Chapter 18 Chapter 18: Cracks Showing

Chapter 18 Chapter 18: Cracks Showing

Morning came too soon, gray and heavy through the half-open blinds. Snow had stopped sometime in the night, leaving a thin crust over everything outside. I woke with the taste of last night still in my mouth—woodsmoke, cider, the ghost of Rowan’s hand on my waist, the burn of Kieran’s almost-touch on my jaw. My head throbbed like I’d been drinking something stronger than spiced apple juice. I sat up slowly. Lyra was already gone—bed made, note on her pillow: Library till lunch. Text if you need me. No apology. No explanation. Just practical. We were past apologies now. I dressed in layers. Hoodie. Jeans. Boots that still had yesterday’s straw stuck to the soles.

My hand went to the drawer automatically—pulled it open before I could talk myself out of it. The flower from two nights ago was wilting now, petals browning at the edges, but the new one from last night sat beside it. Fresh. White. Pine-scent is still sharp enough to sting. Underneath both—my phone. Screen dark. I opened the drawer wider.
Something else was there. A folded piece of paper. Not Kieran’s neat handwriting. This was different—blocky, rushed. I unfolded it. Blood calls to blood. You’re next. Fresh blood smear across the bottom—dark red, still tacky when I touched it. Not dry. Not old. My stomach lurched. Another thought hit: not footsteps in the hall last night. No broken lock. Just the drawer sliding open on its own, like the campus itself was breathing the threats into my space.

. I stared at the note until the words blurred. Then I folded it again—small, tight—shoved it into the same hiding spot as the others. Slammed the drawer shut. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I sat on the edge of the bed. Breathed. In four. Hold-four. Out-four.
The suppression technique from class. It helped. Barely. Lyra came back around noon. She found me still sitting there, staring at the floor. “Sage?” She dropped her bag. Crossed the room fast. “What happened? “I didn’t answer right away. Just pulled the note from the drawer and handed it to her. She read it. Face went pale. “When?
”Sometime last night. While we were at the bonfire. “She sat beside me. Close. Not touching. “This isn’t Kieran. ”I know. ”Then who? “I shook my head.

“Someone who wants me scared. ”She looked at the blood smear. “That’s… fresh.” “Yeah. ”We sat in silence for a long minute. Then she said, quietly, “We need to tell the others. ”I nodded. “After class. ”Pack Dynamics was in the arena annex—a smaller room, padded walls, no windows. Professor Reyes had us paired up again. Dominance exercises. Stare-downs. Posture. Scent. No touching. Just presence. I ended up across from Morgan. Of course. She smirked when she saw me. Tall. Sharp features. Hair pulled into a tight ponytail that made her look even more severe. We faced each other. Feet planted. Eyes locked.

The exercise was simple: hold the stare until one submitted. No words. No blinking if you could help it. I didn’t want to win. Winning drew attention. But my wolf didn’t care about attention. The moment our eyes met, something inside me uncoiled. My vision sharpened. Colors brightened. Morgan’s hazel irises flickered—pupils dilating, then narrowing. Her scent shifted—cedar and aggression and something sour underneath.

My nails itched. I felt them push—black tips breaking skin under my clenched fists. I curled my hands tighter. Hid them behind my back. Morgan’s lip curled. “Scared already?”I didn’t answer. But my eyes burned.Amber.I felt the glow before I saw it reflected in hers. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then dropped her gaze.Submission.The room went quiet. Professor Reyes cleared her throat. “Adequate, Winters. Control your shift next time.”I nodded. Didn’t speak. Across the room—near the observation window—Kieran stood. Arms crossed. Watching.
Our eyes met. His were gold. Full gold. He didn’t look away. I did.

The afternoon tunnel meet was colder than usual. The stone walls seemed to hold the chill from outside. Ivy, Dex, and Lyra were already there when I arrived—flashlight beams cutting through the dark. I showed them the note. The blood. Ivy’s face hardened. “Someone’s escalating.”Dex took the paper. Held it under the light. “No prints we can lift here. But the blood… I can test it later. See if it’s human or wolf.”Lyra stayed quiet. Arms wrapped around herself. I looked at her. “You okay?”She shook her head. “I keep thinking… if they’re watching you this close, they’re watching all of us.”Dex pocketed the note. “I hacked the security feed last night. Blind spots near the dorms. Someone could’ve slipped in through the maintenance door. No cameras there.”Ivy frowned. “We need to start locking our rooms better.
And maybe… pair up when we’re out after dark.”We agreed. Small plan. Fragile. But something. Evening in the dorm was quiet. Lyra went to bed early—said she had a headache. I didn’t argue. I waited until her breathing evened out. Then I sat cross-legged on my bed. Closed my eyes.
Focused.

The shift came faster this time. Eyes first—pressure, heat, burn. I opened them. Amber in the small mirror propped on my desk. Then deeper.Gold.Full gold. My canines ached—dropped lower. Ears stretched. Fur tried to push through along my arms. I held it.

Longer than yesterday. Pain flared—bright, white-hot—but I breathed through it. In four. Hold-four. Out-four.The gold held. I stared at my reflection. Not human.Not fully wolf.Something in between.Terrifying.Powerful.I let go. The recoil hit hard—bones snapping back, skin smoothing, eyes fading to brown. I gasped. Bent forward. Forehead against my knees.
Sweat dripped down my spine. But I hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t lost control.Smaller victory. I lay down eventually. Lights off. Blanket pulled high. Midnight crept in. Footsteps outside the door—soft, deliberate. I froze.No knock. Just… presence.Then silence. I waited ten minutes.

Twenty.Slipped out of bed.Opened the door a crack.Hallway empty. No one.But on the floor—right at the threshold—another dead rabbit. Throat torn. Blood still wet. Note pinned through the fur. Same handwriting. Blood calls to blood. You’re next. I stared at it.
Then I picked it up—carefully, by the ears. Carried it to the bathroom down the hall.Wrapped it in paper towels.Flushed the note.Washed my hands until they stung. Back in the room, I hid the body at the bottom of my laundry bag. I’d bury it tomorrow. Somewhere far from the dorm. I didn’t wake Lyra. Didn’t want her to see. I sat on my bed in the dark. Stared at the window. No ghost wolf tonight.Just snow-dusted glass and moonlight.
And the faint, coppery smell of blood still on my fingers. I pulled the blanket over my head. Tried to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw gold.Mine.Kieran’s.The wolf’s.And somewhere deep inside—where the thing that woke when he was near lived—it growled again.Low.Steady.Not angry.Not afraid.Waiting.