CHAPTER 15
1209 Words
ADINNA’S POV
The blast tears through the lab the second I hit the door. Heat and smoke chase me down the hallway as I stumble forward, coughing, eyes stinging. I don’t stop running until I’m outside, my chest heaving, my skin prickling from the shock. Behind me, the lab is swallowed by orange flames and black smoke.
By morning, the whole school knows.
They whisper as I walk past, words floating just loud enough for me to catch.
She did it. She finally lost it. She blew up the lab.
When I’m called in for questioning, I sit across from the board, hands clasped in my lap as they throw accusations at me.
“This isn’t the first time trouble has followed you,” one of them says.
“I didn’t do it,” I whisper.
Another sighs, flipping through papers. “The evidence is inconclusive, but the incident has disrupted the school’s stability. You’re punishment will b increased.”
I barely hear the rest. I know the truth and they don’t. Or maybe they just don’t care. I can almost see Jace’s smirk in my mind, the glint in his eyes when he finds a new way to twist the knife.
And Hunter… his face flashes through my memory. How he pulled me from the smoke, steady and calm, like saving me meant nothing.
Now, every shadow feels dangerous. Every sound makes me flinch. I know Jace isn’t finished.
For days, I hide. Curtains drawn, door locked. I skip meals, skip classes, anything to avoid another setup. But rules are rules. Staying in the dorm during class hours could get me expelled, and that’s exactly what they’d want.
So, eventually, I drag myself out of bed, heart pounding as I dress. My first class back is Shifter History with Professor Darren, a middle-aged wolf with kind eyes and a voice that’s usually gentle. Maybe he’ll believe I didn’t do it.
When I walk into the classroom, it’s almost empty. I slide into the last seat at the back corner, behind a shelf that blocks half the room. My books tremble in my hands as I set them down. I can feel the weight of silence pressing against my chest.
More students file in. Laughter. Conversations. And then the air shifts.
Jace walks in, followed closely by Dean. Jace’s eyes lock on me immediately, and that faint smile curls on his lips. The kind that says he’s enjoying this. He doesn’t speak, just takes the front seat directly in Professor Darren’s view.
My stomach twists.
Professor Darren begins the lecture. “Today, we’ll discuss the Great Pack War of 1847…” His voice fades to a distant hum. I can’t focus. Every word bounces off me. I keep my gaze down, pretending to write, but my pulse hammers in my ears.
Every few minutes, I catch students glancing back. Some whisper. Some snicker. None of them believe I didn’t do it.
Jace doesn’t look back once, but I can feel him watching me all the same.
When class finally ends, I wait until everyone leaves. My hands are trembling as I gather my books.
Professor Darren pauses by the desk, glancing at me. “Miss Adinna, you alright?”
I nod quickly. “Yes, sir. Just a bit behind.”
He gives a small, sympathetic smile. “You’ve had a rough week. Don’t let the noise get to you. Focus on your work.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
When the door shuts behind him, I let out a shaky breath and head for the hallway.
I don’t make it far.
A hard shove slams between my shoulder blades, and I stumble forward. My books scatter, pages spilling across the floor like leaves. Laughter erupts around me.
“Oops,” a girl says behind me, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Didn’t see you there.”
The others giggle. I glance up—three girls, all dressed perfectly, all wearing the same smirks. Salem’s little shadows.
“Careful, Adinna,” another one adds. “Wouldn’t want another accident to happen.”
My cheeks burn. “Just leave me alone,” I mutter, kneeling to pick up my papers.
“Oh, don’t be so sensitive,” the first girl says, stepping right over my notebook. “We’re just having fun.”
Their laughter trails off as they saunter away, leaving me on the cold floor, surrounded by the mess. I stare at the papers, trying to blink away the tears threatening to fall.
Then I see him.
A pair of boots stop in front of me—black, expensive, and spotless. My stomach knots instantly.
I look up. Hunter.
He stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable. The hallway feels smaller, quieter.
“You should have stayed down,” he says quietly. His voice isn’t mocking. It’s soft, almost detached, but the weight behind it makes my skin prickle.
I swallow hard. “Why did you save me then?”
He crouches in front of me, close enough that I can see the faint scar along his jaw. He picks up one of my textbooks, flips it open, and scans a few pages before letting it drop back to the floor.
“Maybe I didn’t feel like watching you die that day,” he says simply.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
He almost smiles. “No. It’s supposed to make you think.”
“About what?” My voice shakes.
He looks at me then, his eyes sharp but not cruel. “About how long you can survive here before Jace decides you’re not fun anymore.”
My chest tightens. “You think he’ll stop?”
“Jace doesn’t stop,” he says. “He breaks things. Slowly. Beautifully, if you ask him. And when he’s done…” He pauses, his gaze steady on mine. “There won’t be enough left to put back together.”
The words hit harder than the shove.
I stare at him, unsure if it’s a warning or a threat—or maybe both. “Why are you telling me this?”
He stands, brushing off his knees. “Because I don’t like seeing people pretend they can fight him.”
He turns to leave.
I manage to whisper, “Please…”
He stops for just a heartbeat, his back still to me. “You should have stayed down,” he repeats quietly, then walks away without looking back.
The sound of his footsteps fades down the hall.
I kneel there for a long time, surrounded by scattered papers and the echo of his words. The girls are gone, the laughter gone, but the silence feels heavier than before.
When I finally gather my things, my hands still tremble. I can’t tell if it’s fear or anger anymore or maybe both.
As I stand, I look toward the end of the hallway, half-expecting to see Jace waiting. But he’s not there. Just the echo of Hunter’s voice in my mind.
When he’s done with you, there won’t be enough left to put back together.
The thought stays with me long after I leave, following me like a shadow I can’t shake.
- Writer
