His Broken Mate

Chapter Four: Echoes Between the Walls

The fire alarm didn’t blare.

It whispered.

A long, low hum began vibrating through the school’s walls, too low for human ears, too sharp for wolves to ignore. Athena’s back stiffened before she even understood why.

Caleb turned toward her, eyebrows raised. “Did you hear that?”

She didn’t answer. She was already on her feet.

Outside, the clouds had shifted. Gone was the steady gray—now it was fractured light, sharp shadows dancing across the ground as if the sun couldn’t decide whether to stay or flee.

The hum deepened. Not from the speakers. From beneath them.

She crossed the room in two strides and yanked the door open. The hallway was strangely quiet. Students still sat in their classrooms, unbothered. Teachers still spoke. No one else seemed to notice.

Why can’t they feel it?

“Athena?” Caleb called behind her, uncertain now. “What’s going on?”

She reached for her phone. No new messages. She texted Nyt anyway.

> Something’s wrong. You feel it?

No reply.

That’s when she heard it—soft, almost delicate. A single, broken howl.

Far away. But not far enough.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Athena broke into a run.

She didn’t know where she was going exactly—toward the noise, away from it, through it—but her feet knew. She sprinted past confused students, down the emergency stairwell, out the side exit of the building into the field behind the school.

And then—

Nothing.

No enemy. No blood. Just the wind, tugging at her sleeves. And the silence. The wrongness of it.

Her phone buzzed.

Nyt:

> I heard it. Stay there. I’m coming.

She exhaled, just a little. The knot in her chest eased—but didn’t release.

Then came the scent.

Not blood.

Not danger.

Something colder.

Rot. Magic.

Ancient.

Her breath caught.

She turned—slowly.

At the edge of the forest behind the school, something moved.

A shadow. A figure. She couldn’t see its face, only the outline. Not big enough to be a bear. Not human either. Not quite.

It stared at her.

And then it vanished.

Not ran. Not walked.

Vanished.

Her legs finally remembered how to move. She backed away until she reached the building again, fingers fumbling for the door handle.

Caleb was there, waiting inside with wild eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

Athena didn’t answer.

She texted Nyt again:

> It was here.

I saw it.

He responded immediately.

> Get home. Now.