Chapter 25 Chapter 25: Claws and Cover-Ups

Chapter 25 Chapter 25: Claws and Cover-Ups

The counseling center smelled like lavender oil and artificial calm—exactly the kind of scent meant to smother real feelings. Mandatory grief session, post-Langford. The counselor, a soft-voiced woman named Mara with too-kind eyes, had arranged the chairs in a loose circle so we could “share safely.” Eight girls, including me.
 I chose the seat farthest from the door, hood up, arms crossed tight enough that my nails bit into my biceps. Mara started with the script. “Langford’s death was a tragedy. Processing helps us heal as a community. Who would like to begin? ”Silence stretched. Then one girl—Clara, second-year scholarship, the same surname as the dean but no relation—spoke in a whisper that carried anyway.

“I had a session with him once. Tea. Chamomile, he said. I woke up in my dorm with no memory of leaving his office. My roommate said I came back at three a.m., smiling as if nothing happened. I thought it was just… stress. But after the note, the confession… I keep wondering if I imagined the part where he locked the door. 
”Another girl nodded, eyes down. “Same. He said it was for anxiety. The next thing I remember is my alarm going off. Bruises on my wrists, I couldn’t explain. ”Mara leaned forward, gently. “It’s brave to name those memories. Trauma can fragment recall. We’re here to piece it back together without judgment.

”I stayed silent. My wolf didn’t. It coiled tighter with every word, every vague echo of tea and blackouts and locked doors. The same tea I’d almost drunk. The same laugh I’d heard right before the crack. I kept my breathing even, eyes on the carpet’s ugly gray pattern, but inside I was cataloging: who else remembered? Who else saw the hit? Who carried me out?
Clara glanced my way—brief, searching. When the circle moved on, she shifted her chair closer during the break for water. Her voice dropped so low that only I could hear. “I remember tea,” she whispered. “And someone is hitting him. Hard. 

A shadow in the doorway. Then nothing. But no one believes me. They say the note proves suicide. I think… maybe you believe me. ”My pulse kicked. “Why me? “Because you look like someone who’s seen worse and kept walking.” She swallowed. “And because the night he died, someone saw you running from the admin wing earlier that week. 
People talk. ”I didn’t flinch. “I didn’t see anything. ”She searched my face. “Okay. But if you did… be careful. I think someone’s still watching. ”Before I could answer, Mara called us back. Clara moved away. I stayed rooted, the whisper looping in my head. 

Someone is hitting him. A shadow. Who else saw? Who carried me? I felt eyes on the back of my neck. Elara Voss stood just inside the doorway—black tactical gear, platinum braid, small leather notebook in hand. She wasn’t supposed to be here. This was student-only. But she leaned against the frame like she belonged, pen moving slowly across the page. Taking notes. On us. On me. Our eyes met. 

Her smile was small, polite, lethal. I looked away first. Not submission. Calculation. Let her think I was rattled. The session dragged another twenty minutes. When it ended, I slipped out fast, hood up, avoiding Clara’s gaze. In the hallway mirror, I caught my reflection—eyes too bright, pupils edged in gold. The wolf had risen without permission. Claws pricked behind my nails; I clenched my fists until they retracted.

Breathing: in-four, hold-four, out-four. The flicker faded. But the heat stayed. If Elara had seen that gold flash from the door…I didn’t finish the thought. I just walked faster. 
Evening assessment was held in the main arena under floodlights. Snow had stopped; the dirt floor was packed hard and cold. Twenty-three of us again. Elara took center stage while Kieran stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching everything. “Demonstration,” Elara announced. “Thorne and I will show controlled combat. Observe form. Note dominance.
”She stepped into the circle. Kieran followed without expression. They circled once—slow, deliberate. Then she lunged. Fast. Too fast for show. Silver-edged practice blades flashed. Kieran parried, pivoted, countered. Clean. Professional. 
Elara laughed—playful, taunting. “Come on, Thorne. Don’t hold back for the children. ”She closed the distance deliberately. Body brushing his. Claws extended—not full shift, just enough to graze. One set raked lightly across his throat—testing, teasing. Not breaking skin. Yet. From the sidelines, my wolf went feral.
Her claws near his throat made me want to rip her apart. The image flashed vivid: my teeth in her neck, her blood on snow. I breathed through it. Kept my face neutral. Hands fisted at my sides. But inside the rage burned white-hot. That was my scent on him. My claim. Not hers. 
They broke apart. Elara’s eyes flicked to me—knowing. Triumphant. Kieran’s jaw was locked so tight I saw the muscle jump. He sheathed his blade without looking at her. “Dismissed,” Elara said. “Reflect on what true pack loyalty looks like.
”I left before the crowd thinned. In the tunnels that night, we met under harsher flashlight beams. Dex’s laptop glowed blue against the stone. “Elara’s comm logs,” he said, turning the screen. “Hacked an hour ago. She’s been messaging Voss directly. ”I leaned in. The text was short and clinical. Thorne’s distracted. The girl’s awakening fast—recommend an accelerated blood test. My stomach dropped. Blood test. Binding. Tracking. The same magic that had locked me to campus the night I witnessed the ritual.
 Ivy crossed her arms. “They’re moving faster because you’re stronger than they expected. ”Rowan nodded. “My council contacts confirmed: blood draws are standard before final prep. They use it to map lineage, strengthen runes, sometimes… force shifts. ”Lyra sat silent, knees drawn up. When I looked at her, she broke.
“Elara came to my room this afternoon,” she said, voice cracking. “She showed me a photo of my brother—new bruises. Said if I don’t report your exact training shifts, your forest runs, everything… they’ll move him to a containment cell. No visits. No light.” Tears spilled. “I’m sorry, Sage. I told her you train at dawn and dusk. 

The clearing behind the shed. I didn’t have a choice. ”I knelt beside her. Took her hands. They shook. “You had no choice,” I said. “But we do now. We get him out. Together. ”She nodded, tears falling faster. Rowan put a hand on her shoulder—gentle. Ivy passed her a water bottle. Dex kept typing. I stood. “We assume the blood draw is tomorrow or the next day. We need leverage before then. Dex—anything else in those logs?” “More threats. Voss told her to ‘handle Thorne if he wavers.’ She replied that she’s already testing him. 
”Testing. With her claws at his throat. With her scent on his skin. I left the tunnels first. Needed air. Needed to think. Midnight. Dorm dark. Lyra is asleep, breathing unevenly from crying. The window slid open—silent, practiced. Kieran slipped inside like a shadow. Snow dusted his coat. He didn’t speak at first. Just crossed to me, eyes searching my face.
“Elara cornered me after the assessment,” he said low. “Suggested pairing. For pack strength. Said it would stabilize me. Refocus my loyalty. ”Jealousy clawed up my throat so fast my canines ached. The thought of her touching him—really touching him—made my vision tunnel gold at the edges. I forced the words out steadily. “Don’t let her win.
”He stepped closer. Close enough, I could smell pine and snow and him. His hand lifted—slow—cupped the back of my neck. Thumb brushed my pulse. “I won’t.” His voice was rough. “You’re mine. ”He leaned in. Pressed his lips to my temple—soft, deliberate. Whispered against my skin: “Mine. ”Heat flooded me. I closed my eyes, let it burn through the jealousy, through the fear. His mouth lingered. Breathe warm. 

Then he pulled back—before either of us could cross the line we weren’t ready to cross yet. “Sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s worse. ”He left the way he came. I lay awake a long time. The silver charm at my throat felt heavier. Sleep came eventually—fitful, shallow. My phone buzzed once. Sharp. I jolted awake. Unknown number. One audio file. I tapped play. Volume low.
Elara’s voice first—cool, clipped. “He’s slipping because of her. The distraction’s compromising everything. Let me handle Thorne—permanently if needed. ”Voss answered—calm, paternal, monstrous. “Do what’s necessary. ”The recording cut. My hand shook as I saved it