Chapter 20: ZEPHYRA NOCTARYN’S POV

The hallway went so quiet after Lyssandra’s words that I could hear the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above us.

For one suspended second, no one moved.

No one breathed.

No one even blinked.

Then the silence shattered.

Gasps. Murmurs. Phones lifting. Whispers spreading from one end of the corridor to the other like sparks catching dry grass. Students began turning toward us from every direction, some stepping closer, some pretending not to stare while openly listening, all of them hungry for whatever humiliation was about to come next.

And at the center of it all stood Lyssandra, looking calm. Composed. Beautiful in the most poisonous way. Her pale face carried just the right amount of hurt, just the right amount of pride, like she was the wounded girl forced to speak a truth no one wanted to hear.

I wanted to slap that expression off her face.

Instead, I stood there frozen, my fingers digging so hard into the edge of my locker that my knuckles ached.

She had already said enough to make the entire school turn my life into entertainment again.

But the look in her eyes told me she wasn’t done.

“You should stop pretending you know Kaelric,” she said, her voice rising just enough for the crowd to catch every word. “You don’t. Not the way I do.”

My throat tightened.

“Lyssandra,” Elowen snapped from beside me, “shut up before I make you.”

Lyssandra didn’t even look at her. Her eyes stayed on mine, sharp and deliberate, like she wanted to watch the damage happen in real time.

“We were together long before he ever looked at you,” she continued. “We weren’t just dating. We were bonded.”

The word hit the crowd like a match to gasoline.

Bonded.

At Blackthorn Academy, that word carried weight. Especially among the elite families. Especially among werewolf bloodlines that still clung to old traditions and whispered about destiny like it was law. People around us leaned in, already sensing where this was going, already building the scandal in their heads before she even finished saying it.

I felt cold all over.

Lyssandra took a small breath, then dropped the bomb like she had rehearsed it.

“Kaelric and I were fated mates.”

The hallway erupted.

A girl near the stairwell actually gasped so loudly it echoed.

Someone whispered, “No way.”

Someone else said, “That’s why he kissed her.”

Phones came out faster now. Screens lit up. Fingers flew over keyboards. I could practically hear the school blog updating itself in real time.

I stared at Lyssandra, trying to find the crack. Trying to find the lie in her face.

But she looked so heartbreakingly certain that for one horrifying second, doubt slid straight into my chest.

Because Kaelric had never told me much about her.

He had only called her his ex.

Nothing more.

And now every moment between them began replaying in my mind with a fresh edge of pain. The way she still got under his skin. The way she confronted him so boldly. The way he’d frozen for that split second when she kissed him at the banquet before he pushed her away.

My heart started pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

No.

No, this was insane.

It had to be.

But Lyssandra wasn’t finished.

Her face shifted then, just enough for a sheen of sorrow to appear in her eyes, and I knew immediately she was about to say something even worse. I knew it the way animals know a storm is coming before the first thunder breaks.

“When we were together,” she said softly, “I got pregnant.”

The world tilted.

Everything around me blurred for one sick, spinning second.

I heard Elowen swear beside me, but it sounded distant, muffled, like I was underwater.

Lyssandra let the silence breathe just long enough to make sure every single person in that hallway had time to absorb it. To imagine it. To weaponize it.

Then she delivered the final blow.

“I aborted Kaelric’s child.”

A collective shock rolled through the crowd so violently it felt physical.

Gasps.

Hands over mouths.

Whispers turning frantic.

“Oh my God.”

“She was pregnant?”

“With Kaelric’s baby?”

“That’s insane.”

“No wonder he went back to her.”

The words hit me from every side, cruel and hot and impossible to block out. My chest felt hollow. My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might actually throw up right there in the middle of the hallway.

I wanted to say something.

Wanted to call her a liar.

Wanted to scream that she was manipulating everyone, that this was another stunt, another trap, another twisted performance designed to ruin me.

But the problem was that I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what was true.

And that was what crushed me.

Because no matter how much I wanted to trust Kaelric, no matter how much I wanted to believe that the almost-kiss in the garden had meant something, I was suddenly standing in the center of a story where I knew nothing. A story in which I looked like the pathetic outsider all over again. The rebound. The placeholder. The girl he chose while carrying a history with someone else that I could never compete with.

A mate.

A child.

A loss.

How was I supposed to stand against that?

I forced myself to keep my face blank, but inside, something was splintering so fast I could barely hold it together. I had survived Thorne’s betrayal. Aurelia’s cruelty. The locker room. The rumors. The school blog. The photo from the banquet. But this felt different. This didn’t feel like public embarrassment.

This felt personal.

This felt like being cut open where no one could see.

Lyssandra stepped closer, lowering her voice just enough that only I and the people nearest us could hear, which somehow made it crueler.

“You really thought he’d choose you over me?” she asked softly.

That did it.

Before I could react, Elowen lunged.

“You psychotic bitch!”

Two students grabbed her before she could get to Lyssandra, and the hallway exploded into chaos. Shouting. More phones filming. People pushing closer. Someone yelling for a prefect. Someone laughing. Someone already saying the school blog would crash from traffic.

And in the middle of that mess, I just stood there.

Numb.

I didn’t remember walking away.

I only knew that a few seconds later I was moving, one foot in front of the other, the noise fading behind me as I pushed through the crowd with all the dignity I had left. My vision was blurring now, but I refused to let the tears fall. Not there. Not in front of them. Not in front of her.

I made it to the end of the corridor just as a roar of fury ripped through the hall behind me.

A voice.

Kaelric.

The crowd parted like water.

I turned.

He was storming down the hallway toward Lyssandra, eyes blazing, jaw clenched so tight it looked brutal, every inch of him vibrating with rage. He looked nothing like the smooth, controlled boy who always knew how to perform. This was something else. Something raw. Something dangerous.

Lyssandra’s expression flickered for the first time.

Fear.

Kaelric stopped right in front of her, chest heaving, and when he spoke, his voice was so cold it silenced the entire hall.

“What the hell did you just say?”