Viola and I walk together through the marble corridor that connects the wolves’ school to the witches’ tower. Sunlight streams through tall, arched windows, scattering light across the floor like shards of broken glass. At the end of the hall stands a massive double door carved with runes shimmering faintly with residual magic.
We exchange a nervous smile. Together, we press our palms to the door. It groans open, spilling warm light into the hallway. The room beyond is vast, with stone floors polished to shine like a mirror, and a ceiling high enough to swallow an echo. Dozens of students turn as we step inside. And standing at the front, f*****g Elara.
“Alyssa?” Sylas calls, snapping my attention from Elara’s glimmering white hair to the purple eyes crossing the room in long, confident
