Chapter 23 Twenty three
The days dragged by like a slow, suffocating fog.
The wedding loomed closer with each sunrise, and Harper felt more powerless than ever. Koda was gone—completely erased from her world. No texts. No sightings. No presence in the halls. Just rumors whispered behind hands and the cold certainty that he was still locked away somewhere beneath the Alpha’s house, paying for sins that weren’t fully his.
Kai still came to school.
But he may as well not have.
Every time Harper tried to approach him, he turned away. His shoulders stayed tense, his jaw locked tight, his eyes avoiding hers like she carried a disease. Once, she caught a flicker of something—anger, grief, guilt—before he disappeared down a hallway with his friends.
It hurt more than she wanted to admit.
That afternoon, Harper walked alone along the side corridor near the old classrooms, her thoughts heavy and spiraling. The air felt wrong—charged, restless. The hairs on her arms prickled.
Then she heard it.
A scream.
Not the playful shriek of students messing around—but raw, panicked, and sharp enough to stop her cold.
Harper turned instinctively and followed the sound.
It came from Classroom C-12, one of the unused rooms near the back of the school. The door was half-open, voices spilling out in harsh, angry bursts.
She pushed it wider.
Inside, a small crowd had already gathered, forming a loose circle around two girls at the center of the room.
The first girl was tall and sharp-featured, her blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail that screamed discipline and status. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, her posture rigid, eyes blazing with fury. Her scent—strong, dominant—marked her as a high-ranking wolf, probably from a powerful family.
The second girl couldn’t have been more different.
She was shorter, slender, with dark, unruly curls falling around her face. Her clothes were neat but worn, as if they’d been washed too many times. Her eyes were wide, dark, and terrified—but burning with defiance. There was something other about her. Her scent was strange—earthy, sharp, unfamiliar.
Whispers rippled through the room.
“That’s her…”
“The witch girl.”
“I told you something was off about her.”
The blonde girl had her fist twisted in the other girl’s hair, yanking her head back painfully.
“You little witch,” she snarled. “You did this on purpose.”
“I’m not a witch!” the dark-haired girl shouted back, her voice shaking but loud. “Let go of me!”
Calling someone a witch in a wolf school wasn’t just an insult.
It was a death sentence.
Wolves believed witches were manipulative, dangerous beings who sought control over packs and power beyond the natural order. Many packs hunted them without hesitation.
Fear spread instantly.
The blonde shoved the girl backward. She stumbled but didn’t fall, catching herself against a desk.
“You think we don’t feel it?” the blonde continued. “Your energy is wrong. Ever since you transferred here, things have been happening. Accidents. Nightmares. People getting sick.”
“That’s not me!” the girl cried. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
Laughter broke out—cruel and eager.
“Liar.”
“Witches always lie.”
“Burn her.”
Harper’s chest tightened.
This was spiraling fast.
The blonde lunged again, slapping the girl hard across the face. The sound echoed, sharp and vicious. The girl cried out, stumbling into a desk this time, knocking it over.
Something snapped.
The dark-haired girl screamed—not in pain, but rage—and shoved the blonde back with surprising force. The desks rattled as energy burst outward, invisible but powerful enough to send papers flying.
The room went silent.
Then chaos erupted.
“She used magic!”
“I told you!”
“Get her!”
Several students surged forward.
The blonde snarled, eyes flashing yellow as she partially shifted, claws extending. “You see?” she yelled. “She’s dangerous!”
The dark-haired girl backed away, hands shaking, fear flooding her face. “Please,” she begged. “I didn’t mean to—”
She tripped.
And fell straight into Harper.
Harper barely had time to gasp before the impact sent both of them crashing to the floor. The room froze for half a second.
Then—
“That’s Harper!”
“The wolfless one!”
“She’s with the witch!”
Hands grabbed.
Someone yanked Harper up by the arm roughly, spinning her around.
“What are you doing protecting her?” a boy snarled.
“I’m not!” Harper protested, panic rising. “She fell—”
Too late.
The blonde turned slowly, her eyes locking onto Harper with a cruel smile. “Of course,” she said. “The wolfless peasant and the witch. Makes sense.”
Harper’s heart pounded. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Silence,” the blonde snapped, shoving Harper hard.
Harper stumbled back, hitting the chalkboard with a painful thud.
Before she could recover, the dark-haired girl screamed as someone struck her again. Energy pulsed wildly through the room—lights flickering, desks scraping across the floor.
The witch—if that’s what she was—was losing control.
And Harper was right in the middle of it.
A sudden surge blasted outward, throwing students against walls. Harper was lifted off her feet, slammed to the ground, her head ringing.
Shouts filled the room.
“Stop her!”
“Someone call a teacher!”
“Kill her before she curses us!”
Harper crawled toward the dark-haired girl without thinking, instinct screaming louder than fear.
“Hey!” Harper shouted, grabbing her arm. “Look at me! You’re not alone—”
The girl’s eyes snapped to Harper’s.
For a brief, terrifying second, something ancient and glowing flickered behind them.
The room went dead silent.
And whatever had just awakened—
Was no longer just about a fight.
The words hit the room like a lit match dropped into oil.
“Harper is also a witch!”
For half a second, no one moved.
Then the whispers exploded.
“What—?”
“No way—”
“The wolfless girl?”
Harper’s blood ran cold. Her head snapped toward the voice—a boy near the windows, eyes wide, face pale with a mix of fear and excitement, like he’d just uncovered a secret too delicious not to throw into the fire.
“That’s why weird things happen around her!” he continued, louder now. “She’s been here all along, hiding it!”
“I’m not—” Harper started, but her voice drowned beneath the rising panic.
Wolves recoiled instinctively. Some stepped back. Others leaned forward, nostrils flaring, eyes sharpening as if they were scenting prey. Fear and aggression tangled in the air, thick and electric.
“No,” someone muttered. “That explains it.”
“The Alpha warned us about witches.”
Harper’s chest tightened painfully. Her palms were sweating, her heart hammering so loud she could barely hear herself think.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, forcing the words out, forcing herself to stand straighter even as dread clawed up her spine. “I’ve never done anything—”
A low sound cut her off.
Not human.
Not wolf.
A growl—raw, feral, vibrating with something ancient.
The dark-haired girl slowly pushed herself off the floor.
Her movement alone made the room flinch.
She stood with her shoulders squared, spine straight, her curls falling around her face like a dark halo. Her lips peeled back from her teeth—not in a smile, not fully a snarl, but something in between. Her canines looked sharper now. Too sharp.
Her eyes were no longer just dark.
They glimmered—deep emerald, threaded with faint, pulsing veins of gold.
Every wolf in the room felt it.
Power.
Unrefined. Wild. Dangerous.
Several students instinctively stepped back, hands raised slightly, as if facing a cornered animal.
“Say it again,” the girl growled, her voice layered—hers, and something older beneath it.
The blonde swallowed hard but didn’t retreat. Pride and fear warred on her face. “You’re proving my point,” she snapped, though her voice wavered. “Only witches bare their teeth like that.”
The girl laughed.
It was short. Sharp. Humorless.
“You call us monsters,” she said, eyes sweeping the room, “but look at you. A whole pack ready to tear two girls apart because you’re scared of what you don’t understand.”
Her gaze flicked to Harper.
For a brief moment, something softened there—recognition, maybe. Or kinship.
Harper felt it then.
A pull.
Not magic exactly—more like awareness snapping into place, like a door inside her cracking open just enough to let something breathe.
Her head throbbed.
The room suddenly felt too small.
“Don’t look at her,” the blonde barked. “She’s influencing you!”
“I’m not doing anything,” Harper said again, but this time her voice didn’t sound as weak—to her own surprise, it held. “You’re the ones attacking people. She was on the floor. Bleeding.”
“So were victims of witches,” someone shouted back.
The dark-haired girl took a step forward.
Desks skidded backward as if shoved by an invisible force.
Gasps filled the room.
“You touch her again,” the girl said quietly, dangerously, “and I won’t stop myself.”
The threat wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
The air crackled, lights flickering violently now. Windows rattled. Chalk lifted off the board in a fine white mist.
A teacher’s shout echoed faintly from the hallway—too far away.
Too late.
The blonde shifted further, claws fully extended now. “You think you scare us?” she snarled. “This is a wolf school. You don’t belong here.”
“Neither does she,” another added, pointing at Harper. “She’s been cursed since birth. No wolf. No pack.”
The girl’s expression twisted—anger, frustration, something raw and deeply wounded flashing across her face.
“I am a fucking hybrid,” she yelled, her voice cracking through the room like thunder. “Hybrids are not wolves.”
The words slammed into the crowd harder than any blow.
Silence followed—but it wasn’t calm. It was the kind of silence that trembled.
Harper’s eyes widened.
A hybrid.