Chosen By Ruin

Heavy Adaptation

LILIANA

“Stop resisting,” the healer mutters, his voice edged with mild irritation. “It will only prolong the process.”

“I’m not resisting,” I grit out. That’s a lie. We’ve been on it for over thirty minutes and he said the session wasn’t supposed to last more than ten but I was resisting.

Every instinct in me recoils at the magic seeping into my skin. Damn it. I should have insisted that I could withstand the wounds when Darian offered to bring me to the fourth floor—The healer’s part of the academy building.

His hands hover above my bruised ribs again, glowing faintly gold. The light sinks into me like heat under flesh. It’s warm and too invasive. I suck in a breath as the ache in my side twists sharply, then suddenly- fades.

Like it was never there.

I freeze.

The pain is gone.

My eyes flick to him in disbelief. “It’s…gone?”

The healer smiles, the dimple on his right cheek popping. “You’re good to go. It’s the last one.” He’s healed all my new wounds. I cannot believe it.

Inside this building, it’s easy to forget we still live in the modern world.

My gaze drifts to Darian who has his arms folded around him, leaning against the mist-covered window. He only had his white shirt on now, buttons detached to the waist area. His suit jacket is now hung over his shoulder as he impatiently waits for the healer to be done.

He was supposed to walk me to my room after that…unplanned kiss, but had noticed my discomfort as wounds burned under my dress.

“Done?” He asks him.

“All done.” The healer says as I draw my dress down to cover my skin.

Then Darian pulls himself away from the window and crosses the space between him and the healer swiftly. “You say a word to anyone that she didn’t heal on her own, and I won’t hesitate to snap your neck, Ilias.” He warns, his eyes piercing and hard.

I open my mouth to say something, surprised at the unexpected threat, but nothing comes out.

The healer- long dark hair tied loosely at his nape, brown sleeves rolled up to his elbows, pauses before snorting.

“Trust me, Dominion, I value my neck too much to test that threat.”

His lips twitch as he adds, “Besides, I wouldn’t dare cross one of the Draven twins. I quite enjoy breathing.”

Darian’s mouth tilts. “Good,” he replies.

I sit up, then face Ilias, “Thank you.” I breath out.

“Anything for Darian.” He says.

I slowly push myself on my feet, testing my body. I feel no pain or stiffness. No sign that minutes ago, the cuts and bruises I acquired from trying to escape, and from Liam dragging me across the rocky grounds, were there.

Darian gestures for me to follow, and I fall into step beside him as we leave.

The corridors of Supraveil stretch endlessly.

Stone arches curve overhead, carved with ancient symbols that glow faintly like dying stars. The floors beneath our feet are plain black marble, reflecting our movements in distorted ripples.

Tall windows line one side, revealing the vastness outside—parts of the academy sprawling like a city of towers, bridges, and layered structures connected by suspended walkways.

It’s too big.

We descend a wide staircase that spirals down through multiple levels. We barely come across anyone. It’s very late into the night already.

While I’m worried about returning to that room that faces where the demonic twin lives, I am more worried about whether Luna Gwen has eventually reached out to Hannah’s parents.

But I’m clinging onto the hope that Alpha Soren would hear of it if she does- since Hannah and her parents are his pack members.

Alpha Soren wouldn’t allow Luna Gwen to reach out, and if he does, he would surely have something to say to protect me- till I’m able to fulfill his sick mission.

Shit. I haven’t even started processing to be moved to the cooking class. And I was told the weak ones do the cooking.

Not a good one for image, but I am not here to build a reputation. I’m only concerned about leaving and finding my sister. Finding answers to why my parents were killed, and God knows my feet are still stamped on the willingness to avenge their death.

I keep my gaze forward.

“Tell me what Liam did to you.”

Darian’s voice comes out sharply as we keep descending the stairs.

I don’t even look at him. “Liam didn’t do anything. I fell.”

The tension between us grow heavier. I still haven’t gotten over the kiss.

“You expect me to believe that?” he asks.

“I don’t care what you believe.”

I can feel his jaw tightening without looking.

“See, Nana, one of the many reasons I fell for you is because of your stubborness, but I can’t protect you if I don’t know where to start from,” he says. “You keep shutting me out, and it’s going to get you killed.”

Well, it wasn’t me he fell for. It was Hannah.

I stop walking and turn to him. “I said I fell.”

His eyes search mine, frustration flickering beneath his eyes like he can’t decide if he wants to pressure me or give it up.

“Fine,” he exhales. Then, quieter, he asks, “You and Liam… there’s nothing non-platonic going on, right?”

For a second, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what Liam plans since he’s surely coming up with his conditions- which had already started by claiming we made out earlier.

“Can you not ask me questions right now, please?” I say instead. “I just want to get to my bed and sleep.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

“I’m serious, Hannah.”

“So am I.”

He stops and holds my arm.

He searches my face with wandering eyes. “That fire on the field… was that you?”

My stomach twists. “No.” I huff out a silent nervous laughter. “Wolves surely don’t wield fire.”

He studies me for a long second before nodding slowly.

“I thought as much. And I’ve concluded that it was probably one of the witches or wizards messing around with their powers,” he mutters. “Or Liam trying to kill you.”

I don’t respond. Because that’s closer to the truth than he realizes.

We resume walking.

“I’m leaving,” he says after a while.

My steps falter. “Leaving?”

“Yes. I have a mission that demands my presence for two weeks.” His eyes dart around as if trying to make sure no one is watching.

That… I didn’t expect. “What kind of mission?”

“Some of us third years go out with graduates to put all they’ve learned into exercises. It’s a field work to protect civilians from real threats.”

He explains, but I need precision. “What threats?”

“You’ll learn about it in class. Don’t be too curious, Nana.” He almost smile.

I am worried he hasn’t talked about Xaden killing someone or even looked worried about it. He doesn’t seem to spend time with his twin either. That- I have noticed. And I have so many questions to ask about the sleeping dragon.

“Are you worried, Nana?”

The nickname lands softly, but it still unsettles me because it doesn’t belong to me.

I shake my head.

“I’ll be fine.”

His hand lifts, then brushes my cheek lightly. The contact is warm and almost grounding.

“We’ll catch up more when I’m back,” he says. “Especially about your… amnesia.”

My stomach drops.

But I force a nod. Two weeks. By then, I should be done with my own mission here. I would be gone.

“My mother will make sure no one touches you,” he adds. “Just… do well in your first official class tomorrow.”

__

The next morning finds me in Supraveil academy uniform. Black short-plitted skirt, white shirt, black jacket, purple tie, and black boots.

And I’m late.

The classroom is massive—tiered seating carved into a semi-circle, descending toward a central platform where the lecturer stands. Tall columns frame the space, each etched with glowing soft amber light. Every seat is occupied.

Every head turns when I step in.

“…which is precisely why siphons were driven into extinction,” the professor is saying, his voice echoing through the hall. “They absorbed power without restraint, blinded by it, until their actions threatened the balance of every realm.”

The lecture sounds interesting, but I won’t be taking notes.

The professor stops speaking.

Then directly at me.

“You’re late.”

“Yes, sir,” I say quickly. “I didn’t realize on time that the class was scheduled for eight.”

He pauses and scrutinizes me from afar.

Then, coldly, he says, “You will remain standing for the duration of this class. Perhaps that will help you study your timetable better next time.”

A few students snicker.

I move to the side, standing near the wall, feeling heat crawl up my neck.

“Maybe her wolf was busy catching on fire again,” A boy

mutters and laughter ripples through the room.

“She’s got it hot for the future Alpha.” Another says, and the laughter continues.

I don’t need to look to know they’re talking about me.

About yesterday morning. My fingers curl at my sides.

“Read the room next time, Logan,” A familiar voice defends me, and I look to see Sloane.

I glance at her. She gives me a small, reassuring look.

The boy named Logan scoffs as he turns on his seat to glare at Sloane. “No. I think you- should read the room. Weren’t you supposed to be in your second year? Heard you repeated.”

More laughter circulates, making my body pulsate with underlying anger.

“Enough,” Professor Dean snaps before Sloane can retort. “We continue.”

The room settles, and I remain standing, already regretting my decision to come to class at all.

Just then, I sense a powerful presence. I can’t help but shift my attention to the entrance as if someone is approaching.

The door opens, not giving me the time to doubt it. And Liam walks in. I blink.

Air shifts around him, like a storm gathering before it breaks.

He doesn’t look anywhere else but at me till he stops before me.

Everything about Liam looks eerie. His menacing strides, sharp onyx eyes, silver hair falling to a side of his face, and that sharp jaw that’s always pulled tight like he hates everything.

But he surprisingly smiles. At me. My stomach sinks.

“Dominion Liam, you can’t just walk in when…” The professor is saying, but he interrupts.

“Professor Dean,” he says smoothly as he turns from me, voice cutting through the silence, “I apologize on my girlfriend’s behalf for coming late to class.”

My heart slams against my ribs.

The entire students now have their eyes at the back of the class.

“Do allow her sit. First classes and humiliation don’t exactly create a good experience for an initiate.” Liam says in my defense, unsettling me further.