Gazing up at the gloomy galaxy-painted ceiling of my dorm, I couldn't help but feel that it had lost some of its sparkle. It wasn't quite as thrilling as it had been when I first splashed it across the canvas four years ago.
"Or perhaps—" his light, raspy little voice echoed, "—it's just that it's the middle of the night," I felt a tiny, four-legged furry creature land on my blanketed knees,"—the lights are off—” then scuttle up to the side of my head before settling on my pillow, “—and the room is so dark it feels like something's hiding in every shadow," he scrunched his nose, his whiskers twitching.
It was Apo, my denizen prairie dog. The moonlight streaming through the window above my headboard cast a gentle glow on his soft brown fur and made his beady hazel-green eyes glint.
I turned to him and asked, "Should I repaint it?"
"Jolene hates the stench of oil paint. She’ll gag," he chuckled.
I smiled, glancing across the room at the bunk bed where Jolene and Blanche were sleeping, their backs turned to me. "You’re right," I said, sitting up.
“You could always use acrylic,” he suggested.
Nah, nevermind.
I gazed out the window at the bright, full moon hanging in the sky. In the distance, the Vampire campus was lit up like a carnival. I remembered that vampires could stroll in daylight now, thanks to their magic-imbued talismans, but they still had days when their internal clocks had to be reversed.
My alarm wasn’t set to go off for another two hours.
Since February, I’d been waking up earlier than usual, even though my academic load was pretty light. So, why am I awake now?
“Dreams?” Apo asked, nuzzling into my blanket. I stroked the top of his head.
“None, still.”
I hadn't had a dream since February. It wasn't exactly alarming, just an interesting little mystery.
I threw off the blankets and slipped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. Silently, I slid open the glass door to the balcony and breathed in the chilly night air. The sharp scent of cedar trees filled my nostrils, coming from Hunter’s Forest—the training grounds for Warlocks and the border between Warlock and Werewolf Campus.
Was the scent always this strong?
The woody aroma hit me like a wave, sharp and invigorating, reminiscent of freshly-cut lumber or sawdust. There was also a faint sweetness in the air, like a hint of honey or wildflowers, barely noticeable but definitely there. And then there was another smell—something familiar yet out of place. I craned my neck, peering back into my workspace. Turpentine? I used it to scrub oil paint off my brushes, but everything was in its place—the brushes were neatly arranged, and the glass bottle of turpentine was tightly sealed.
I quietly shut the balcony door, climbed over the railing, and leaped off the dorm building. I touched down on the stone floor, instantly feeling the icy chill seeping through my underfoot. The cold was so intense it was like the floor itself had a vendetta against warmth. I quickly brushed it off and made my way across the pathway, heading straight, down west to Hunter’s Forest. As I approached the cluster of trees, I came to an abrupt halt. Hunter’s Forest was protected by a Ward Enchantment, meticulously renewed by Principal Caster himself. This enchantment was designed to prevent anyone from entering unless they had explicit permission or part of a scheduled class activity. Fortunately, I managed to overhear one of Jairen’s conversations with his friends during a joint class activity we had here four years ago. He let slip some crucial details about sneaking into Hunter’s Forest at night without tripping the alarms or getting caught.
This wasn’t the first time I’d ventured in here without permission. Hunter’s Forest seemed to share some of the same elements as the Shaded Forest at my family’s estate, and walking through these woods always took me back to Raiver. I could still remember how he had guided me home that night—my only clear memory of him. Every time the gloom creeps into my dorm room and weighs me down, I find myself drawn back here, to the forest where those memories come alive.
I raised my fist and pointed it at the gate’s frame. The ward enchantment traced the outline of a regular estate gate—something you couldn’t see with the naked eye but revealed itself under ultraviolet light. I took a deep breath, the woody, sweet scent of turpentine filling my senses. As I had done countless times before, I visualized the gate in my mind: its robust structure, the thick, tall, rails hovering a few inches off the ground, hefty but not unmanageable. I called out the enchantment in a soft whisper, willing it to slowly reveal itself. Perhaps it was because I had been doing this for years, but the response came almost instantly. The frame of the gate emerged from the darkness, bathed in a gentle, jaded glow that outlined its edges.
I gave a gentle push with my fist, barely touching it. A tingling sensation raced across my knuckles, and a wave of air surged forward, pushing against the frame and forming a round cavity in its surface that led straight into Hunter’s Forest. I lifted the hem of my nightgown and stepped through the newly-formed passage and onto the other side. As soon as my feet hit the soft earth of Hunter's Forest, I paused for a beat, letting my senses take in the surroundings. I carefully gauged if the atmosphere had shifted, and a grin spread across my face when I detected no change. I’m pretty confident in my magical skills, but it never hurts to be cautious. After all, you can never be too sure that even the safest, most sacred grounds won’t turn against you when you least expect it.
Crumpled leaves, scattered pebbles, and warm, earthly ground pressed against the pad of my foot, making me feel oddly invigorated. The air here, usually warmer than the rest of the campus, tonight felt as if summer had never left. I began to walk, not a natural night owl by any means, but after roaming Hunter’s Forest since year 7, I knew this place like the back of my hand. I veered off the path and wove through the labyrinth of trees, letting my hand brush against each rough bark, feeling their heartbeat pulse beneath my fingers. The scent of cedar grew sharper and more intense as I moved deeper into the forest.
“Alora, sister of Aldea, daughter of Aluini, Guardian Maid of Hunter’s Forest,” I murmured, letting the words flow in a melodious chant. As if in response to my invocation, a whisper of wind stirred around me, and the trees seemed to sway with glee, their leaves fluttering down in a welcoming cascade, following my every step like a gentle embrace. The rustling leaves carried my words softly through the air. “Elter, brother of Emeri, son of Ekkel, Guardian Groom of Beasts,” I continued. From the distance, the soothing hoot of an owl punctured the silence, its calls rhythmically echoing through the night. Birds chirped and fluttered their wings, while crickets began their nightly serenade. To the west, the splashing of the pond and the croaking of frogs added a symphonic backdrop. To the east, the soft scurrying footsteps and the rustling branches signaled the presence of nocturnal creatures climbing through the undergrowth.
I was welcomed back, just as I always had been. It was like slipping into a well-worn cloak of familiarity and comfort. But it’s crucial to note, and I mean really crucial, that I give a nod of respect to the guardians of Hunter’s Forest. Sure, I might have seized control of the ward enchantment—no small feat, I’ll admit—but I’d be treading a very thin line if I didn’t acknowledge the authority of the guardians who rule and protect these ancient, shadowy woods. They have their own rules and pecking order, and if I ignored that—which I’ve already crossed just by stepping in here without permission, by the way—it wouldn't be long before their displeasure came knocking, and believe me, their form of “knocking” is far from polite.
My Grammy, Lorace, taught me that.
As I ventured further into the heart of the forest, the symphony of rustling leaves, whispers of the wind, and the chatter of countless woodland creatures continued in chorus. Amid this natural orchestra, a distant wolf’s howl pierced through the night, intertwining with the forest’s sounds in an strangely harmonious, blend.
"Well, that’s new," I muttered to myself, taking in the unusual yet strangely fitting melody.
The world seemed to hold its breath. The noise died away like a whisper lost in the wind. I strained my ears, but there was only silence—no shuffling footsteps, no rustling leaves. I pressed on, my heart pounding in sync with each step, and made my way toward Hunter’s Circle, the tension thick in the air.
At the heart of the forest is Hunter’s Circle, a round clearing, its land dipping slightly lower than the surrounding terrain, resembling a giant bowl carved by nature itself. Tall trees bordered the edges, their trunks leaning inward to form a natural canopy. Moonlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the clearing, making it look like something out of a dream. At the very center of this hollow lay a flat, round slab of concrete, its surface worn smooth by time. Surrounding it in a perfect circle were twelve narrow, six-foot-tall stones, each one bearing the name of an ancient warlock carved into its surface.
Descending the gently sloping, hollowed-out ground, I tried to navigate the uneven terrain with all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates. The ground, despite not being wet, had this weirdly slick, polished quality that felt like someone had buffed it to a mirror shine just for kicks. Every step made my foot feel like it was being tickled by invisible feathers, and I couldn’t help but squirm and let out a giggle. I finally reached the circle, and right in my path was Valteron Bandkarsen’s stone. The potent aroma of cedar and turpentine had vanished, leaving only the familiar scent of the earth and trees of Hunter's Forest.
“Keilia, sister of Krinia, daughter of Kolai, Guardian of Guardians,” I announced, and a shimmering flicker of light ignited at the very heart of the stone circle. The light pulsed rhythmically, like the thrum of a heartbeat, flaring and dimming in a mesmerizing dance until it expanded into a radiant figure. Hovering gracefully above the concrete floor was a woman whose skin was as pure and white as freshly fallen snow, glowing with a soft, ethereal shade of pale blue. Her long golden hair cascaded in flowing waves, while her satin white gown seemed to ripple and sway with a fluid grace, as though she were gliding through an underwater realm. With a serene, almost playful expression, she turned towards me and offered a gentle wave.
“Hi, Keilia,” I greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible. She didn’t respond with words, but her light flared brighter, like she was turning up the volume on her silent reply.
That was a bit unusual.
With a deliberate, graceful motion, she waved her hand in a sweeping arc, signaling me to come closer.
“I’ll just be hanging out here for a bit,” I said, starting to walk toward her.
She smiled, her aquamarine eyes shimmering softly from afar. But there was something off about her expression—she seemed unsettled, making subtle, almost imperceptible shifts as if she were trying to adjust to some invisible rhythm.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I finally reached her. She hovered a few inches above the ground, so I had to tilt my head back to meet her gaze. “What’s up?” I asked again, but she remained silent.
Her head tilted and swayed as though she were listening to a melody I couldn’t quite catch. She lowered herself gracefully until she was eye-level with me. Her round, youthful eyes locked onto mine with a look that was both intense and gentle. With a delicate sweep, she brushed the back of her fingers against my cheek and offered me a soft, reassuring smile.
Is something going on?
Keilia held that intense, focused expression for a heartbeat longer before opening her mouth to speak. But before she could say a word, another howl pierced the night.It wasn't a wolf this time, but a sharp, eerie yelp from a fox—high-pitched and unnerving. The sound came from behind us. Keilia’s entire body tensed, twisting around with her face set in a fierce, protective glare towards the source of the howl. I tried to follow her gaze, but she grabbed my shoulders with a firm grip and spun me to face her. Her eyes were serious as she slowly shook her head and with a quick flick, she spun her arms around and danced off into thin air like she was auditioning for "So You Think You Can Disappear." Well, that was a whole lot of drama wrapped in a disappearing act.
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I let out a long, weary sigh, feeling the weight of the question hanging in the air: Should I be worried? Great, it was probably just another skirmish between the red foxes and the black foxes—one of those age-old feuds that seemed destined to drag on forever. When, oh when, would it ever come to an end?
I stood there, planted firmly in the centerfold, trying to shake off the curiosity. My gaze drifted forward, beyond the clearing, where the forest stretched on toward the Werewolf Grounds, known as Evergrass Woods. The silence wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, and for a moment, I savored the peace. I thought about sitting down, but that seemed like a risky move; the last time I did that, I’d ended up taking an unplanned nap here, only to be rescued by Kaede the next morning. Lucky for me, I didn’t get caught.
I felt the unmistakable presence of Apo materialize right beside my foot. “Are you finally done wandering around?” he asked, standing up on his hind legs with an air of mild exasperation. “It’s been a whole hour.”
“Were you tailing me the whole time?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up.
“Only just now,” Apo huffed, giving a dramatic shiver. “I nearly had a heart attack when she appeared at the window. Does she have to be so blue? It's like staring into the deep end of a pool.”
“She’s not that blue,” I countered. “You’re just—well, your eyes are different.”
Before Apo could retort, a sudden rustling came from the woods, and we both snapped our heads to look. I nearly dropped my jaw when the last person I expected to see emerged from the trees.
It was Raiver.
Oh, for the love of all things mythical, you’ve got to be kidding me.
I felt Apo suddenly jolt, like he’d seen a ghost or, more likely, a particularly terrifying sock puppet. He fumbled for the hem of my nightgown with all the grace of a caffeinated squirrel. His tiny claws clung to the fabric, climbing up until he was nestled right between my shoulder and the back of my neck, hidden in the mess of my hair. In that moment, I was profoundly grateful that I had always resisted my mother’s attempts to trim or style my hair once it grew past my hips. Otherwise, I’d be facing a full-blown wardrobe malfunction right now. Clad in nothing but a long, flowy, satin, sleeveless nightgown—yes, the kind that shows off every little detail through the fabric, so yes, my nippies were faintly visible through the material, but my long hair fell in rich, dark waves down my chest, providing a semblance of modesty.
Sometimes, trusting your instincts about hair is not just a choice, it’s a survival skill.
I couldn’t drag my gaze away from him, even though I knew it was rude to stare.
There he was, standing at the far end of the circle, his torso was open to the chill of the breeze, as if he were daring the cool air to touch him. His trousers hung loosely from his hips, a hoodie hanging off his hand and his bare feet rested on the ground with a casual ease.
My heart started to thump like a war drum.
I couldn’t prise my eyes away from him, even knowing all too well how rude it is to stare. He stood at the other end of the circle, shirtless, again, and with only his trousers on. His feet were bare and he had a hoodie slung on his hand like a drunk. My heart began to beat fast.
Chill out, Legacie, he’s just an average, run-of-the-mill, royal alpha blood werewolf guy.
I caught his eyes twinkling like dark gold coins under the moonlight. He was staring at me so hard, I half expected him to ask for my autograph. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d walked in on some kind of private moment—was this his version of a ‘happy hour,’ or had I just interrupted something that was meant to be kept hidden? Claude once told me that werewolves head into Evergrass Woods and traipse through Hunter’s Forest after dark, but only with a special pass to do some kind of . . . Happy Howling? Is that just a fancy way of saying letting all their anger and frustration out with a mighty scream?
Was he the one who made that eerie howling sound earlier, right before everything fell into silence? Now that I think about it, I’ve never actually heard him howl before.
What would that even sound like?
“What are you doing here?” Raiver's voice boomed like a thunderstorm in a cathedral, regal and masculine, with just enough growl to make me reconsider all my life choices. I nearly turned my pants into a modern art piece.
I froze in place, barely daring to breathe, Apo, who had already been nestled in the safety of my neck and hair, seemed to burrow in even deeper, like he was trying to become a permanent part of my anatomy. “What now, Cici?” he whispered, his voice trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. “Some wolves, you know, they hunt prey like us…” his words trailed off, each syllable a testament to his growing anxiety.
Raiver spoke directly to me. To me! Why on earth does he look so ticked off?
Did I really interrupt some top-secret Howling Club meeting or something?
“I’m asking you a question… It’s four at the earliest, so why are you wandering out of your dormitory?” His voice was like a cracked whip, demanding an answer I had no idea how to give.
What in the name of Valduciel Arkcwar was I supposed to do now?
Should I just open a portal and vanish into thin air? Or break into a dance number like Keilia— after all, he doesn’t really know me. I could project a guardian’s aura and blend in as a guardian of the forest with a few well-practiced tricks. “Don’t even think about it,” Apo hissed urgently in my ear. “I know what you’re plotting, and we do NOT deceive in the name of our guardians.”
Oh, come on!
Wait—I've got it!
“Again, what are you doing at this hour… student,” he demanded, a hint of impatience threading through his voice. Ah crap. He found out.
I took a careful step back, but kept my eyes locked on Raiver, whose intense stare felt like an electric jolt racing through my brain. I tried to shift my gaze downward, aiming for that “sleepwalking” look that I hoped might fool him.
“Do you have permission to be here?”
Of course I don’t, but do I look like someone who’s about to admit that? Nope.
Was there a chance he’d fall for my sleepwalking charade? Would he buy it?
“We’re so doomed, Cici,” Apo muttered, his voice trembling.
I didn’t blink. Instead, I took another cautious step back, letting my arms fall naturally to my sides.
“I’m not asking twice,” he growled, taking a menacing step closer.
From the darkened recesses, an ashen brown werewolf—nearly my height. He shifted into his human form, clad only in flesh-toned compression shorts. I instantly recognized him as Nyle, Raiver’s Beta Leader in his Fellowship.
"Nyle," Raiver said without shifting his gaze from me, as if Nyle were little more than a shadow in his periphery. "Give me your report," he ordered with an authoritative edge.
Nyle edged closer and leaned in to whisper something into Raiver’s ear. It seemed to take forever, and if Raiver hadn’t been staring right at me with a look that could pierce steel, I might’ve had a chance to slip away unnoticed.
When Nyle finally drew back, Raiver gave a curt nod. “Good. Gather Wintercrown and escort them back to Main,” he instructed. And then, finally, Nyle’s gaze shifted to me. “You’re free to leave, Nyle,” Raiver added, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Nyle’s eyes widened. “Uh, Captain?” he murmured, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. Raiver tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening. “Who’s this? Is she a student? What’s she doing here?” Nyle’s questions tumbled out in a rapid-fire of confusion.
Raiver squinted at the figure in front of him, a hint of impatience in his voice. “I’m guessing she’s a Warlock. She’s been standing there for minutes now, and she hasn’t said a word or answered any of my queries,” Raiver said with a shrug.
Nyle’s brows knitted together in a puzzled frown. “Do you think she might be one of those elusive guardians-in-disguise? Or perhaps a scout prefect?” He glanced around with a hint of worry in his voice. “Should we let Principal Caster know about this?”
The tension in the room thickened, and an uneasy silence fell. Oh no, this could mean trouble. Not that crankypants.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Raiver said, his voice trailing off as he took in my entire appearance with a lingering glance. “She’s wearing a nightgown.”
I felt a shiver snake up my spine like it was auditioning for a horror flick. My heart pounded in my chest, a wild, erratic drumbeat that seemed determined to escape. A queasy churn roiled in my lower abdomen, and I thought to myself, Is it really time to be this hungry? I had a bad feeling I might be about to make a mess of things. “Please don’t,” Apo whispered.
“Ray, do you think she’s lost? Or maybe sleepwalking?” Nyle’s voice was laced with worry.
“Sleepwalking?” Raiver’s gaze shifted, curiosity sparking in his eyes as his eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Yes, look at her. She’s in her nightgown, barefoot, and she looks like she’s just stumbled out of bed,” Nyle pointed out.
Raiver’’s expression hardened with a protective resolve. “Then turn your gaze away,” he instructed softly, his tone carrying a firmness that left no room for disagreement.
Nyle shot a quick glance downward, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. “Of course.”
“Do you really think she’s sleepwalking?” the question hung in the air, heavy with curiosity.
Why would I lie?
I spun my head first to the right, then to the left, and finally pivoted my entire body back toward where I’d come from.
“I’d say it’s pretty normal, Cap. I’ve heard that a few Warlocks have this habit where they end up in all sorts of weird spots.”
“Should we be worried?”
“Nah, not really. Though a buddy of mine once woke up in the middle of Mortallum, right in the Sahara Desert.”
I managed to stifle a chuckle, though it was a close call. I recognized that Warlock—he was a familiar face from Jairen’s Year. I began to retrace my steps, moving with an easy, deliberate pace. But every now and then, I couldn’t help but add a slight, rhythmic sway to my stride, reminiscent of my younger brother’s sleepwalking antics.
Nyle’s voice carried through the trees like a low rumble of thunder. “Is she gonna be okay? How’s she supposed to find her way back?”
I’d slipped back into the shadowy embrace of the west Hunter’s wood, my magic casting a veil of silence that let me hear every word as far as here.
Raiver’s tone was calm but firm. “She’ll be fine. We’ll leave her in the care of their guardians.”
“She doesn’t exactly seem like she’s on friendly terms with guardians.”
I wanted to shout out in protest, but I was already slipping back into the labyrinth of tangled trees. I decided to finally sever the enchantment that had been masking my presence, and their voices faded away into the distance. Once I was sure I was out of their sight, I bolted towards the gates and the magic I had placed upon it earlier flickered to life, opening for me to slip through. I landed on the other side of the pathway, the world outside the forest feeling strangely distant.
With a swift motion, I sliced the air with my magic, erasing any trace of my scent, footprints, and handprints. I hurried back to the dorm building, the ivy plants rustling softly in the breeze as I raised my arm. They responded to my silent command, lifting me gently up to my dorm room balcony. I carefully slid the door open, and Apo leaped off my shoulder, landing gracefully on the bed. I glanced at my bedside clock—still a few minutes before my alarm would blare me into consciousness. I reached for my towel and headed toward the bathroom, but stopped dead in my tracks. There, perched ominously on the balcony rail, was a red, shadowy figure. Its eyes glowed like smoldering embers in the faint morning light.
My heart hammered in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to echo louder with each thud, even more intense than the encounter with Raiver.
"Y-y-yes? Need something?" I stuttered, trying not to blink as I stared into those beady red eyes that looked like they could win a staring contest with a statue.
The door exploded off its hinges with a thunderous bang, sending my roommates leaping from their beds like startled cats. Jairen stood framed in our doorway, his eyes blazing with an intense, unyielding resolve. “MARCHAGO!” he bellowed, his voice resonating like a war cry through the corridor. A blinding beam of green light burst forth from his scythe, slicing through the balcony door and cutting a path straight to the red figure perched on the rail, lighting up the night like a comet. The red shadow, caught in the searing brilliance, writhed and twisted in a frantic, desperate dance before hurling over the edge of the balcony. Without hesitation, Jairen hurled himself into the void after it, vanishing into the darkness below.
Jolene and Blanche erupted into piercing shrieks, their beds creaking violently as they bolted upright. In a flash, they pressed their backs against the walls, their eyes wide with fear and confusion, while their denizens scrambled to offer help. The commotion drew the other girls from our floor, who burst into the room with frantic urgency.
I dashed out to the wreckage of our balcony, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. My eyes darted across the campus, desperately searching for any sign of Jairen or that elusive red shadow. Apo, as if sensing the gravity of the situation, landed squarely on top of my head, his gaze, I assume, was just as intense as mine.
The once-bustling scene had fallen eerily silent, broken only by the distant echoes of my friends' terrified murmurs. The ominous truth struck me hard—whatever had happened, they were gone.