Wolf Shadow Academy

Chapter 7: Crossroads

Elena's POV

The air in my room was slowly rising and getting thick with tension and fear; the shadow near the corner of the room remained unmoving. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out any rational thoughts.

"Who's there?" My voice failed me by trembling despite my attempt to sound confident.

The figure stepped into the faint moonlight seeping through the window. My stomach clenched when I somehow recognized the intruder—it was Carte. His familiar smirk sent a shiver of fear crawling down my spine.

"Missed me?" He drawled, leaning casually against the wall, as though his mere presence wasn’t enough of an invasion.

I scrambled to my feet, clutching the thin blanket around me like a shield. "What do you want?"

Carte took a step closer, his predatory gaze locking onto mine. "Relax, Elena. I’m not here to hurt you... well, unless you give me a reason to."

His tone sounded light as someone who somehow knew that he owned me or something, but there was no mistaking the threat beneath his words. My heart raced as I tried to think of a way out. The door was behind him, and even if I managed to get past, who could I run to? Who would help me from Little Prince Charming here?

"You shouldn’t be here," I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

Carte chuckled, low and menacing. "And yet, here I am. Funny how that works, isn’t it?"

I inched toward the side table where a broken lamp sat. If I could grab it, I might have a chance to defend myself. Carte noticed my subtle movement and raised an eyebrow.

"Looking for this?" He held up the jagged lamp base I hadn’t realized was already in his hand. "Come on, Elena. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?"

Fear turned to anger, hot and consuming. "Get out of my room, Carte. Now."

“What more do you want from me?” I asked with a shaky voice. “You rejected me as your mate, but came here and marked me by r****g me. What more do you want?!” This is what I wish I could say to him, but it remained in my head.

His smirk widened as he tossed the lamp aside, the crash echoing ominously in the small space. "You’re feisty tonight. I like that."

Before I could respond, the door burst open, slamming against Carter, who was standing behind it and against the wall with a loud bang. He whined in pain as we both turned to see Tristan standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine.

“How long has he been there? Is he here to help me? Oh God, let him be here to help me out of Carter’s claws.” I thought to myself.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tristan’s voice finally came out of his cords, sounding all calm and collected, but there was a dangerous edge to it too.

Carte straightened, his smirk faltering for a brief moment before he recovered. "Relax, Tristan. I was just having a chat with our dear Elena here. You can go have a taste; today isn’t my shift." He smirked.

"Get out," Tristan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Carte hesitated, his gaze darting between Tristan and me in confusion.I could guess what was going through his little mind, but not right now. Whatever power struggle was happening between them, I wasn’t privy to it, but the tension was indeed palpable.

"Fine," Carte said eventually, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "I was just leaving anyway."

He brushed past Tristan, pausing only to murmur something in his ear. Whatever he said made Tristan’s jaw tighten, but he didn’t respond, though. Carter shot me one last look before disappearing into the hallway.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Are you okay?" Tristan finally asked, his voice softer now.

I nodded, though my hands were still trembling and even though that question sounded weird. It should be noted that “are you okay?” is not a question I have been asked ever since I lost my parents, so it was a little strange and new. But then again, it was coming from someone who isn’t any different from the people I grew up knowing—Tristan.

"What was he doing here?"

Tristan’s jaw clenched as he stepped further into the room and closed the door. "Carter likes to play games. Unfortunately, you’ve become one of his favorite targets."

"Why? I’ve done nothing to him," I said, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“He’s the one that has wronged me all these times.” I added.

Tristan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Because you’re easy prey. Weak, isolated, and... different."

There! The words I was used to hearing finally came out. His words stung, even though I knew they were true.

"Thanks for the pep talk," I said bitterly, sitting back down on the bed.

Tristan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I didn’t come here to argue. I came to make sure you’re safe. Carter may be gone for now, but he’ll be back if he thinks he can get away with it."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his motives. Tristan was one person I couldn’t quite understand. I couldn’t see through him like every other person who would usually bully and make fun of me, and from the few days we’ve started talking, he wasn’t the type to do anything without a reason.

"Why do you care?" I asked, my voice tinged with suspicion.

For a moment, something vulnerable flickered in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Let’s just say I have my reasons."

He pushed off the wall and headed for the door. "Lock this behind me. And if Carter comes back, don’t open it—no matter what he says."

I nodded, too drained to argue. As soon as he was gone, I locked the door and slumped against it, my legs giving out beneath me.

The rest of the night was a blur of restless tossing and turning. Every creak and shadow made my heart race, and by the time dawn broke, I felt like a ghost of myself. Eye bags from lack of sleep, loss of voice, and the rest of the things that accompanied a restless Elena.

The next day, I walked into the dining hall with a heavy sense of dread. Whispers and stares followed me like shadows, but I kept my head down as usual, refusing to let them see how much it affected me.

Tristan was already seated at a table in the corner, his piercing gaze finding me the moment I walked in. He gestured for me to join him, and though every instinct told me to avoid him, I forced my feet to move.

"You look like hell," he said bluntly as I sat down.

"Thanks," I muttered, grabbing a piece of toast from the tray he’d already filled.

"You should eat more," Tristan said, his tone almost scolding. "You’ll need your strength."

"For what?" I asked, my appetite disappearing at the thought of whatever he had planned.

Tristan leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Training."

"Training?" I repeated, disbelief coloring my tone.

"Yes, training," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You want to stop being a victim, don’t you? This is how you do it."

I stared at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. "And you’re going to train me? Why?"

"Because," Tristan said, leaning forward so only I could hear, "if you’re going to survive in this place, you need to learn how to fight back. And I’m the only one who can teach you."

The training ground was tucked away behind the academy, hidden from prying eyes. It was nothing fancy—just a stretch of dirt surrounded by trees—but it was private, which was all that mattered.

We ate and stood up, heading to the “training ground,” I guess.

Tristan stood in the center, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp. He tossed me a wooden staff, which I barely caught in time.

"First lesson," he said, twirling his own staff with practiced ease. "Never let your guard down."

Before I could react, he lunged at me, the tip of his staff striking my shoulder. Pain shot through me, and I stumbled back, clutching the spot.

"What the hell, Tristan?" I snapped.

"Lesson two," he continued, ignoring my outburst. "Pain is inevitable. The trick is not letting it control you."

I glared at him, my anger outweighing my fear. "Fine. Let’s do this."

The hours that followed were some of the hardest of my life. Tristan didn’t hold back, pushing me to my limits and then beyond them. Every time I thought I couldn’t go on, he forced me to dig deeper, to find strength I didn’t know I had.

By the time the sun began to set, I was covered in bruises and drenched in sweat, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

"You did good today," Tristan said as we walked back to the dorms.

"Thanks," I said, too exhausted to say more.

He paused, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "This is just the beginning, Elena. Things are going to get harder from here. But if you stick with it, you’ll come out stronger. I promise."

“Promise?”

I nodded,

his words sinking in. For the first time, I think I believed him.