PRETTY FANGS
1172 Words
Morning came painfully slow.
The sunlight spilling through the morning curtains felt like an interrogation lamp trained directly at me. My sleep had been shallow with fractured dreams full of shadows that fled whenever I tried to catch them.
The texts from last night still sat in my stomach like stones.
You don’t deserve him.
You should have died back then, Arwenna.
I forced myself out of bed and got dressed. I tried to swallow the uneasy chill curling in my chest.
If Kaelith said I was safe, I should at least convince myself I was.
Campus buzzed with its usual morning chaos. Students dashed across the stone courtyard and wide hallways between school buildings.
The crisp autumn air was filled with chatter and laughter. It should have felt normal. Routine.
But after last night, nothing felt normal. However, I tried to convince myself otherwise.
As I stepped into the hallway leading to Magical Theory II, conversations paused. Many eyes slid toward me.
Whispers fluttered around me like butterflies. Except it wasn’t gentle.
I kept walking.
I wished I could pretend I didn’t notice the stares.
The half-hidden smirks. The curious looks. The pitiful glances. But they all hit me like physical nudges all the way to the classroom.
Inside, students were already settling in, and at the centre of the lecture room stood Liriel.
Auburn-haired, with a pretty smile, and glowing radiantly as she had descended from some noble podium built exclusively for the chosen and adored. She wore a muted green dress embroidered with silver patterns that shimmered faintly when she moved.
She made me feel uncomfortable in some kind of way. Her beauty wasn’t the problem.
Her eyes were!
Soft and sweet on the surface, but I could tell that beneath them was a sharpness like glass dipped in honey.
She brightened when she saw me. “Arwenna! Over here.”
I stiffened.
The way she called my name sounded like a fragile ornament she was about to drop.
I took a seat beside her because avoiding her would cause unnecessary attention, and I was tired from all the attention I had already got.
“Rough night?” She asked in a sympathetic tone that didn’t match the look on her face. Her eyes flickered down my face, noting every sign of fatigue like she was collecting evidence.
“I just couldn’t sleep,” I muttered.
Her smile grew softer. Too soft. “I heard you are married now, so I understand. It must be really hard adjusting to everything so quickly. Becoming a wife, keeping up with classes, and all that without a wolf.”
She tucked a stray strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. “I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for you.”
There it was.
The first jab of the morning.
“It’s okay,” I said, even though half of me felt like sinking into the ground.
Behind her, two girls slip into the seats beside her. I didn’t know their names, but I knew them. Silky voices. Sharp tongues. And eyes that lingered on people as if they were measuring their worth.
The brunette, pretending to whisper, leaned in. “I still can’t believe she is married.”
The other girl snorted. “To whom, though? Some pitiful arrangements? I heard he felt bad for her.”
My jaw tightened.
Liriel gasped. “Girls... don’t be harsh with your words.” She gave them a chastising frown for only three seconds before melting into some rehearsed look of compassion. “Arwenna’s doing her best.”
Their eyes slid over me.
“You’re right, Liriel.”
The brunette nodded. “I mean,” she added, “being wolfless at twenty-five? It’s giving disabled. No wonder someone had to step in.”
Heat crept up my neck.
Liriel rested her manicured hand on my arm. “Ignore them,” she murmured. “They’re being thoughtless.”
Thoughtless, I rolled the word on my tongue silently, staring at her hand.
No.
They weren’t thoughtless.
They were controlled.
By her.
This type of power play felt familiar to me, although I have no memories.
I didn’t mind all of this because I could get things out of them eventually, but I also didn’t like being the centre of attention.
Before I could respond, Professor Llyen walked in, his presence sweeping over the room like a tide.
He looked straight at me, his sharp grey eyes flickering with something like concern or curiosity.
“Settle down,” he called out. “Today we will continue with advanced rune sequencing...” He paused. “And Miss Lys will be assisting.”
My heart plummeted.
All eyes swivelled toward me.
Liriel blinked. “Arwenna?” Her voice sounded sweet. Too surprised. “But, she’s... well, she’s not exactly-”
“Qualified?” Professor Llyen interjected. “Yesterday proved otherwise.”
The class buzzed with shock.
My heart thudded against my ribs.
Professor Llyen gestured to the front. “Come.”
My legs carried me forward even though my mind screamed at me to stay still.
As I reached the board, a shimmering projection of a complex rune pattern hovered before us. Lines, sigils, anchors, channels... they looked beautiful.
“This sequence is incomplete,” he said, gesturing lightly. “Yesterday, Miss Lys corrected one far more complex than this. Let's see if she can explain this one, too.”
I swallowed hard.
No.
Not again.
But when I looked at the floating runes, something clicked. The shapes made sense. The energy threads hummed faintly.
“The anchor sigil is reversed,” I heard myself say.
“It creates a split in the energy flow. When the energy tries to stabilise, it gets trapped between channels two and three.” I traced the air, my fingers moving on their own. “So, it collapses.”
A faint glow gathered around my fingertips.
Liriel leaned forward, lips parted in disbelief.
Professor Llyen nodded slowly. “Correct.”
My palms were clammy.
The runes made sense. Too much sense. My body remembered what my mind couldn’t.
I stepped back.
The Professor dismissed the class some minutes later, but not before murmuring to me, “We are meeting by four. Be ready.”
Ready for what, exactly?
As I gathered my things, Liriel approached, her side-chicks in tow.
“You didn’t tell me you were gifted,” she said lightly. “You could have helped me study previously.”
“I didn’t know,” I replied.
“That’s... surprising.” Her lips curved into a pleasant smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A husband and a hidden talent. You’re full of surprises, Arwenna.” She leaned closer. “You are blessed. But be careful of losing them all.”
Her tone was sweet.
Her words were poison.
Her minions giggled as they followed her out.
I stood frozen.
Where did the targeted animosity come from?
And why, as I stepped into the hallway, did I feel someone watching me?
- Writer
