’t see, but felt.
The kind that made the back of your neck prickle. That turned every mirror into a threat and every shadow into a whisper. It started two days after the ceremony. After the sigil seared my skin like a warning from the moongoddess. After Bastain screamed at a council elder in front of half the faculty. After Nate refused to leave my side for twenty–four hours straight and Carrow ordered layers of protective magic into our shared room that made even enchanted ink smudge and bleed. At first, I thought I was imagining it.
The way conversations would fizzle the moment I entered a room. The way people would turn slightly, just slightly, to avoid my path. Like I carried something in my aura now–something they didn’t want to breathe in.
Even Eva had grown quieter.
Not distant. Not angry. But wary. Like she was trying not to step too close to a burning wire.
I didn’t blame her.
I felt like a live current. Like there was something under my skin that hummed with a frequency only other wolves could detect. It wasn’t power, exactly. It was something stranger. Like the moon was whispering in a language only I could hear- and I hadn’t yet learned how to translate it.
The worst part?
I couldn’t tell if they feared me… or pitied me.
Maybe both.
That morning, I found Emari leaning against the hallway wall near the back courtyard stairs, arms crossed, one boot pressed against the stone behind her like she’d been waiting for someone. Or maybe like she just couldn’t stand being inside.
We hadn’t really spoken since I saw her with the ceremonial dagger. Since she said that thing about not trusting everyone who pretends to be on your side.
I didn’t expect a warm reunion.
But I didn’t expect her to speak first, either.
“You need to stop walking around like you’re untouchable,” she said as I passed.
I turned. “Excuse me?”
Her eyes were shadowed, serious in a way that unsettled me more than any insult ever had. “This place is a pit, Jiselle. It chews people up. And you-” she tilted her head, assessing. “You’re just shiny enough to draw blood when you break.” I frowned. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” She pushed off the wall. “But I don’t want to be caught in your blast radius when the storm hits.”
Cryptic. Of course. That was her language.
But something in her tone lingered long after she was gone.
Even in class, the instructors were different around me. They didn’t say my name out loud. Didn’t pair me with anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. The new assignments for the Solstice trials had been updated and my name was- strangely–missing from the main board. No one would give me a straight answer.
Only Bastain’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaw told me everything I needed to know: I was being removed. Or protected. Maybe both.
It wasn’t until that night, back in the dorm, that my wolf started growling again.
It wasn’t a loud growl. Not a scream of danger. Just… unease. A soft, low hum in the pit of my belly that made my hands sweat and my instincts sharpen.
I looked around.
Eva was in her bed, laying down–probably pas.
Successfully unlocked!
tinted shadows across our desks and beds. My bag was half–unzipped on the chair. My books stacked neatly.
For room was Quiet. The flickering wall lights cast soft, gold-
And my water bottle sat right where I left it–on the nightstand.
I stared at it.
1/3
Chapter 70
My wolf stirred again.
Don’t.
The word wasn’t spoken, but I heard it all the same. Felt it ripple across my skin.
I stood slowly, like something ancient had taken over my body. Like my instincts knew better than my mind.
I picked up the bottle. Unscrewed the cap.
No scent.
No color.
But something was off.
I padded down the hallway, barefoot and quiet, until I reached the common room where Nate and Ethan were finishing up a late–night strategy session for the Solstice Trials. They looked up the moment I entered.
Nate’s eyes locked on me. “What is it?”
“I need Bastain.”
Five minutes later, we were in his office, the door sealed with three wards and a muting rune.
Bastain took one look at me and didn’t ask questions. He took the bottle, and poured some clear liquid into it that I could only assume was some fort of elixir.
His face changed.
“What is it?” Nate demanded.
“A concentrated paralytic,” Bastain said, each word like ice. “It’s neutral and colorless. It would’ve knocked her unconscious within the hour. She would have been weak first, then numb, then gone.”
Ethan swore so violently it echoed off the walls. Nate didn’t speak. His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might break.
I was too stunned to move.
Someone had tried to poison me.
Bastain turned to me. “Effective immediately, your campus privileges are revoked.”
“What?” I blinked.
“You don’t go anywhere alone. No combat unless I’m supervising. No leaving the dorm after lights–out. You’re to be guarded until the Solstice.”
Great. As if this sexist ass school wasn’t already so much of a prison.
“I’m not a prisoner,” I snapped.
He met my gaze evenly. “You are now.”
***
Nate stayed with me that night.
He didn’t sleep. Didn’t even sit.
He paced the room like a caged predator, his shadows stretching unnaturally far across the walls. Every noise made his eyes flick toward the door. Every creak of the floor made him growl.
And I tried to breathe, but I failed.
Because no matter how many protections they put in place… someone had gotten close enough to try.
Someone wanted me gone. Or a lot of people.
And they weren’t done.
By the time I went back to bed, the room felt different. Colder. Smaller. My side of the bed was warmer than I remembered, like Nate had tucked heat into the sheets just for me.
I pulled the blanket up, trying to chase sleep.
It didn’t come.
At some point, I turned my pillow.
That’s when I found it.
A note.
Folded neatly. Slipped under the pillow like a secret.
There was no scent. No trace of ink. No magic signature.
2/3
Chapter 70
But the handwriting was sharp.
Unfamiliar.
Precise.
It said only six words.
“You should’ve run when Max told you to.”
I stared at it for a long time.
Not blinking.
Not breathing.
Just reading.
Again.
And again.
And again.
3/3
Subscribed
