Chapter 42 OH CRAP?

Chapter 42 OH CRAP?
CHAPTER 42. OH CRAP?

KAELEN'S POV

Damn it. Davis was a piece of work.

I hate that he has a hard time controlling his wolf.

I walk through the long, vaulted stone corridor that leads directly to the private chambers of Elder Cyphros. I want to deal with this once and for all so I am going to have enough free time to focus on her. We have a lot to talk about.

My mind is racing, a chaotic storm of countless thoughts and fractured images flashing behind my eyes. The sheer momentum of my own anxiety forces me to halt mid-stride, pressing my back against the cold stone wall to catch my breath.

Deep inside my chest, something is pulsing—a frantic, heavy rhythm that leaves me completely breathless. Ever since she showed up, since the exact millisecond she materialized in the middle of that crowded cafeteria, my mind has not known a single moment of rest. For months, an insatiable aching had been clawing mercilessly into my bones, a phantom hunger I tried so hard to conquer, suppress, and keep at bay. But now? It has surged back in full, unadulterated force. I am freaking losing my mind here. I want her. I need her. The memory of her face, the scent of her skin—it has been tormenting my subconscious for ages, and I can no longer maintain the illusion of control.

I lean heavily against the solid brickwork, closing my eyes as I take a slow, deep breath to steady the tremble in my limbs. I look down, my gaze tracking the dark, intricate sleeve of tattoos that maps across the muscles of my left arm, twisting down to my wrist.

Calm down, Kaelen, I command myself, the alpha in my blood demanding discipline. Just don't lose it. Control the beast.

Forcing my muscles to relax, I resume my journey down the corridor. I walk straight toward the heavy timber doors at the far end of the hallway, the arched entrance to the high chamber looming closer. I lift my hand and knock firmly against the wood.

"Come in," the deep, gruff voice of Elder Cyphros echoes through the thick paneling.

I turn the brass handle, pushing the door open, and step into the sprawling space, quietly closing the heavy entrance behind me. The room is bathed in the amber glow of low-burning hearths, casting long shadows across the floor. I instantly spot the Elder pacing to and fro across the heavy woven rug, his tensed posture revealing a man deeply disturbed by the day's anomalies. I frown slightly, coming to a halt near the perimeter of the room as I fold my arms tightly over my chest.

"Are you okay, sir?" I ask, my voice echoing quietly in the vaulted room.

He stops his frantic pacing, his boots snapping against the floorboards as he turns around to face me. He examines my posture for a long, calculating beat before letting out a heavy, weary exhale. He folds his arms behind his back, his shoulders slumping just a fraction beneath his heavy robes.

Looking at him, a sharp pang of genuine pity hits my chest. The man carries an impossible weight on his broad shoulders; as a hybrid leader, he is tasked with watching over all factions of the supernatural academy, constantly balancing on a razor's edge to ensure that the ancient rivalries don't ignite into a conflict that could trigger the third great war in supernatural history. The entire organization of the Norman Elite Academy had been the cornerstone of a fragile peace treaty—a neutral ground designed to force all supernatural species to assemble, interact, and coexist under one roof. Yet, the peace is constantly threatened by the impending warfare with the rogue witches, who refuse to succumb or submit to the Council's unified treaty.

"Um, I don't know, Kaelen," Cyphros begins, his voice sounding entirely drained. "I just... I have entirely too much going on in my head right now, and this sudden, impossible complication with the human girl is making me want to lose my absolute mind."

He sighs heavily, walking over toward his large, luxurious golden sofa. He sinks into the plush velvet, crossing one massive leg over the other as he rests his back against the cushions, staring blankly into the dancing flames of the fireplace. I remain standing exactly where I am, observing his exhaustion. I wish there was a tangible way for me to help him shoulder the burden.

But alas, it is not my place to interfere with the political administrative activities of the academy authorities. My primary duty, my sole absolute responsibility, belongs entirely to my pack—the Crescent Werewolf Pack that will soon be left completely over to my command once my father decides it is time for him to formally step down from the throne. I clench my fists tightly, keeping my expressions neutral as I wait for him to speak.

"I want to hear your unfiltered opinion, Kaelen," Elder Cyphros says suddenly, his eyes dropping to the intricate patterns on the carpet. "You are the only wise, capable mind I can truly depend on right now. You are the future leader of the werewolves, and I see the way your pack operates—the wolves are the only supernaturals who still maintain this profound sense of loyalty, body, and absolute unity."

He shifts his weight, lifting his magma-like eyes to lock onto mine. "What is your honest opinion about this girl? Why do you strongly believe, down to your marrow, that everything about her biology is not normal? I just need answers, Kaelen. Because what I am desperately trying to avoid here is the wrath of the Supernatural Goddess. You know exactly how unyielding the ancient rules of separation have been."

I nod my head slowly, my features setting into a serious line. "I get you, sir. I understand the gravity of the risk."

He exhales, leaning his head back against the sofa. "I am listening."

I swallow hard, a cold sweat threatening to break out across the back of my neck.

How do I even begin to explain this? Do I start by telling him about the countless, hyper-vivid dreams I’ve had about her over the past year? No. The mere thought makes my jaw tighten; it would be incredibly, deeply embarrassing. There is absolutely no way I am going to admit to the highest authority in the kingdom that I have been having intense, erotic dreams about a girl I had never physically met in my entire life up until twenty-four hours ago.

There is no way I can tell him that I know the contour of her body because my subconscious has been holding her hostage in my sleep.

I close my eyes for a brief second, letting out a controlled breath. I have to think of a tactical way to twist the narrative, to protect her secret while justifying my own frantic protection of her.

"I don't know the full scope of it, Elder, but the entire situation is weird," I begin, my voice steady and resonant. "It’s just... I have been observing certain traits. It really happened the first time I met her." I divert the sentence quickly, anchoring the explanation to reality.

Cyphros scrutinizes me, his red-tinted eyes narrowing into dangerous, piercing slits that seem to look straight through my skin. I swallow past the dryness in my throat, but I manage to maintain my composure, refusing to let the alpha aura waiver.

"It happened during the skirmish with the Blood Witches at the Craven Coven territory," I explain, my hands tightening against my arms.

The Elder leans forward instantly, his chest shifting over his knees, his full attention locked onto my words like a predator scenting blood.

"She materialized out of nowhere—completely alone, obviously," I continue, painting the scene with deliberate care. "And, well, she did something that completely caught my attention. She actively deflected a direct, concentrated magical attack from the Blood Witches—a spell that should have been completely, instantly lethal to any normal human being. She shattered the blast with her bare hands, Elder. The energy was targeted directly at my chest, it was supposed to incinerate me, but her interference turned it to ash."

Elder Cyphros frowns deeply, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as his eyelids squint into an icy, calculating glare.

"I have existed for centuries, Kaelen," the Elder says, his voice dropping to a low, ominous growl that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. "And in all my years, I have never known of any supernatural species capable enough to directly deflect and shatter a concentrated attack from the Blood Witches... except for another witch."

The moment that sentence leaves his lips, the ground beneath my boots feels like it’s completely turning upside down. My chest tightens, and I swallow hard against a sudden surge of panic, my mind racing at a frantic speed.

Oh, crap. The thought screams in my head. Did I just completely mess up?