Chapter 19 Blood in the Hallways
The whispers started the next morning.
I could feel them following me through the halls like a physical weight. Students would stop talking when I passed, then resume in hushed tones the moment they thought I was out of earshot.
"Did you hear about Sterling?"
"Logan said his eyes did something weird in class."
"Probably just the light."
"No, Logan swears they glowed. Like silver."
"That's impossible. Wolves don't have silver eyes."
"Exactly."
I kept my head down and walked faster, clutching my books against my chest. The binding underneath my uniform felt tighter than usual, cutting into my ribs with every breath. I'd wrapped it extra tight this morning, paranoid after last night's confrontation with the Trio outside my door.
They'd eventually left when I refused to open up, but I'd felt their presence in the hallway for hours afterward. Felt their frustration and obsession through the bond that was forming whether I wanted it or not.
Campus life had always been hostile for me, but this was different. Before, I'd been invisible. The mute Sterling embarrassment who did everyone's homework and scrubbed toilets. People ignored me or used me, but they didn't actively hunt me.
Now, I could feel the shift. The stares were harder, more aggressive. When students passed me in the hallways, they didn't just ignore me anymore. They deliberately shoulder-checked me, shoving me into walls or lockers.
"Watch where you're going, freak."
"Defective Sterling."
"Something's wrong with him. I can smell it."
I endured it silently, the way I'd endured everything else in my life. Kept my expression neutral. Didn't fight back. Just took the hits and kept moving.
But the hostility was escalating. I could feel it building like pressure before a storm.
By midday, the shoulder-checks had turned into deliberate shoves. Students would "accidentally" trip me in the dining hall, making me drop my tray. Someone dumped their drink on my head during lunch, claiming they'd slipped.
The faculty noticed but did nothing. At Lycan Spirit Academy, weakness was meant to be culled. If I couldn't handle a little bullying, I didn't belong here.
I made it through most of the day by staying in motion, never lingering in one place long enough for anyone to corner me. Between classes, I moved quickly through the hallways. During breaks, I hid in the library or the labs where students rarely went.
But eventually, my luck ran out.
I was heading to my dorm after evening classes when I heard footsteps behind me. Multiple sets, moving in formation.
Hunters.
I sped up, taking a corner toward the main stairwell. If I could make it to my dorm, I could lock the door and wait them out.
But they were faster.
Five upperclass wolves materialized from a side hallway, cutting off my path to the stairs. I recognized two of them from combat training—brutal fighters who enjoyed hurting people.
"Well, well," the leader said, a massive Alpha named Marcus. "Look who we found. The Sterling freak."
I pulled out my notepad, but before I could write anything, Marcus slapped it out of my hands. The notepad clattered across the floor, pages scattering.
"Heard you've been doing some weird shit, Sterling," Marcus continued, circling me slowly. "Eyes glowing. Magic tricks. Makes a wolf wonder what you really are."
The others spread out, boxing me in. My heart started racing, but I kept my face neutral. Showing fear would only make this worse.
"Sterling doesn't fight back," one of them said with a cruel grin. "Watched him take beatings all semester. He just stands there like a bitch."
"Let's test that," Marcus said.
He moved fast, grabbing my shoulder and slamming me backward into the stone wall. My head cracked against the granite hard enough to make my vision blur. Pain exploded through my skull.
I tried to push away, but two others grabbed my arms and held me against the wall. Marcus's fist drove into my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs.
"Come on, freak," he snarled. "Do something weird. Show us what you really are."
Another punch, this one to my ribs. I felt something crack.
The panic started building in my chest. Not just fear—something deeper. My power responding to the threat, to the pain, rising up through channels I'd spent weeks trying to keep sealed.
"Nothing?" Marcus laughed. "Disappointing."
He slammed my head into the wall again. Blood ran hot down the side of my face, dripping onto the stone. My vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges.
Through the haze of pain, I felt my control slipping. Felt the seal cracking just a little bit more. Felt my power surging toward the surface like a tide I couldn't stop.
No, I thought desperately. Not here. Not now.
But it was already too late.
Marcus drew back for another punch, and something inside me snapped.
The walls started humming.
It was a low sound at first, barely audible. But it grew rapidly, vibrating through the stone itself like the Academy was waking up from a long sleep.
The wolves holding me froze, looking around in confusion.
"What the hell is that?" one of them whispered.
The lights in the hallway began to flicker. Slowly at first, then faster and faster until they were strobing violently. Shadows danced across the walls in patterns that shouldn't have been possible.
Then gravity tilted.
Not much. Just enough to make everyone stumble, their sense of balance suddenly uncertain. Marcus's next punch went wide, missing my face by inches.
"What's happening?" someone shouted.
I didn't know. I wasn't doing this consciously. My power was reacting on instinct, defending me without my permission.
The humming in the walls grew louder, almost like a voice. Like the Academy itself was speaking in a language too old to understand.
One of the wolves holding me let go and backed away, his face pale with fear. "This is forbidden magic. We need to—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
An invisible force picked him up and threw him violently across the hallway. He hit the opposite wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the floor, unconscious.
I hadn't touched him. Hadn't even looked at him.
The magic had done it on its own.
"Fuck this!" another wolf screamed, releasing my other arm and running. Two others followed, their footsteps echoing through the suddenly chaotic hallway.
Marcus remained, but his expression had changed from cruel confidence to genuine fear. He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
"What are you?" he breathed.
I opened my mouth to respond—to write something, anything that might defuse this—but no words came. Just blood from where I'd bitten my tongue during the beating.
The blood dripped onto the stone floor, and where it landed, silver light bloomed.
Not reflection. Not illusion. Actual silver luminescence spreading across the granite like living paint.
Marcus backed away slowly, his eyes wide. "You're not Sterling. You're not even—"
He turned and ran.
I slumped against the wall, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the hallway was in chaos. Flickering lights. Humming walls. The unconscious wolf still lying where the magic had thrown him. And on the floor, spreading slowly from where my blood had fallen, intricate silver patterns that looked almost like runes.
Students were appearing in doorways, drawn by the noise. They stared at the destruction, at me, at the silver light still glowing faintly on the stone.
"Someone get the headmaster!"
"That's forbidden magic!"
"What the fuck is Sterling?"
I pushed away from the wall and stumbled down the hallway, leaving bloody handprints on the stone where I used the wall to keep my balance. Every step sent fresh pain through my cracked ribs, but I forced myself to keep moving.
Behind me, I heard more shouting. More students gathering. The rumor mill starting to churn.
I made it to the nearest bathroom and locked myself in a stall, sinking down onto the toilet seat with my head in my hands. Blood dripped steadily from my scalp wound, staining my fingers red.
What had I done?
I'd used magic. Forbidden magic. In front of witnesses.
There was no explaining that away. No claiming it was a trick of the light or a hallucination. They'd all seen it. Felt it. The Academy itself had responded to my blood, to my power.
Through my shock and pain, I realized something that made my blood run even colder.
The Academy was old. Ancient. Built on the ruins of something even older.
An Oracle temple.
The same temple where my mother had given birth to me and Rafe. Where she'd cast the sealing spell. Where she'd hidden something precious.
The walls had responded to my blood because they recognized what I was.
Oracle.
I looked down at my bloody hands and saw faint silver light still dancing across my palms. The seal was breaking faster now, accelerated by stress and injury. By the power I'd been forced to use.
Two and a half weeks until my eighteenth birthday. That's all I had to hold this together.
But looking at the blood on my hands, feeling the Academy humming around me in recognition, I knew I wasn't going to make it that long.
The secret was out. Maybe not explicitly, but enough that questions were being asked. Enough that I'd be watched even more closely.
Enough that the Elite Trio would intensify their hunt for answers.
I needed to get to the infirmary. My head wound needed treatment, and my ribs might actually be broken this time. But going to the infirmary meant answering questions. Meant being examined.
Meant risking discovery.
I had no choice. The blood loss was making me dizzy, and I couldn't afford to pass out in a bathroom stall.
I stood carefully and made my way out of the bathroom, keeping to the less-traveled back hallways. The Academy at night was dimly lit and mostly empty, everyone either in their dorms or at study sessions.
I made it to the infirmary without being seen and pushed through the door.
The healer, an older woman named Dr. Chen, looked up from her desk with practiced efficiency. Then her eyes widened when she saw the blood covering the side of my face.
"What happened?"
I pulled out my notepad with shaking hands and wrote.
Fell down stairs. Hit my head.
Dr. Chen's expression said she didn't believe that for a second, but Academy policy was clear. If a student claimed an injury was accidental, you treated them and didn't ask questions.
She guided me to an examination table and started cleaning the wound. I sat perfectly still, trying not to wince as she worked.
"This is going to need stitches," she muttered. "How did you really get this?"
I said nothing. Couldn't say anything even if I'd wanted to.
She sighed and began the stitching process, her hands sure and steady. The local anesthetic helped with the pain, but I could still feel the pull of thread through my skin.
"Your ribs too," she noted, gently probing my side. "At least two cracked. You're lucky they didn't puncture a lung."
She wrapped my torso in bandages, the pressure adding to the already uncomfortable binding around my chest. I'd have to adjust it later, make sure nothing was visible through my clothes.
"You need to be more careful," Dr. Chen said, washing her hands. "Falls like that can kill someone."
I nodded and started to slide off the table, ready to escape before she asked anything else.
But then she stiffened.
Her hands paused in mid-air, her nostrils flaring as she caught a scent she clearly hadn't expected. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on me with sudden, sharp attention.
"Wait," she said slowly. "Something's not right."
My heart started racing. Through the forming bond, I felt an echo of alarm from somewhere in the Academy. One of the Trio had sensed my fear.
Dr. Chen leaned closer, inhaling deliberately. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock.
"You're not reacting like a male wolf should," she said quietly. "The scent suppressants you're taking are masking something, but I can still sense..." She trailed off, staring at me with dawning horror. "What are you hiding, Sterling?"