Chapter 15: Mystery

Skylar

My body jerked as the door to the Silent Room was slammed open.

Irlan hadn’t even fully stepped away from me when the door swung wide and smashed into the stone wall.

I staggered backwards a few steps.

Michael stood there, breathing hard, his eyes glowing gold-yellow. The low growl of an Alpha wolf echoed through the room.

He didn’t waste time assessing the situation. His gaze snapped to Irlan, who was still standing far too close to me, then dropped to me—dishevelled, exhausted, barely holding it together.

“Get away from her, vampire,” Michael snarled, his voice low and vibrating with very real threat.

Irlan didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened, letting his icy aura spill out to counter the heat rolling off Michael. His face slipped back into that emotionless mask—except for a faint, possessive glint I’d never seen before.

“She’s under my training, Cunningham,” Irlan replied calmly, his voice cold as frost. “You have no right to interfere.”

“Training?” Michael stepped forward. The stone floor of the Silent Room seemed to tremble under his energy. “She’s under Professor Rowland’s supervision. You don’t get to stick your fangs into this.”

Michael grabbed my hand—rough, but protective. I hissed quietly. He noticed instantly.

Red marks bloomed across the back of my hand from the magic overheating earlier, and faint bruises ringed my wrist where the sensor bracelet had dug in when my magic spiked past the limit.

Michael’s wolf instincts exploded.

I could feel his body temperature spike. He pulled me behind him, planting himself like a living shield between me and the vampire prince.

“You hurt her,” Michael accused, his fangs beginning to lengthen. “You provoked her wolf on purpose.”

“I taught her about emptiness,” Irlan shot back, his eyes burning crimson. “Something a mutt who relies on muscle and instinct will never understand.”

Just as Michael was about to lunge, thick black shadows began creeping out from the corners of the room. They spiralled like a dark whirlpool, carrying a heady scent and a familiar, suffocating aura.

Elroth stepped out of the darkness as if he’d always belonged to it.

He wasn’t alone.

Gils stood beside him, looking dazed—his expression a sharp contrast to Elroth’s crooked grin.

“Well, bloody hell,” Elroth drawled, folding his arms. “What party did I miss in the most boring room in the academy?”

He leaned against the cracked wall, clearly enjoying the tension between Michael and Irlan.

“Stop it! Both of you!” Gils shouted. He rushed over to me, checking me over. “Skylar, are you alright? Your teeth…wait, where’s Gigi?”

Gigi, now back to her normal size, hopped lazily off the wooden table. The canary looked utterly unbothered by the chaos, like she’d already had her fill after feeding on my magic earlier.

“This vampire was torturing Skylar under the excuse of training,” Michael snapped at Gils, though his eyes never left Irlan.

“She needs to learn how to control the chaos inside her,” Irlan argued, stepping forward. “Otherwise, she’ll destroy herself.”

“Or maybe you just wanted an excuse to touch her because you miss Valentina,” Elroth cut in casually. “Pathetic lovesick bastard.”

The room went dead silent.

Irlan froze.

The air shifted—thicker, sharper. That name—Valentina—had been whispered in my ear earlier, when Irlan had held me in the middle of the magical storm.

Michael didn’t give a toss who Valentina was.

He only cared about the fact that Irlan had touched his mate—me—something I absolutely did not acknowledge.

“I don’t care what your excuse is,” Michael growled. “Touch her again, and I’ll rip your throat out. Prince or not.”

Claws slid free.

“Try it, dog,” Irlan challenged.

They both moved.

Michael began partially shifting, coarse fur spreading over his arms. Irlan blurred with inhuman speed.

“Enough!” Gils shouted.

Suddenly, the temperature in the Silent Room shot up.

Gils—usually warm and gentle like burning wood—now radiated blistering heat. His body expanded, golden scales erupting across his skin.

In seconds, a powerful young dragon stood between Michael and Irlan.

Gils opened his jaws and blasted a tongue of fire into the floor between them. The flames didn’t burn, but the pressure alone slammed both men back into opposite walls.

“Stop fighting,” the dragon roared, shaking the entire chamber, “or I’ll burn you both to ash!”

The fire faded, leaving behind the stench of scorched stone and an awkward silence.

Michael huffed, struggling to steady his breathing. Irlan brushed ash from his clothes, his expression once again cold and unreadable.

Elroth finally moved.

He walked toward me, passing Michael who watched him like he might explode at any second. Elroth took my hand. The same one Michael had just examined.

He studied the angry red marks carefully.

I expected mockery. A cruel joke. Something to make me feel small.

But for a moment, the playful mask cracked.

There was a flicker of sympathy in his dark eyes—thin, fleeting, and utterly foreign on someone like Elroth.

“That looks painful, Little Wolf,” he murmured, his voice stripped of sarcasm. “Irlan’s never known how to handle anything with a heartbeat.”

He released my hand and straightened, that familiar crooked grin snapping back into place like nothing had happened.

“Gils, take her to the infirmary. Before Alpha and Dracula here decide to level the building.”

Gils shifted back into human form, looking drained.

“Come on, Skylar. Let’s get you out of here.”

I picked up Gigi’s cage. The canary chirped softly at Elroth, tilting her head at him.

I didn’t know what to think anymore.

About Gigi or about the four boys who’d nearly torn the room apart.

I followed Gils out. Michael stayed close behind me, alert as a shadow, making sure Irlan didn’t try anything else.

As I passed Elroth, he whispered so quietly only I could hear.

“Careful, Skylar. Out of all of them, you’re the most dangerous because you don’t know what you’re carrying.”

I didn’t reply.

I kept walking, out of the freezing underground corridor and into the cleaner night air.

Behind me, I could feel the stares of three men.

Michael, burning with possession.

Irlan, haunted by his past and Elroth, wrapped in his grey, unreadable mystery.

“Your life’s never boring, Sky,” Gils said lightly. “I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed. It’s driving me mad.”

“You’re not going mad, Split-Fang,” Michael said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders. “You just need to control your emotions so I don’t keep worrying.”

Annoyingly, I didn’t refuse. The night air was bloody cold.

“I don’t need your advice, Alpha. Maybe I wouldn’t be stalked if I wasn’t a wolf at all,” I lied.

“Don’t bullshit me, Juliette,” Michael replied calmly. “Your father called you Juliette, didn’t he? That name’s far more wolf than Skylar, sounds like a lost bloody witch.”