Chapter Thirty: Carol's POV
When he pinned me against the bed, I didn't fight back.
The burning heat inside finally found release. One side of my bloodline gained the upper hand, and the pain transformed into something else—pleasure that left me breathless and trembling.
I don't know how long it lasted. Eventually everything went quiet.
I lay on the bed, Maurice beside me, and the silence between us felt heavier than any words.
The room smelled of sex and something darker, something I didn't want to name.
I climbed off the bed, picking up the clothes scattered on the floor and putting them on with trembling hands.
Those eyes kept watching me the whole time. I couldn't look at him, couldn't meet those blue eyes that had watched me fall apart.
My legs were still weak, my thoughts a tangled mess.
What had I done? No—what had I let him do? But was that person begging really me?
Maurice sat up, reaching out to touch me. I jerked away before his fingers made contact.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself not to look at his face, not to see whatever expression might be waiting there.
Thinking of them, the ones who saved me from the gym, my chest tightened.
"Where's Leon?" I asked.
Hilda appeared in the doorway. "Leon? That wolf? You can't seriously think vampires would rescue one of their kind, can you?"
Those words hit me like a real blow.
Leon was dead. He died protecting me, and I'd been too immersed in my own transformation, too focused on my urgent needs, to even think about what happened to him.
My mind filled with images of him standing between me and those wolves, buying me time with his life. He could have run. He was faster than me, stronger than me. Those wolves were no match for him—if he hadn't cared about me.
I couldn't control myself anymore.
All I could see was him blocking the attack, silver claws tearing through his body, because I'd been stupid enough to walk into Seraphina's trap.
"I don't believe you," I said, even though I knew it was true. "I need to go back to the gym. I need to see for myself—"
I broke free from Maurice's grip and rushed toward the door, bursting out into the sunlight before anyone could stop me.
Behind me, I heard Maurice and Hilda both tense up, their voices full of alarm. Maurice tried to stop me, but it was too late—I'd already stepped into the sunlight.
My skin began to smoke.
Pain seared across every exposed surface, burning so intensely I thought I would scream.
But after a few seconds, the pain vanished.
I looked down at my hands, standing there in broad daylight, completely unharmed.
I froze, shocked.
But I didn't have time to think about what this meant.
I pushed through the door onto the street and flagged down the first cab I saw. I gave the driver the address for the university gates, and as soon as we arrived, I practically threw money at him and ran.
The gym loomed ahead. Students were in PE class, moving across the polished floor. Everything looked so impossibly normal.
The floor was clean. No blood.
No massive wolf body.
Everything had been scrubbed away, erased, as if nothing had ever happened.
"Excuse me?" a voice said behind me.
I turned to see the PE teacher looking at me with confusion. "Are you in this class?"
"Uh... sorry, wrong classroom," I mumbled and turned to leave.
Some classmates I recognized greeted me in the hallway, but I didn't have the energy to respond.
I swiped my student card to open the dorm building door and mechanically climbed the stairs.
When I pushed open the room door, Emma was sitting on her bed reading.
The smell of humans hit me—laundry detergent, old books, and Emma's faint scent. These things had once been so familiar I ignored them, but now they were like a wall, clearly separating "her" from "me."
"Oh my god, Carol!" She dropped her book and rushed over. "You look terrible! What happened?"
I opened my mouth but found I couldn't speak.
Emma pulled me down to sit on her bed.
I stared at her for several seconds, confirming she was okay, confirming nothing had happened to her, confirming she was safe. The relief was so intense my eyes started to burn.
"I... I'm fine," I finally managed to say, but my voice was shaking.
Emma's expression turned guilty. "I'm really sorry," she said quickly. "That night I went out to the terrace with that guy, I put my phone on silent, and then it got so late and we—"
Her cheeks flushed. "Actually, Jack confessed to me."
She hesitated, then continued with a shy smile. "We slept together. It was really good, Carol. He was so sweet."
Despite everything churning inside me, I managed a genuine smile for her.
"I'm happy for you," I said, and I meant it. Emma deserved good things.
She deserved to be treated well, deserved happiness, deserved to have someone care about her.
But that happiness only lasted a few seconds before I thought of Leon, thought of how I hadn't even been able to bring back his body.
Emma was still talking, saying something about Jake and their plans for another date, but I couldn't hear her anymore.
All I could think was: I killed Leon. I couldn't forgive myself.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with trembling fingers to see a text from Simon: "I'm downstairs at your dorm. Come down."
The message was direct in his usual style—no preamble, no explanation, just a command. My stomach tightened.
Simon knew I'd disappeared. Of course he knew.
Leon hadn't reported in. Simon must have sent people to find me immediately.
I stood up from Emma's bed, my legs still shaking. "I have to go," I said.
Emma looked at me with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You really don't look good."
"I'm fine," I lied, already heading for the door. "See you later."
Simon's scent hit me before I even opened the door, making my newly transformed senses instantly alert.
When I pushed open the lobby door, Simon was there, standing at the entrance with his arms crossed.
He looked exactly as I remembered—tall, imposing, the Alpha who commanded both respect and fear.
When I saw him, I had only one thought: I needed to tell Simon everything that happened last night.
The attack in the gym, those werewolves, Leon's injuries—all of it had to be reported immediately. He had to know the danger had found me despite eight years of trying to keep me safe.
The words churned in my chest, so urgent they almost spilled from my throat. I'd already formed the sentences in my mind: "Simon, werewolves attacked me last night."