Chapter 13: Lonely wolves and murderous plants
Zaire POV
I look at the furniture in my room.
Destroyed. Again.
Splintered wood, overturned shelves, a mattress slashed to ribbons. The walls are claw-marked like something tried to dig its way out. I guess, in a way, something did.
I have a room to myself, which is rare for a second year. Usually, the solitary rooms are for fae, thanks to their affinity for privacy wards and glamours, or for high-ranking students—grade reps, legacies, or the extremely rich who can bribe the administration.
I'm none of those.
I'm a werewolf. A defective one.
My wolf is too big.
Too angry.
It doesn't listen. Not to the Alpha. Not to commands. Not even to me.
I almost killed my Alpha once. Snapped at his throat in a spar. He had to be saved by the rest of the pack and even then, they couldn't calm me. Only a tranq dart took me down.
I remember waking up, cold and alone. My sister—the Alpha's mate—was the only one who pleaded for my life.
They expelled me instead.
With her savings, she sent me here.
Astral Academy. The last stop for the unmanageable. The violent. The lost causes.
Some nights, I wonder if she should've just let them kill me.
I look around the room again. I can't keep living like this. Every few nights, the rage boils over. The transformation hits like a storm and destroys everything.
There's this bumbling, boiling fury inside me. A wolf's need for community. For connection. For someone to belong to.
But every time I try to get close to someone, I feel the tremble in my bones. The claws itching to tear through skin. The breath that comes too fast. I can't stop it.
So I isolate myself. Because it's safer. For everyone.
I leave the room, the door creaking open to the hallway lit only by dying lanterns.
No one stops me. No one ever does. There's no real security in Astral. The school doesn't care what happens after dark. Most students are too dangerous to be policed.
So I walk into the night.
The fog is low and heavy. The cold air slinks around my skin.
I head for the forest.
It's haunted, they say. Cursed, even. But that makes it perfect for me.
The trees groan with the weight of dew, and the grass crunches underfoot.
I have no more spare clothes. No shirts left unshredded.
So I undress.
The night air bites at my bare skin, but I barely feel it. The pull is already there.
Then I shift.
Bones crack. Flesh rearranges. The air around me shudders.
Pain blooms and then recedes, replaced by something primal.
And I'm gone.
My wolf takes over.
Massive. Dark. Silent.
I pad deeper into the woods, my paws sinking into the soft earth.
It's going to be another night sleeping outside.
Alone.
But at least the trees don't flinch when they hear me growl.
At least the wind doesn't run when I bare my teeth.
***
Chapter 13
Zaire POV
I look at the furniture in my room.
Destroyed. Again.
Splintered wood, overturned shelves, a mattress slashed to ribbons. The walls are claw-marked like something tried to dig its way out. I guess, in a way, something did.
I have a room to myself, which is rare for a second year. Usually, the solitary rooms are for fae, thanks to their affinity for privacy wards and glamours, or for high-ranking students—grade reps, legacies, or the extremely rich who can bribe the administration.
I'm none of those.
I'm a werewolf. A defective one.
My pack sent me to Astral Academy to "find a stable path for my career and future."
Which was code for: "You're too volatile to be trusted near anyone."
And they were right.
My wolf is too big.
Too angry.
It doesn't listen. Not to the Alpha. Not to commands. Not even to me.
I almost killed my Alpha once. Snapped at his throat in a spar. He had to be saved by the rest of the pack and even then, they couldn't calm me. Only a tranq dart took me down.
I remember waking up, cold and alone. My sister—the Alpha's mate—was the only one who pleaded for my life.
They expelled me instead.
With her savings, she sent me here.
Astral Academy. The last stop for the unmanageable. The violent. The lost causes.
Some nights, I wonder if she should've just let them kill me.
I look around the room again. I can't keep living like this. Every few nights, the rage boils over. The transformation hits like a storm and destroys everything.
There's this bumbling, boiling fury inside me. A wolf's need for community. For connection. For someone to belong to.
But every time I try to get close to someone, I feel the tremble in my bones. The claws itching to tear through skin. The breath that comes too fast. I can't stop it.
So I isolate myself. Because it's safer. For everyone.
I leave the room, the door creaking open to the hallway lit only by dying lanterns.
No one stops me. No one ever does. There's no real security in Astral. The school doesn't care what happens after dark. Most students are too dangerous to be policed.
So I walk into the night.
The fog is low and heavy. The cold air slinks around my skin.
I head for the forest.
It's haunted, they say. Cursed, even. But that makes it perfect for me.
The trees groan with the weight of dew, and the grass crunches underfoot.
I have no more spare clothes. No more uniforms. No shirts left unshredded.
So I undress.
The night air bites at my bare skin, but I barely feel it. The pull is already there.
Then I shift.
Bones crack. Flesh rearranges. The air around me shudders.
Pain blooms and then recedes, replaced by something primal.
And I'm gone.
My wolf takes over.
Massive. Dark. Silent.
I pad deeper into the woods, my paws sinking into the soft earth.
It's going to be another night sleeping outside.
Alone.
But at least the trees don't flinch when they hear me growl.
At least the wind doesn't run when I bare my teeth.
---
Arabella POV
I hear whimpering. It's distant, but it breaks through my sleep like a thread of dread.
I sit up slowly, careful not to disturb Prince curled next to me.
The sound grows louder.
A dog? Some wild animal?
My eyes widen.
Oh no.
Are those plants about to eat a student?
I throw on a robe and dash outside, barefoot. The night air is sharp against my skin.
What I find nearly stops my heart.
A few feet from the cottage, a massive wolf is wrapped in vines, struggling and snarling, claws tearing into the earth.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop it!!!"
The vines hiss in resistance, wrapping tighter.
"Let him go," I command, stepping closer. The vines hesitate before retreating, slithering back into the woods.
Honestly, I love them. But they're like children with murder instincts.
The wolf pants, tense and watching me.
"Heyyy," I say softly.
It takes a step back, cautious.
"Come on," I urge, padding forward barefoot.
He hesitates, about to leave.
Then stops.
I reach out and run my fingers through his fur. It's impossibly soft.
Blue eyes blink at me.
"I'm sorry. Were you scared?"
The wolf lowers its body and sits, uncertain but no longer aggressive.
I smile gently and continue petting him.
"You poor thing," I murmur.
Slowly, I guide him inside the cottage. The warmth from the fireplace greets us. He enters hesitantly, looking around as if it might all be a trap.
I grab a blanket, laying it down near the fire.
"Here, this is better than the cold dirt, right?"
The wolf circles twice before settling on it. I kneel beside him and stroke his fur again.
He leans into it.
I keep petting.
His breathing evens out.
His eyes flutter closed.
He falls asleep beside the fire, chest rising and falling steadily.
And even though I know better—
Even though he could shift any moment—
I curl up beside him, letting the fire lull me too.