CRESCENT MOON RISING

CHAPTER FOUR

The morning after the window incident, Sasha woke to someone pounding on her door.

"Rise and shine, sparkly!" Maya's voice cut through the fog of exhaustion like a blade through butter. "You have thirty seconds before I use magic on this lock, and I should warn you—I'm not great at precision spells. There's a fifty-fifty chance the door explodes."

Sasha groaned and rolled out of bed, her body protesting every movement. She'd spent half the night cleaning up glass, her magic finally settling enough to let her sleep around 3 a.m. The other half she'd spent staring at the ceiling, running through everything that had happened. Rhys's words. His smell. The way he'd looked at her like she was simultaneously beneath him and the most interesting thing he'd seen all week.

It made no sense. None of this made sense.

She yanked open the door.

Maya stood in the hallway with two coffees and a grin that suggested she'd been awake for hours and was thoroughly enjoying Sasha's suffering. She'd changed out of last night's clothes into something that looked effortlessly stylish—a chunky sweater, jeans that fit perfectly, boots that probably cost more than Sasha's entire wardrobe.

"Good, you're alive." She shoved a cup into Sasha's hands. "Drink this. We have places to be."

Sasha took a grateful sip. The coffee was perfect—hot, strong, exactly how she liked it. "We do?"

"Orientation. The real kind." Maya pushed past her into the room, dropping onto the bed like she'd been doing it for years. She surveyed the space with sharp eyes, noting the boarded window, the neat piles of clothes, the camera equipment on the desk. "The official orientation is garbage. They tell you about class schedules and meal plans and 'appropriate supernatural conduct.'" She made air quotes with her free hand. "They don't tell you who's actually dangerous, who's just pretending to be dangerous, and who you can trust when things go sideways."

"And you know all that?"

"I know enough." Maya's expression shifted, something more serious flickering behind her easy grin. "I've been here for two years. I've made friends. I've made enemies. I've learned which professors will actually help you and which ones will throw you to the wolves—literally." She paused. "Figuratively. Mostly."

Sasha sipped her coffee, studying Maya over the rim of the cup. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm the only person who's talked to you since you arrived, and I brought Thai food." Maya shrugged. "Also because my grandmother always says that trust is built, not given. So don't trust me yet. Just... come on a walk with me. Let me show you the campus the way it really is."

Sasha thought about it. About the whispers, the stares, the way every other student had looked through her like she didn't exist. About Rhys's contempt and Luc's strange interest and Professor Okonkwo's assessing gaze.

Maya was the first person who'd looked at her like she was just... a person.

"Fine," Sasha said. "Give me five minutes."

The tour started at the library.

Veritas's library was nothing like the quiet, dusty archives Sasha had expected. It was massive—five stories of Gothic architecture, stained glass windows, and shelves that seemed to stretch into infinity. Students moved through the aisles with purpose, their footsteps echoing on marble floors. The air smelled of old paper and candle wax and something else, something that made Sasha's magic hum in recognition.

Old magic. Really old magic.

"The east wing," Maya said, pointing at a set of double doors guarded by two students who looked like they'd been carved from granite. Both were large, broad-shouldered, with the unmistakable gleam of werewolf in their eyes. They watched everyone who passed with the focused attention of predators. "Werewolf territory. Specifically, pureblood territory. They study here, hang out here, hold their pack meetings here. Do not go in there alone."

"What happens if I do?"

"The first time? They'll scare you. Make sure you know you're not welcome." Maya's voice was carefully neutral. "The second time? Depends on who catches you. Rhys Donovan might just throw you out. His father would do worse."

Sasha's stomach tightened at the name. "His father?"

"Alpha of the Northeast Pack. One of the most powerful werewolves in North America." Maya led her away from the library, toward a building that hummed with barely contained energy. Its walls were covered in ivy so thick it looked like the stone had grown fur, and the windows glowed with warm light despite the morning sun. "Rhys is his heir. Which means he's under a lot of pressure to be perfect, to be pure, to hate everything his father hates."

"And his father hates hybrids."

"His father hates anything that isn't a pureblood werewolf. Witches are tolerated because we're old and powerful. Vampires are... negotiated with. But hybrids?" Maya shook her head. "Hybrids are an abomination in his eyes. Something that shouldn't exist."

Sasha's throat tightened. "And Rhys?"

Maya glanced at her, something knowing in her eyes. "Rhys is complicated. He's been raised to hate what you are, but he's also smart enough to think for himself. Sometimes." She pushed open the door to the building they'd stopped in front of. "Welcome to Witch Hall."

The moment Sasha crossed the threshold, her magic surged.

It was like stepping into a current—power flowing all around her, through her, so strong it made her gasp. The air itself seemed to shimmer with energy. Candles floated in midair along the hallway. Portraits on the walls moved, their subjects turning to watch her pass. In a room to her left, a circle of students chanted in a language Sasha didn't recognize, blue light rising from their joined hands.

"This is..." She couldn't find the words.

"Overwhelming?" Maya smiled. "Yeah. I felt the same way my first time. You get used to it." She led Sasha down the hallway, past classrooms and practice rooms and spaces Sasha couldn't even identify. "The witches here are... complicated."

"How so?"

"We're the oldest faction at Veritas. We were here before the vampires arrived, before the werewolves claimed territory. This used to be a witch school exclusively." Maya's voice was carefully neutral, but Sasha caught the undercurrent of something—pride, maybe, or frustration. "Some of the older families haven't adjusted well to sharing."

"Like your family?"

Maya stopped walking. For a moment, she just stood there, her back to Sasha, her shoulders tense. Then she turned, and her expression was impossible to read.

"My grandmother is the head of the Ancestral Council. The most powerful witch in North America." She said it flatly, like she was reciting facts from a textbook. "She's... traditional. She remembers a time when witches didn't have to share anything with anyone. When we were the ones in charge." A pause. "But she raised me to think for myself. To question tradition. To decide what I believe instead of just accepting what I'm told."

Sasha studied her. "That must be hard."

"You have no idea." Maya's smile returned, but it was smaller now, more real. "That's why I'm giving you the real tour, instead of pretending you don't exist like everyone else. Because my grandmother would want me to report on you, to assess you, to figure out if you're a threat." She met Sasha's eyes. "And I'm choosing to do something else instead."

Sasha's throat tightened. "Why?"

"Because you looked terrified last night, and no one should be terrified alone." Maya squeezed her arm, quick and warm. "Also because I've never met a hybrid before, and I'm fascinated."

Sasha laughed despite herself. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me since I got here."

"Welcome to Veritas. The bar is on the floor."

They spent the rest of the morning walking campus. Maya was an excellent guide—knowledgeable, opinionated, and completely unafraid to point out which professors were secretly sleeping with each other and which students were secretly sleeping with enemy students.

"Vampire gathering spots," she said, gesturing at a cluster of buildings near the clock tower. "They're not as territorial as the wolves—they've had centuries to learn that cooperation is more effective than aggression. But don't let one feed on you unless you're really, really sure. It's not like the movies. It's... intimate."

"Intimate how?"

Maya's expression flickered. "It's hard to explain. But it creates a bond. A connection. Some people spend their whole lives chasing that feeling again." She shook her head. "Anyway. Stay out of the administrative building's basement—it's where they keep the really old magic, and really old magic is always hungry. Don't eat anything offered to you by a fae, even if they seem friendly. And if you hear someone calling your name in the woods at night, ignore it. It's probably just a lost freshman, but it might be something else."

"Something else like what?"

"You don't want to know."

They walked in silence for a moment, past buildings and students and the constant hum of magic that seemed to permeate everything. Sasha's wolf was quieter today, satisfied by the exercise and the company. Her magic was calm too, soothed by the presence of so much power around her.

It felt almost like belonging.

Almost.

"The clock tower," Maya said, pointing at the Gothic spire in the center of campus. It rose above everything else, ancient stone dark with age, its face frozen at 11:47. "No one goes up there. It's technically off-limits, but the lock is broken and has been for decades. Good place to think."

Sasha studied the tower. Something about it pulled at her, made her magic stir with curiosity. "Why's it stopped?"

"No one knows. Some say it broke the day the first hybrid was born. Some say it's waiting for something." Maya shrugged. "Witches love their symbolism. We can't help it."

"First hybrid?" Sasha's heart skipped. She tried to keep her voice casual, but she could feel Maya watching her. "There were others?"

"Project Chimera. Government experiment in the sixties." Maya's voice was matter-of-fact, like she was discussing a history lesson instead of the very thing that had created Sasha's existence. "They tried to create the perfect soldier by splicing supernatural DNA with human volunteers. Vampire speed, werewolf strength, witch magic—all in one package." She shook her head. "It failed. The subjects were unstable. Most of them died. The ones who survived went into hiding."

She paused, looking at Sasha with those sharp, knowing eyes.

"At least, that's the official story."

Sasha's mouth was dry. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure Maya could hear it. "What's the unofficial story?"

"That some of them survived. Had children. And that those children—naturally born hybrids—are more powerful than anything the government ever created." Maya held her gaze, unwavering. "And that one of them is prophesied to either unite the supernatural world or destroy it."

The words hung in the air between them like a physical weight.

Sasha couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't think.

"You know," she said finally. It wasn't a question.

"I suspected. The aura gave you away." Maya's voice was gentle, but her eyes were serious. "I won't tell anyone. That's not why I brought you here." She stepped closer, lowering her voice even though no one was nearby. "But you need to be careful, Sasha. There are people here who would kill for a chance to control a hybrid. And others who would kill just to make sure you never exist."

Sasha's hands were shaking. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're going to find out anyway. Better from a friend than an enemy." Maya smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Also because my grandmother has been watching you since you arrived, and if she's interested, you're in danger."

The words hit Sasha like a physical blow. "Your grandmother—"

"Head of the Ancestral Council. The most powerful witch in North America." Maya's voice was steady, but her hands were shaking. "She's why I'm really here, Sasha. She sent me to assess you. To report back on what you are and what you might become."

Sasha stepped back, magic flaring, wolf rising. "You're spying on me?"

"I'm warning you." Maya grabbed her arm, grip surprisingly strong. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it last night when you were asleep. If I wanted to report you, I would have already. But I'm choosing to tell you the truth instead, because I think you need a friend more than you need another enemy."

Sasha stared at her, heart pounding, magic crackling, wolf snarling. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to hide, to get as far away from this girl as possible.

But Maya hadn't let go. Maya was still looking at her with those honest, worried eyes.

"Why should I trust you?" Sasha whispered.

"You shouldn't. Not yet." Maya released her arm. "But I'm the best option you've got."