Chapter 75
Elara's POV
I crept down the stairs at seven-thirty in the morning. My footsteps made barely any sound on the old wooden steps.
The smell of coffee hit me halfway down. Mom was already in the kitchen. I could hear her humming something soft while she moved around.
I wore black athletic leggings and a dark gray hoodie. My backpack hung light on one shoulder. Just the essentials. Water bottle. Protein bar. The burner phone Warren gave me.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs. Listened.
No sound from upstairs. Dad and Ethan were still asleep.
Good.
I slipped into the kitchen doorway. Mom stood at the counter, her back to me, pouring coffee into Dad's favorite mug.
"Morning, sweetie," she said without turning around. "You're up early."
My throat tightened. She always knew. Even when I tried to be quiet.
"Yeah. School thing."
She turned then. Her eyes went to my backpack. "This early?"
I pulled the note from my pocket. Set it on the counter between us. "Outdoor field study. We're leaving at eight. Might not be back until late tonight."
I watched her pick up the note. Read it. Her lips pressed together.
"You didn't mention this yesterday."
"I forgot." The lie tasted bitter. "Sorry."
She looked at me for a long moment. I forced myself to meet her eyes. To not look away like I wanted to.
Finally, she sighed. "Do you have your inhaler?"
I patted my pocket. "Yes."
"And you'll text me when you get there?"
"Promise."
She walked over. Pulled me into a hug I didn't expect.
I stood there. Arms at my sides. Not sure what to do with them.
Her hand smoothed down my hair. "Be careful, okay?"
My chest hurt. Not from asthma. From something else.
"I will."
She let me go. Stepped back. "There's breakfast if you want—"
"I'm good. Already ate." Another lie. "I should go."
I turned before she could say anything else. Before the guilt could root me to the floor.
The front door closed behind me with a soft click.
I stood on the porch. Breathed in the cold morning air.
Lying to them felt wrong. But Council training wasn't something I could explain. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
I started walking toward the school.
---
The black bus sat at the main gate like a predator waiting.
Students clustered around it in small groups. Most of them looked half-asleep. A few talked in low voices.
I recognized some faces from school. Others were strangers.
Warren stood beside the bus door with a clipboard. His eyes swept over each student as they approached.
When he saw me, he didn't smile. Just checked something off on his list.
"Grey," he said. "Get on."
I climbed the steps. The bus smelled like leather and something chemical. New.
The interior was nicer than any school bus I'd seen. Actual cushioned seats. Tinted windows. Air conditioning that actually worked.
I walked down the aisle. Most of the front seats were empty. A few students had claimed spots near the back.
I chose the middle. Window seat on the left side.
I dropped my backpack on the floor between my feet. Pulled out my phone.
Me: Hey. I need to tell you something.
Chloe's response came in three seconds.
Chloe: ??? what's wrong
Me: Nothing's wrong. I'm going to be gone for a while. Missing some classes.
Chloe: WHAT
Chloe: are you sick?? did something happen??
I could picture her face. Eyes wide. Already spiraling into worst-case scenarios.
Me: I'm fine. School selected me for a special training program. It's a good thing. But I'll be in and out for the next few weeks.
Chloe: training for what???
Me: Can't really explain right now. But I need a favor.
Chloe: anything
Me: If Ethan asks where I am, or if my parents call you, just say I'm at the library studying. Or at some school activity. I want to surprise them when it's over.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Chloe: this sounds super sketchy elara
Chloe: but okay. i trust you.
Chloe: just... be safe? whatever this is?
Me: I will. Promise. Thank you.
I locked my phone. Shoved it back in my pocket.
More students filed onto the bus. The noise level rose. Conversations overlapped.
I leaned my head against the window. Watched the school grounds through the tinted glass.
Then I heard heels on the bus steps.
Click. Click. Click.
I turned my head.
Victoria Harrington stepped into the aisle.
My stomach dropped.
She wore a cream-colored trench coat. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun. She carried a leather folder under one arm.
Our eyes met.
For half a second, something crossed her face. Surprise. Maybe recognition.
Then it was gone.
Her gaze moved over my face. Lingered. Like she was trying to place me.
I looked away first. Stared out the window like I hadn't seen her.
My pulse hammered in my ears.
She moved down the aisle. I heard her heels pass my row. Keep going toward the front.
I didn't look up.
What the hell was she doing here?
Then I remembered. She taught at St. George. Art classes. Of course the Council would bring in faculty for whatever this training was.
Of course it would be her.
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass.
The last time I'd seen Victoria Harrington, I'd been eavesdropping outside the art building at dawn. Listening to her scream at Kael.
"Today is my son's birthday. My real son. He should be eighteen. He should be preparing for college. But he's dead. And you're still here. Why? Why do you get to live when he doesn't?"
The venom in her voice had been sharp enough to cut.
And Kael had just stood there. Taking it. Like he deserved every word.
I'd stepped out before I could stop myself. Told her it wasn't fair to blame him for existing.
She'd looked at me like I was an insect. Told me to stay away from her son.
Her son.
The one she wouldn't even acknowledge in public.
I closed my eyes. Took a slow breath.
That confrontation had been stupid. Reckless. I'd inserted myself into something that wasn't my business.
But I didn't regret it.
Kael's face when she'd said those things...
I couldn't just stand there.
Even if it made everything more complicated.
The bus filled up over the next ten minutes.
I kept my head down. Listened to the conversations around me without really processing them.
"—heard this training is actually legit. Like, real combat scenarios—"
"—my dad said only the top students get selected—"
"—yeah, well, my cousin went through it last year and said it was brutal—"
A guy's voice cut through the chatter. Loud. Confident.
"I'm just saying, if they're looking for future operatives, they picked the right person."
I glanced up.
Blond guy. Tall. Probably a senior. He sat three rows ahead on the opposite side. His arm draped over the seat back as he talked to the girl next to him.
She rolled her eyes. "Right. Because you're so special."
"I am." He grinned. "Beta bloodline. Top marks in combat class. Coach Warren literally told me I have potential."
"He tells everyone that."
"Not like he told me."
I looked away. Back out the window.
Typical Alpha-wannabe posturing. Every training program had at least one.
Then I heard another voice. Quieter. Female.
"You know Alice is here, right?"
The blond guy's grin faded. "What?"
"Alice. She got selected too."
Silence.
I turned my head slightly. Looked toward the back of the bus.
A girl sat in the very last row. Alone. Black hair pulled into a severe ponytail. Dark clothes. Arms crossed.
She stared straight ahead. Didn't acknowledge anyone around her.
Something about her stillness felt deliberate. Like she was coiled tight. Waiting.
The blond guy muttered something I couldn't hear.
The girl next to him laughed. "Scared?"
"Shut up. I'm not scared of anyone."
But his voice had lost its swagger.
I filed that away. Made a mental note.
Alice Crane. Someone to watch.
The bus engine rumbled to life.
Warren climbed aboard. Stood at the front. Looked down the aisle at all of us.
"Listen up," he said. His voice cut through the noise like a blade. "This training is voluntary. But if you're on this bus, you've committed. There's no quitting halfway through. No calling mommy and daddy when it gets hard. Understood?"
A scattered chorus of "yes sir" and "understood" echoed back.
Warren nodded. "Good. We've got a two-hour drive ahead of us. Use it to rest. You're going to need it."
He sat down in the front seat. Next to Victoria.
They spoke in low voices. I couldn't hear what they said.
The bus pulled away from the school.
I leaned back in my seat. Closed my eyes.
Two hours.
Then whatever this was would begin.