Chapter Six
1145 Words
JORDYN
Her offer was tempting. Too tempting. I didn't want to turn her down, especially since I could see beyond her mask of confidence. She was desperate. It could've been easy to say yes to her, but I couldn't bring myself to. Not when my fate was bound to my curse. Not when choosing her meant dragging her into the darkness that chained me.
“You're going to be late to class,” I said with an impassive voice.
Her expression faltered, hurt flashing in her purple eyes.
“Is this you rejecting me...and your child?” She demanded, angry tears filling her eyes.
I could’ve made it clear to her without hurting her feelings, but I was afraid she wouldn't give up.
Turning away from her, I moved towards my seat and sank into it, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest.
“You refused to listen when I warned you not to involve yourself with the Academy,” I deadpanned. “Whatever happens from this moment on... it's on you.”
She let out a bitter chuckle, her fingers trembling as she wiped away a lone tear. Then, without another word, she stormed toward the door, the sharp echo of her footsteps lingering long after she was gone.
Yearning bled deep into me as I registered her absence, and just when the guilt sank in, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Fishing it out, I was greeted by the sight of a notification. A message from the director of the academy.
The director's office was thick with silence. Six professors, myself included, sat around the large mahogany table. The air was heavy with unspoken tension, the kind that signaled that something was about to change.
I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting over the polished wooden bookshelves and framed portraits of past Academy directors.
My eyes narrowed when I caught sight of one particular portrait. A woman. She looked eerily like Brianne. They could have easily passed for mother and child.
The door opened, and the director stepped in, wiping his sweaty brows with a white handkerchief. After a round of greetings, he sat down on his seat and heaved a sigh.
“There's a new student in school. She goes by the name Brianne Nightbourne,” he began, and I stiffened.
Now that was strange.
I understood that Brianne wasn't from an a fluent family. Even so, she'd managed to catch the eye of the director in such a short time. Just who was she?
And why did the director seem so uneasy about her?
“I have an assignment for every one of you. That child can't stay here. She doesn't belong in this academy.” he stated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
A quiet murmur rippled through the room. “Is there a reason for that?” Professor Storm uttered, a concerned look in her eyes.
The director shifted in his seat, mopping off more sweat around his cheeks and jaw.
“Her arrival was long foretold. She's nothing but dangerous,” he responded, and my frown deepened.
Now, something was definitely off about this. There was more to this, but he wasn't telling us everything.
“What's our assignment then?” I asked, and he chuckled.
“Good question.” His smile faded, and he leaned back in his seat with a blank look on his face.
“I want to kick her out of this school for failing. From this moment onwards, a point system has been put in place. Whoever scores below 50 percent of the total requirement gets expelled,” he stated, his gaze meeting mine.
“So, you want us to sabotage her results and ensure that she fails,” Professor Henley said, his eyes squinted in concentration.
The director's lips twitched. “That's right. Our interest is built on protecting the honor of this academy. We can't possibly let an outsider destroy everything we've worked so hard to build,” he said, and I clenched my jaw, torn.
I was tempted to speak up for her. But then again, the director's plan might be better for her. If Brianne failed, she would be forced to leave. She would be safe.
This was the only way I could protect her. I was heading for the door of the director's office after the meeting when Dante's voice invaded my mind.
'I discovered something new about your mate,' he said, and a muscle ticked in my jaw. It felt awkward to hear him say the words 'your mate.' I hadn't accepted her after all.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Dante said, and I halted at the door, my fingers wrapped around the doorknob.
‘Believe what?’ I asked through the mind link, wondering why he sounded so excited.
“Your mate is not an ordinary person,” he began, and I nearly rolled my eyes. Judging from everything she’d gone through, she was most definitely not an ordinary person.
Pulling the door open, I stepped out of the office.
‘She’s the last Lunar heir,’ Dante continued, and I frowned, recalling that she’d mentioned it to me earlier.
A part of me had believed that she’d just blurted it out of desperation.
‘So?’ I said, still not understanding what this meant for her and for us.
‘Do you not remember? The only way to break free from your curse is to shift under the twin moons. And there’s only one person who can conjure the twin moons,’ he stated, and I froze, realization crashing into me like a lightning strike.
“The Lunar Heir.” I muttered under my breath, my heart beating faster as hope surged inside of me.
Excitement coursed through my veins, heating up my blood as I descended down a flight of stairs at full speed.
Brianne… I needed to get to her as soon as possible. If she could break the curse, there was no reason for me to push her away.
Yes, this was good. Great, even. Almost breathless, I stepped out into the school yard and started to head towards the first year classrooms while pondering which class she might be having at the moment.
I was just about to make it past the block of classrooms for second years when I heard a loud thud from the corner of the building.
Something twisted in my guts when I perceived Brianne’s unmistakable sweet scent mixed with a tang of metal. Blood. Tense, I headed towards the corner of the building and was greeted by an unexpected sight. Brianne.
She was beaten and bloody. And she was cradled in the arms of one of my enemies. Callum Emmerdale.
A firestorm of rage erupted inside me, my wolf thrashing against my control.
Who the hell had dared to lay a hand on her?
- Writer
