Chapter Three
1445 Words
Madam Tusaud glanced wearily at the boy in front of her. He was particularly tall, dark hair and a red crown tattoo that glittered fiercely on a powerful neck , bold and visible because the first three buttons of his white shirt was carelessly and intentionally unbuttoned.
She frowned. A ruffian. God. Her frown deepened as she opened the file in front of her. She adjusted her reading glasses to be certain she was seeing well.
Then she began reading aloud.
"Expelled from Black Ridge Academy."
Another page.
"Expelled from West Hollow."
Another page.
"Northmoor."
Another.
"Raven Crest."
Another.
"Eastcliff."
She sighed "Six schools in six months. Boy, that's quite a record"
"Trivialities " The voice belonged to the stocky red bearded man who sat in front of her, his black eyes shining as if they contained darkness. The boy's father , Lionel Nouveau.
Madam Tusaud snorted "What makes you think Belcaris Academy will be any different. Your son clearly has a thing with constituted authority."
Lionel Nouveau did not answer immediately. His broad shoulders remained squared, but there was a weariness in his face that no amount of pride could conceal.
"My son has... a temper," he admitted at last. "One he is still learning to master."
Madam Tusaud arched an eyebrow.
"A temper?"
She flipped through another page.
"The report from Raven Crest says he shattered an entire dormitory."
Another page.
"West Hollow claims he petrified a student for three hours."
Another.
"Black Ridge accuses him of setting their gymnasium ablaze. And let's not forget the murder of that girl, Davina Scott. I heard your son sliced her into eight pieces because she said no to him."
She lowered the file slowly.
"Forgive me, Alpha Nouveau, but that sounds considerably worse than a temper."
Lionel exhaled through his nose. "I am no longer an Alpha."
Madam Tusaud hesitated.
The title had slipped from her lips out of habit.
"My apologies," she said finally a piteous look of surprise.
Lionel merely waved the apology away. "Titles don't matter anymore."
They mattered once.
Before the council stripped him of his lands.
Before his own people turned against him.
Before every door in the Wolf Realm began closing in his face.
Madam Tusaud closed the file.
"Then tell me plainly. Why Belcaris?"
Lionel finally met her eyes.
"Because every other academy has given up on him." His voice remained steady.
"I haven't."
"You make me sound exhausting." The voice had a certain nonchalance.
Madam Tusaud looked up.
The boy hadn't moved from where he leaned against the window. One hand rested in his pocket while the other lazily twirled an unlit lighter between his fingers.
He wasn't ashamed.
He looked bored.
"You are pretty loud mouthed for a disgraceful black sheep. Trying to ruin an esteemed family name". Madam Tusaud said hurriedly and adjusted her glasses once again.
She turned to Lionel Nouveau.
Madam Tusaud folded her hands atop the file.
"Belcaris has handled rogues. Unstable Alphas. Even wolves who couldn't survive their first shift. Tell me honestly, Mr. Nouveau... what exactly is wrong with your son?"
Lionel was silent.
The silence stretched long enough for Madam Tusaud to realize she wasn't going to like the answer.
"He isn't merely a wolf," Lionel said at last.
Madam Tusaud frowned.
"Meaning?"
Lionel's eyes drifted to his son.
Chace still hadn't turned from the window.
"His mother wasn't one of us."
"What do you mean... she wasn't one of us?"
Lionel said quietly "She was a demon."
Madam Tusaud 's face lost all color.
She rose so abruptly her chair scraped across the floor.
"Impossible." She cried.
Lionel sighed "I wish it were."
Her eyes darted to the reports.
Petrification.
Fire.
Uncontrolled violence.
The impossible strength.
Suddenly every page made sense.
Lionel went on with the resigned quietness of a broken man who had accepted his tedious fate. "He inherited both bloodlines. The wolf obeys instinct. The demon obeys emotion. When he loses control... they stop listening to each other."
Madam Tusaud stared at the boy as though she were seeing him for the first time.
The tattoo.
The unnatural stillness.
The faint shimmer of crimson beneath his skin.
"How..." she whispered. "Demons have been extinct for almost twenty years."
Lionel's expression darkened. "Almost."
Silence settled over the office.
Chace flicked the lighter open.
Click.
Closed it.
Click.
Open again.
The sound grated against Madam Tusaud's nerves.
"Would you stop doing that?" she snapped.
Chace slipped the lighter back into his pocket without protest.
"See?" he said lazily. "Progress."
Lionel rubbed a hand across his beard.
"He isn't beyond saving, Madam Tusaud."
She gave a short, incredulous laugh.
"Every Principal before me has said exactly that before expelling him."
"You're not every Principal."
Madam Tusaud held Lionel's gaze for a long moment.
Then she looked back at Chace.
"Tell me something, boy."
For the first time since entering the office, Chace turned away from the window.
His eyes were startling.
Not wolf eyes.
Not entirely.
There was something ancient in them.
Something that made the tiny hairs at the back of her neck rise.
"Did you kill that girl?"
Lionel stiffened.
Chace didn't.
He only smiled.
"Does it matter what I say?"
Madam Tusaud said nothing. The boy turned his eyes back to the window.
Chace's attention drifted beyond the principal's office.
Students streamed through the academy gates in waves of blue-striped uniforms, laughing too loudly, shoving one another with the careless excitement of resumption morning
.
None of them interested him.
Then...
A girl stepped through the gates.
Dark hair. Blue eyes. Freckles dusting the bridge of her nose.
She was walking beside another girl, talking animatedly, one hand moving wildly as she spoke.
She laughed.
Chace stiffened.
Something inside him lurched.
His pulse stumbled.
Then struck his ribs so violently it almost hurt.
Mine.
The word did not come from his mind.
It came from somewhere much deeper.
Older.
Hungrier.
His fingers tightened against the windowsill.
The wood groaned.
A thin c***k splintered across the polished frame.
Lionel looked up immediately.
"Chace?"
He didn't answer.
Every sound in the office dissolved into meaningless noise.
All he could see was the girl outside.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear while her friend laughed at something she'd said.
Ordinary.
Completely ordinary.
Yet every instinct inside him screamed that the world had just tilted on its axis.
Heat exploded beneath the red crown tattoo curling on his neck.
It burned.
He grabbed at it instinctively.
His pupils narrowed to slits.
The air in the office grew several degrees hotter.
Lionel was on his feet before the principal even realized anything was wrong.
"Chace."
Chace swallowed.
His throat suddenly felt dry.
"Who..."
It was barely a whisper.
"...is that?"
Madam Tusaud frowned. "Who?"
Chace lifted one trembling finger toward the window. "That girl."
Madam Tusaud walked over and glanced outside.
Her eyes settled on the dark-haired student crossing the courtyard.
"That?" she said casually. "That's Sia Thorne."
The name echoed through him.
Sia Thorne.
He repeated it silently.
Once.
Twice.
Like committing scripture to memory.
Outside, Sia disappeared into the crowd without looking up.
Chace smiled.
It wasn't a pleasant smile.
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