Elara's POV-Present day.

My phone has been vibrating for the past ten minutes, buzzing against the nightstand like it's personally offended. I already know who it is, because only one person calls this early, and only one person uses anger as a ringtone.

When I finally answer, my brother doesn't bother with hello.

"You went to the ball."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Good morning to you too, Claude."

"Don't 'good morning' me, Elara. You promised. You said you'd keep your head down, stay invisible..."

"I did stay invisible," I interrupt quickly, forcing a calm I don't feel. "No one knows it was me."

There's a pause. I can practically hear him grinding his teeth on the other end. "You think hiding behind a silver mask counts as invisible? Everyone's talking about the girl who danced with Alpha Cassian Veyron."

"Exactly," I say softly. "They're talking about the girl in the mask. Not me."

Silence again. A heavy one this time.

He sighs, that long, tired kind that makes guilt crawl up my throat. "Elara, do you even realize what could happen if they find out who you are?"

"I know," I whisper. "And I'm being careful. No one saw me leave. My roommate hasn't arrived yet. I'm fine."

"Fine," he repeats, voice low. "That's what you said before everything went to hell last time."

That stings. I bite my lip, but I don't answer. There's nothing I can say that will make him trust me again, not after last time.

After a moment, his voice softens. "Just... promise me you'll stay out of trouble now. Please, El."

I clutch my blanket, staring at the ceiling. "I promise."

A lie.

A necessary one.

When I hang up, the quiet of my room feels heavier. The sunlight through the window is too bright, my reflection in the mirror too flushed. My hands still remember the warmth of his-Alpha Cassian's-when we danced.

I shouldn't even think about it. I shouldn't want to.

But the memory plays on loop anyway: the way he looked at me like he could see through the mask, the way the world went still when he said my name, no, when he said nothing at all, just stared.

The girl in the silver mask might've been a rumor to everyone else.

But to me, she felt real. Alive for the first time in years.

          *********************

Riven's Pov.

When unusual things happen, it's wise to dig up the roots.

Lucien's words, not mine. He's the one who believes everything has a reason, that if you dig deep enough, you'll find order in the mess.

I don't believe in order.

I believe in punishment.

The boy kneels before us now, shaking, blood magic smeared up his forearms like casual paint. The scent burns in my nose, iron and fear. Stupid. Reckless.

He tried to tamper with the wards during the ball. Thought he could summon something strong enough to make a joke of us.

Now he's about to learn what exposure really means.

Lucien sits across from him, one ankle resting over his knee, arms folded. Calm. Watching. His EarPods are in, music humming faintly, but I know he's listening to every word spoken in this room.

Cassian leans against the wall, that damned grin carved across his face like he's watching a show instead of an interrogation.

The boy stammers, "I... I didn't mean anything, I swear..."

"Don't lie to me."

My voice comes out low, dangerous. The kind of tone that makes even his breath hesitate.

He flinches, eyes darting between us. "I just... I wanted to see what makes you three so different..."

My fist slams into his jaw before he can finish. He hits the ground hard, coughing blood.

Cassian laughs softly. "That's one way to get him to the point."

"Shut up," I growl, grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him back up. "You wanted to play with blood? Fine. Let's see what it costs."

His pulse races so fast I can almost hear it over the silence. The smell makes Cassian tilt his head, interest flickering in his crimson eyes.

Lucien doesn't move. Just watches. The flicker of candlelight catches his eyes, calm, calculating, unreadable.

"Blood magic disrupts balance," he says evenly. "He meddled with energy that wasn't his. The backlash explains the spike we felt last night."

I tighten my grip. "You're saying he caused it?"

"I'm saying he tried to," Lucien answers. "I did my diggings and this bastard is the one that tried to disrupt our minds."

Cassian chuckles. "How poetic. The boy calls on darkness and finds something brighter instead."

The kid's whimpering now, tears streaking through the grime. "Please. I didn't know it would..."

Cassian moves in a blur. One second he's leaning casually; the next he's behind the boy, hand clamped around his throat.

"You didn't know?" His tone is sweet, mocking. "Curiosity's a funny thing. Do you have your answers now, curious little one?"

The boy chokes, shaking. Cassian leans closer, releasing his fangs slowly until they graze skin, not biting yet, just tracing.

"Tell me," he murmurs, voice almost tender, "what did you see when you looked at us?"

"Monsters," the boy gasps.

Cassian's smile widens. "Good. At least you're not blind."

I take a step forward. "Cassian."

He doesn't look back.

"What? He already knows. Might as well make it memorable."

Lucien sighs, quietly like he already knows what Cassian would do next. "Don't make a mess."

Cassian glances at me over his shoulder, fangs glinting. "Do you want a taste, brother?"

My jaw tightens. I turn to Lucien, who looks absolutely unamused. "That bastard can't control his thirst."

Cassian winks. "Control is boring."

Then he bites. Quiet and sharp.

The boy jerks once, twice, and then goes still. Cassian doesn't drain him fast; he draws it out, a predator savoring his prey.

The color drains from the kid's face until he's pale as chalk, heartbeat faltering, gone.

When Cassian finally lets go, the body drops with a dull thud.

The room goes silent. Even the candlelight seems afraid to flicker.

Lucien removes an earbud. "Satisfied?"

Cassian licks a trace of blood from his lip, unbothered. "Not really. He tasted like regret."

I exhale slowly, trying to smother the burn in my chest. Rage. Hunger. Guilt. They all sound the same when you've lived too long with a curse.

Lucien stands, smooth as ever. "Dispose of him before sunrise. We don't need rumors."

Cassian yawns. "Always so practical."

Lucien's gaze hardens. "Always necessary."

Cassian stretches lazily and strolls toward the door. "You know what I think?"

"What?" I mutter.

He glances back, that infuriating grin still there. "That you two should loosen up a bit. You don't want to leave this world in regret of how you could have lived, you know?"

Then he vanishes before I can respond.

Lucien lingers for a moment, studying the corpse for a minute. Then he looks at me. "Live a little?"

I don't answer. Because the truth is, my way of surviving this curse is through aggression. Living a little would mean, allowing the curse overwhelm me.

And I'd rather lay down my life than be a slave to this curse.  

Elara's Pov.

If peace had a personality, it would be the quiet hum of my phone screen.

I scroll aimlessly, pretending to read, pretending I'm not replaying every second of the ball in my head.

Cassian's hand.

His heartbeat.

That look that felt like a secret I wasn't meant to know.

I shake the thought away and swipe to the next post on WolfNet, nothing but glittering selfies from other girls at Lunacrest. Perfect smiles, perfect marks, perfect wolves. My chest tightens.

Then my door bursts open.

"Elara! Tell me you're not planning to spend the night hiding in here!"

Tessa's voice hits like sunlight. She's my new roommate, curly red hair, loud laugh, more energy than five full moons combined.

I blink at her. "I'm resting."

She stares at my pajamas like they've offended her. "Resting? On combat night?"

"Combat night?" I echo.

She drops her bag dramatically. "Don't tell me you don't know. The Alpha training trials? They're tonight at the field. Only the strongest compete, but the whole academy watches. It's like..." she waves her hands, searching for the word.

"Sounds violent," I interrupt before she can finish.

"It is!" she says brightly. "And we're going."

I groan, sinking deeper into my sheets. "Pass."

"Oh no, no, no." She crosses the room, snatches my phone, and tosses it onto the dresser. "You're coming. You've been acting all ghostly since I got here. You need to exist again."

"I am existing," I mutter. "Quietly."

Tessa opens my closet, muttering to herself. "Quietly gets you nowhere at Lunacrest."

Clothes fly. A shirt. A skirt. A sparkly something I don't even recognize.

Then she gasps. "Found it!"

She turns, triumphant, holding up a black crop top and a tiny pleated skirt. "Perfect."

I stare. "That's not clothing. That's a suggestion."

"Exactly! It suggests confidence." She grins. "Trust me, combat nights are more about who's watching than who's fighting."

"I don't want anyone watching."

"Too late." She thrusts the outfit at me. "You'll thank me when you catch an important person's eye."

I roll my eyes but take the clothes anyway. There's no arguing with Tessa.

Ten minutes later, I'm standing in front of the mirror, trying not to die of embarrassment.

The skirt is short. The top is shorter. My hair falls in loose waves down my shoulders, my lips tinted rose from Tessa's insistence that 'a little gloss never hurt anyone.' I hardly recognize the girl staring back.

"You look..." Tessa whistles, "...absolutely stunning, girl."

"I look like I lost a fight with a tailor."

She laughs, looping her arm through mine. "Come on, Miss Modest. Let's go before you change your mind."

             ********************

The field hums with energy.

Bright lights circle the perimeter, illuminating the crowd. Students fill the stands, wolves from every pack, voices rising in excitement. The air smells of pine, sweat, and strength.

I've never felt anything like it, raw power crackling in the grass, vibrating under my skin.

Tessa drags me to the front, near the edge of the field. "Best view in the house," she says.

I tug at my skirt. "Best chance of dying if someone throws a punch this way."

"Relax," she giggles. "They won't hit the spectators... probably."

The alphas in the ring stretch and spar, muscles glinting beneath the moonlight. Dominance rolls off them in waves, intoxicating and terrifying. Girls cheer. Boys snarl. The whole academy feels alive.

For a moment, I forget to be small. I even laugh when Tessa elbows me, pointing out some Beta tripping over his own boots.

That's when I feel it, eyes on me.

I glance up.

Across the field, a group of Alpha boys lounge near the fence. One of them, tall and smug, grins when our gazes meet. His aura crackles gold, the mark of a strong bloodline.

He saunters closer.

"Oh no," I whisper.

Tessa smirks. "Oh yes."

He stops in front of me, all confidence and arrogance. "Haven't seen you around before," he says, voice dripping charm. "You new?"

"Something like that."

He looks me over, slowly, deliberately. "You don't smell like any pack I know."

I bristle. "Maybe because you don't know enough."

His grin widens. "Feisty. I like that."

Tessa leans toward me. "That's Kade Stormbourne," she whispers. "Alpha heir. Thinks the moon shines out of his..."

"Got it," I mutter before she can finish.

Kade chuckles. "Why don't you tell me your name, mystery girl?"

"Why don't you guess?"

He steps closer, invading my space. The air shifts, too thick. "I'd rather taste it."

My pulse jumps. "Excuse me?"

His fingers brush my wrist, too fast, too bold. "Don't play shy now. You wore the outfit; you knew what it would do."

Anger sparks in my chest. I pull back, voice sharp. "Back off."

He laughs, low and amused, not taking me seriously. "Come on, don't be like that."

He reaches again.

This time I slap his hand away.

The laughter dies. His eyes darken. Around us, a few students glance over, sensing tension.

Tessa mutters, "Oh no. Elara, maybe we should..."

A shadow falls across us.

"Kade," a familiar voice says, smooth and cold. "Is there a reason you're harassing my sister?"

My breath freezes.

Claude.

He stands a few feet away, expression cold and blank, and he's not alone.

Behind him are the triplets.

Alpha Lucien's calm presence hits first, dark suit, eyes that scans the entire field in a second. Alpha Riven beside him radiates barely leashed fury, his power humming against the night. And Alpha Cassian-moon help me-Alpha Cassian's gaze lands right on me.

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then Kade stammers, "I... I didn't realize..."

"Clearly." Claude steps between us, his aura flaring Beta-strong. "Apologize."

Kade swallows. "I didn't mean any disrespect."

"I didn't ask what you meant." Claude's tone is pure command. "Apologize."

Kade looks at me. "Sorry," he mutters.

"Accepted," I say quickly, though my voice shakes.

Claude doesn't move until Kade retreats into the crowd. Only then does he turn on me. "What are you wearing?"

I wince. "Clothes?"

"Barely."

Tessa clears her throat. "I'll just... go check the field lines." And flees.

Lucien's eyes flick between me and my brother, analytical. "Your sister?" he asks, voice quiet but cutting.

Claude exhales through his nose. "Elara, meet the Veyron brothers. Lucien, Riven, Cassian."

I nod stiffly, pulse hammering. "Hi."

Alpha Riven doesn't respond, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the sparring Alphas like I'm air.

Alpha Lucien studies me, his expression remains blank. "Interesting."

Alpha Cassian, oh gods, Cassian's gaze trails from my face down to my bare legs, lingering just long enough for heat to creep up my neck. His mouth tilts into a grin.

I mange to lift my eyes to his, oh I wish I didn't. Those crimson eyes lock on mine. And for a second, something flashes there. Lust? Curiosity?

I don't have time to process. My throat goes dry. "If you'll excuse me..."

Claude's still scolding, "Elara, we'll talk about this..."

But I'm already backing away. "Later. Promise."

I turn, practically running for the path back to the dorms. I can feel Alpha Cassian's eyes on me as I go, that same charged awareness sparking between us again.

When I finally reach the shadows beyond the field, I breathe out shakily, pressing a hand to my chest.

Nothing.

No heartbeat echo this time.

I should be glad but I can't shake off the nudge in my chest.

I'm falling for him.

But Cassian Veyron is the last person I should want.  

Claude's POV.

The door barely clicks shut behind me before Anastasia's hands are on me.

It's been less than ten minutes since we slipped into the hidden room near the library, the one students pretend they don't know about, and she's already kissing me like she's been starved for days.

Her lips trail down my jaw, her fingers locking in my shirt, pulling me closer, demanding.

Normally, I'd respond instantly.

Normally, I'd lift her onto the desk and make her forget her own name.

But tonight...

Tonight my blood is boiling for a different reason.

"Claude," she breathes against my neck, lips warm, needy. "You're tense."

I don't answer. I can't. My mind is miles away, still back on the field, replaying the moment I wish I could erase.

Elara.

Standing there in that ridiculous scrap of a skirt.

Looking small. Unprepared. Entirely too visible.

And the damn Veyron triplets, especially Cassian, looking at her like she was something carved for their hands alone.

I grind my teeth.

Cassian's gaze wasn't casual. It wasn't friendly or curious.

It was hungry.

I felt it before I saw it, that shift in the air, the flare of his aura, the way his eyes dipped slowly down my sister's legs and up again, lazy, possessive, like he already knew how she tasted.

A growl builds in my throat at the memory.

Anastasia kisses me harder, sliding her arms around my neck. "Claude... talk to me."

But I can't talk. Because if I open my mouth, I'll say the truth:

Cassian Veyron looked at my sister like she was marked.

And no one, absolutely no one, should look at her like that.

Least of all him.

Anastasia presses against me, chest to chest, heat rolling off her in waves. She's breathing faster now, little uneven puffs, her skin flushed.

I finally look down, and she's already unbuttoning the top of her blouse with trembling fingers.

"Anastasia," I say sharply, catching her wrists.

She freezes.

Her eyes lift to mine, dark, unfocused. There's a glitter in them tonight, a feverish spark that wasn't there earlier. Her pulse flutters where I'm holding her.

Something is wrong.

Something is... off.

And I know exactly what it is.

I smelled it the moment she touched me.

But I'm not ready to deal with that too.

"Not tonight," I mutter.

She stiffens, hurt flashing across her face. "You're pushing me away?"

"It's not that."

"Then what?" She steps closer again, almost desperate. "You can't stand here with your jaw clenched and pretend you don't want me."

"It's not about wanting," I say quietly. "You're... not thinking straight."

Her breath shudders. "What if I don't want to think straight?"

I shut my eyes.

Moon above.

She presses her forehead to my chest, fingers curling around the fabric of my shirt. "Claude... please. I've been trying to get your attention since we got here. You're barely even touching me."

"Because something's wrong."

"Wrong?" She laughs breathlessly, but it's not amused, it's shaky. "There's nothing wrong. I just... I just need you."

Her voice cracks slightly.

My eyes widen.

Yeah.

There it is.

The slip.

I gently lift her face. Her pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed like she's been running, lips red from kissing me too long. She's trembling, but not from fear.

"Anastasia."

My voice softens. "You're burning up."

She swallows. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

She flinches, barely, but enough.

Then she says something that knocks the air out of my chest:

"Claude... don't leave me like this."

I curse under my breath.

Moon help me.

She's not thinking like herself. She's not speaking like herself. Her hands are slipping under my shirt with shaky determination, her breath hitching like she's fighting her own body and losing.

I grab her wrists again, not hard, just firm.

"Stop," I say, sharper than I intend. "You're in heat."

She goes still.

Her eyes flutter, as if the words pull a string inside her.

Heat.

She doesn't deny it. She doesn't even breathe.

Then, in a whisper that sends fire straight through my bones, she says:

"You think I don't know that?"

My entire body tenses.

She steps closer, lips brushing my jaw. "You're the only one I want right now. The only one who can help me. So stop pretending you don't feel anything."

I do feel something, everything, in fact, but I'm not thinking about me.

I'm thinking about Elara.

Standing there.

All eyes on her.

Cassian's eyes on her.

Anastasia kisses my throat, dragging me back to the present with a soft moan.

"Claude... please."

I almost break.

But she looks up at me, and something in me clicks sharply into place.

She's shaking. Not seducing. Not teasing.

This is need.

Instinct.

Uncontrolled.

And she's trying to fight it alone.

I release a slow breath, cupping her cheek gently this time, thumb brushing the warm skin beneath her eye.

"You should've told me," I murmur.

Her voice breaks into a whisper. "I thought you'd push me away."

Gods.

I pull her in and kiss her, slowly, deeply, grounding her. She melts instantly, fingers fisting my shirt like she's drowning and I'm the only thing keeping her afloat.

Her heat spikes again, sharp, intoxicating. And the part of me that's been wound tight since the field finally snaps.

I turn her, lifting her onto the desk in one smooth motion. She gasps, head falling back as I press her down, kissing her harder, deeper.

Her breath comes in quick, frantic waves as she wraps her legs around me. "Claude..."

"Shh." My voice drops, low and rough. "Let me take care of you."

She arches, trembling.

"And don't," I add, leaning close to her ear, "say another word about finding someone else."

She shivers violently at that. "I wasn't going to."

"Good."

Because the thought alone; her with someone else, makes my blood flare hot.

My mouth trails down her neck as she clings to me, heat pulsing off her in desperate waves.

I slide my hands under her thighs, pulling her closer. Her breath catches, a soft, helpless sound, and I lose the last of my restraint.

"Claude..." she whispers, voice breaking, "don't stop."

"I wasn't planning to."

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and the rest dissolves in heat, her gasps, my breath, the sound of the desk shifting beneath us as I pull her against me, giving her exactly what she needs.

When it's over, she's curled against my chest, breathing steady again. The feverish edge has faded, replaced with exhaustion and warmth.

But I'm wide awake.

My thoughts go right back where they started.

Elara.

The field.

Cassian's eyes.

His smile.

That sharp, knowing gleam.

The way he watched her like he recognized something he had no right to see.

My jaw locks.

Anastasia stirs slightly. "Claude?"

"Go back to sleep," I whisper, brushing her hair back. "You're okay."

She relaxes again.

But I can't.

Because one truth keeps repeating in my mind:

Cassian Veyron looked at my sister like she belonged to him.

And I will burn this entire academy down before I let that happen.