Chapter 12 The Cover Story (Brynn POV)
We were barely ten steps away from Dean Whitmore's office when Harper appeared, materializing from around the corner like she'd been waiting there.
"I heard." She grabbed my arm, her grip tight with urgency. "The Dean's secretary texted me. She said you were having some kind of episode."
"I'm fine"
"Your eyes, B. Did they change?"
I glanced at Jaxon, who nodded grimly. "Gold. Just for a second, but the Dean saw."
"Shit." Harper pulled us into an empty alcove, checking to make sure no one was nearby. "Did he say anything? Ask questions?"
"He asked if I was wearing colored contacts," I said. "Then sent me to the nurse."
"We need to go back." Harper was already turning around. "Right now."
"What? Why?"
"Because if we don't control the narrative, he's going to start asking more questions. Questions we can't answer." She pulled a small case from her messenger bag the kind diabetics used to carry insulin. "I have one emergency suppressant left. It's weak and only lasts a few hours, but it should be enough to convince him nothing supernatural happened."
"You want to inject me in the Dean's office?" I stared at her. "That's insane."
"What's insane is letting him wonder why a student's eyes turned gold during a stress response." She opened the case, revealing a single syringe filled with clear liquid. "Trust me, B. This is the only play we have."
Jaxon's hand landed on my shoulder. "She's right. We need to give him a plausible explanation before he starts connecting dots we don't want connected."
Everything in me rebelled against going back into that office, against subjecting myself to more questions and judgment. But the alternative letting Dean Whitmore investigate what he'd seen was worse.
"Fine." I turned back toward the administrative offices. "But you're doing the talking, Harper."
We found Dean Whitmore still at his desk, typing something on his computer. He looked up when we knocked, surprise crossing his features.
"Miss Calloway. I thought I sent you to the nurse."
"She was on her way," Harper said quickly, stepping forward. "But I intercepted her because I need to explain something about Brynn's medical history."
The Dean's expression shifted to concern. "Medical history? Is there something I should know about?"
"Yes, sir. Brynn has a rare medical condition called stress-induced anisocoria. It causes her pupils to dilate unevenly and sometimes appear to change color when she's under extreme stress." Harper spoke with the confidence of someone who'd rehearsed this lie a hundred times. "It's harmless, but it can be alarming if you don't know what you're seeing."
"I've never heard of that condition."
"Most people haven't. It's genetic and fairly rare." Harper pulled out her phone, showing him what looked like a medical website. "Here's information from the Mayo Clinic about anisocoria and its various presentations."
I had no idea if that website was real or if Harper had somehow faked it, but Dean Whitmore leaned forward to read the screen.
"It says here that stress-induced anisocoria is usually accompanied by other symptoms," he said slowly. "Headache, nausea, sensitivity to light."
"Which Brynn experiences regularly," Harper confirmed. "That's part of why she's in counseling with Dr. Reeves. Managing the stress responses that trigger her condition."
"Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"
"It's documented in her medical files with the school nurse. Dr. Reeves knows about it." Harper glanced at me. "Brynn's usually good at managing the triggers, but today has been particularly stressful."
Dean Whitmore looked at me, and I saw the exact moment he decided to accept the explanation. Relief and residual concern warred in his expression.
"I see. Well, that explains what I observed." He closed his laptop. "Miss Calloway, you should still go to the nurse. Have her check your vitals and make sure you're alright."
"Actually," Harper said, pulling out the syringe case, "I have her emergency medication right here. With your permission, I'd like to administer it now. It helps reduce the stress response and prevent the symptoms from worsening."
The Dean frowned. "Are you qualified to administer injections?"
"I'm certified in emergency medical response through my family's organization. I've been trained to help Brynn manage her condition since we're roommates." Harper spoke with such authority that I almost believed her myself. "But if you'd prefer, we can go to the nurse's office and have her do it."
"No, no. If you're certified and you have the medication readily available, go ahead." He gestured toward the chairs. "Should I call someone? A parent or guardian?"
"That won't be necessary. This is standard management for her condition." Harper guided me to sit down, already preparing the syringe with practiced efficiency. "Brynn, sleeve up please."
I rolled up my sleeve, watching Harper swab my upper arm with an alcohol wipe. She worked quickly, professionally, like she'd done this a thousand times before.
"Small pinch," she warned, then slid the needle into my muscle.
The liquid burned going in nothing like the suppressants I'd taken as a child, which had always felt cold. This was fire racing through my bloodstream, making my heart rate spike before gradually settling.
"There." Harper disposed of the needle in a sharps container she'd apparently been carrying in her bag. "She should feel better within a few minutes."
Already, I could feel the effects. The heightened awareness that had been building all morning began to dampen. Sounds became less sharp, scents less overwhelming. My vision shifted back to purely human perception.
It felt like being wrapped in cotton muffled and distant from my own senses.
"Thank you, Miss Dixon." Dean Whitmore stood, moving around his desk. "Miss Calloway, I want you to take the rest of the day off. Go back to your dorm, rest, and we'll reassess tomorrow."
"I have midterms"
"Which you can make up when you're feeling better." His tone left no room for argument. "Mr. Hale, you're dismissed as well. And remember what we discussed about appropriate boundaries."
Jaxon nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."
We left the office together, none of us speaking until we were outside the administrative building and well away from potential eavesdroppers.
"That was brilliant," Jaxon said finally. "Stress-induced anisocoria. Where did you even come up with that?"
"It's a real condition, just not what Brynn has." Harper's hands were shaking now that the crisis had passed. "I've been preparing cover stories since I was assigned to monitor her. My family trains Keepers to have explanations ready for every possible supernatural exposure."
"The website you showed him was that real?"
"Real enough. I have a collection of medical resources bookmarked specifically for situations like this." She looked at me. "How do you feel?"
"Numb. Disconnected." I flexed my fingers, trying to feel anything through the chemical haze. "How long does this last?"
"Three, maybe four hours. Then it wears off completely." Harper's expression was grave. "That was my last emergency dose, B. Next time your eyes flash or you start to transform, we won't have a chemical safety net."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. "How long until the full moon?"
"Seventy-two hours." Jaxon checked his phone. "Three days."
Three days without any way to suppress the wolf if it tried to emerge. Three days to learn enough control that I wouldn't accidentally transform in front of witnesses. Three days before everything changed whether I was ready or not.
"We need a plan," Harper said. "A real one, not just hoping Brynn can white-knuckle her way through this."
"I'm working on it." Jaxon started walking toward the quad, and we fell into step beside him. "There's a place my pack uses for first transformations. Secure, soundproofed, miles from the nearest human settlement. If we can get Brynn there for the full moon"
"How are we supposed to get her off campus?" Harper interrupted. "She's on medical watch. She can't leave without authorization."
"Then we get authorization."
"From who? Dean Whitmore? Dr. Reeves? They're not going to let her take a road trip three days before midterms."
"We'll figure it out." But Jaxon's tone suggested he didn't actually have a solution yet.
We reached the dorms, and Harper pulled out her key card. "Come on. You're supposed to be resting anyway."
I followed her inside, Jaxon trailing behind us despite this being the women's residence hall. The RA at the front desk looked like she wanted to say something about a male student being present, but one look from Jaxon made her swallow her objection.
Our room felt too small with all three of us in it. Harper immediately went to her desk and pulled out a notebook, starting to make lists and plans with the focused intensity she usually reserved for exam prep.
"Okay," she said, clicking her pen. "Worst case scenarios. Brynn transforms on campus. What happens?"
"Exposure," Jaxon said grimly. "Every supernatural within fifty miles knows what she is. The Council investigates. My father finds out. And we lose any chance of controlling the narrative."
"Best case scenario?"
"We get her to the secure location, she transforms safely, and we have three more weeks to figure out the blood debt situation before the Council forces a resolution."
"What about medium case scenario?" I asked. "The one where I don't transform on campus but also don't make it to your secure location?"
They exchanged glances.
"We find somewhere else," Harper said. "Somewhere remote enough that even if you lose control, you can't hurt anyone."
"Like where?"
"The mountains. There are hiking trails that are deserted this time of year." She pulled up maps on her laptop. "We could take you up there, set up camp, and wait it out."
"That's assuming I can hike ten miles into the mountains while dealing with pre-transformation symptoms." I sat on my bed, exhaustion washing over me. "And that no one notices three students disappearing for an entire night."
"We'll say it's a wellness buddy activity," Jaxon suggested. "Therapeutic nature retreat or something."
"Dean Whitmore just told you to maintain appropriate boundaries," I pointed out. "Taking me camping probably violates that."
"Then we don't tell him." Jaxon's jaw set with determination. "We make up an excuse, sneak out, and deal with the consequences later. Your life is more important than school policy."
My phone rang, the shrill sound making all three of us jump. I pulled it out, expecting Harper or another unknown threatening text.
Instead, the screen showed: Grandmother.
My stomach dropped. "It's my grandmother."
"Don't answer it," Jaxon said immediately.
"I have to. If I don't, she'll worry and show up anyway." I swiped to accept the call, putting it on speaker. "Hi, Grandma."
"Brynn, sweetheart." Her voice was warm but strained. "I've been trying to reach you all morning. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just busy with midterms."
"The school nurse called me this morning. Something about you needing bloodwork and having some kind of episode in your counseling session?" Papers rustled in the background. "I'm looking at flights right now. I can be there by this evening."
"No!" The word came out too sharp. "I mean you don't need to come. It's really not a big deal."
"The nurse said you almost passed out. That sounds like a big deal to me."
I looked at Harper and Jaxon helplessly. Having my grandmother on campus right now, when I was three days from my first transformation and the suppressants she'd given me for years had completely failed, was the last thing I needed.
"It was just stress," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Dr. Reeves gave me some medication and I'm feeling much better."
"What medication? Brynn, you know you can't take just any medication. Your system is sensitive"
"I know, Grandma. It's fine. Harper's here helping me manage everything."
"Put Harper on the phone."
I handed the phone to Harper, who took it with the expression of someone being asked to defuse a bomb.
"Hi, Mrs. Calloway. Yes, I'm making sure she rests. No, she's not taking anything that would interact with her other medications. Yes, I promise I'll call you if anything changes." Harper listened for a long moment. "She really is okay. You don't need to visit. I know you're busy with yes, I understand. Okay. I'll tell her. Bye."
She handed the phone back. "Your grandmother is visiting campus tomorrow."
"What? No. You just said"
"I said she didn't need to visit. She informed me she's visiting anyway." Harper grimaced. "She arrives tomorrow afternoon and wants to take you to dinner to discuss your 'medical management.'"
This was a disaster. My grandmother would know immediately that the suppressants had failed. She'd probably try to give me more, which according to Jaxon could kill me now. And with the full moon in three days, there was no way to hide what was happening.
"We need to tell her," I said quietly. "About the suppressants failing. About the transformation. All of it."
"That's a terrible idea," Jaxon said.
"Why? She's the one who's been suppressing my wolf my entire life. She deserves to know it didn't work."
"And when she finds out you're about to transform for the first time, what do you think she'll do? Let you handle it calmly?" He shook his head. "She'll panic. Try to give you more suppressants that could kill you, or drag you away from school to hide you again. Either way, it makes everything worse."
"So what, I just lie to her?"
"You don't have to lie. Just don't tell her everything." Harper closed her laptop. "We have twenty-four hours to figure out how to handle this. Let's focus on getting through tomorrow, then worry about the full moon."
But I could see the fear in her eyes, the recognition that we were running out of time and options. Three days until the full moon. My grandmother arriving tomorrow. The Council demanding reports. Threatening texts from someone who knew what I was.
Everything was converging toward a crisis I wasn't ready to face.
My phone buzzed with a text. I expected another threat, but instead it was from a number I didn't recognize:
Your grandmother has been lying to you for seventeen years. Ask her about the night your mother really died.
I stared at the screen, cold flooding my body.
"What is it?" Jaxon moved closer, reading over my shoulder. His expression darkened. "Who sent that?"
"I don't know." My hands were shaking. "But they know about my mother. About my grandmother. About all of it."
"Someone's watching you," Harper said quietly. "Someone who knows your family history. Someone who wants you scared and confused."
"It's working."
The suppressant was starting to wear off I could feel my senses sharpening again, the wolf stirring beneath my skin. Three days until it broke free whether I was ready or not.
And someone out there knew exactly what was coming.