(Lucas’ POV).
“You hear that?” someone whispered behind me.
I stopped mid-stride, my boots scuffing the polished floor of the hallway just outside my next class.
My ears twitched, not from the sound itself, but the tone—low, sharp, deliberate.
I turned my head slightly. A group of students were clustered near the wall, pretending to scroll through their phones or talk about the class assignment, but their eyes kept darting toward me—too often, too deliberate.
One of them, a beta from the East Wing, went pale when our eyes met. The others looked away quickly.
“Is there a damn reason you’re all whispering like mice in a den?” I asked, my voice calm but cold, laced with steel.
Silence. They didn't brave to reply my words, but they braved to talk behind me.
I stepped forward, slow
