Chapter 9
Ellie's POV
Cedar View University.
I was halfway through folding my laundry when Lily burst into our dorm room, her eyes wide with excitement and her phone clutched dramatically to her chest.
"Oh. My. God. Ellie!" She flopped onto my bed, sending my carefully stacked t-shirts tumbling. "Have you checked Campus Whispers today?"
Lily Parker was one of my two roommates in Dorm 304—a human whirlwind with blonde curls and an uncanny radar for campus drama. I adored her 99% of the time, but that remaining 1% typically involved her tornado-like entrances destroying whatever organization I'd just created.
Case in point: my once-neat stack of t-shirts now resembled a colorful avalanche across my comforter and the floor. So much for Marie Kondo would be proud of me Monday.
I sighed, rescuing a shirt from the floor. "You know I don't follow that gossip app."
"Well, you should!" Lily thrust her phone in my face. "Lucas was spotted at Cartwright's Jewelers yesterday. He bought this gorgeous necklace and bracelet set that cost, like, a semester's worth of meal plans."
My hands stilled over the laundry basket. "And why would I care about that?"
"Because!" Lily rolled onto her stomach, kicking her feet up behind her. "Everyone knows expensive jewelry means either serious relationship or serious apology. And who else would he be apologizing to? You guys haven't spoken since, like, forever!"
I sighed internally. I'd naively thought that college would be my fresh start—that high school drama would stay in Mapleton where it belonged. But on the very first day of orientation, someone had created a "Hottest Freshmen" thread on Campus Whispers, and somehow Lucas and I had both made the top of the list. "Hometown Hotties," they'd called us.
It only got worse when a few Mapleton graduates who'd chosen CVU started spreading stories about our history. "They've known each other since kindergarten," they'd say, or "Their families are super close." Within weeks, as Lucas made the basketball team and I was recruited for both dance society and cheerleading, the rumors morphed into something more romantic.
Suddenly we were "childhood sweethearts" or "star-crossed lovers" depending on who was telling the story. The speculation spread through campus like a virus, growing more elaborate with each retelling, until even professors seemed to know about the supposed epic romance between Lucas Miller and Ellie Green. The irony of becoming a campus couple when we weren't even speaking to each other wasn't lost on me.
I forced myself to continue folding, keeping my voice neutral. "Lucas can buy out the entire jewelry store for all I care. It has nothing to do with me."
"Come on, Ellie. You've been avoiding each other since orientation. Don't you think it's time to—"
"No," I cut her off, perhaps too sharply. "I don't think it's time for anything."
As Lily continued chattering about the campus gossip, my mind drifted back to a memory I'd tried hard to bury. I was five years old, playing at the Mapleton Park playground while my mother chatted with other parents nearby. I found a silver charm bracelet in the sandbox and picked it up, holding it high and asking loudly whose it was.
Within minutes, angry red welts appeared on my palm. By the time my mother noticed, I was struggling to breathe, my throat closing as the allergic reaction spread. Lucas, who had been playing on the swings, ran to me faster than any normal five-year-old should move. He knocked the bracelet from my hand and screamed for help, nearly risking exposure of our secret in his panic.
"My friend needs help!" he had shouted, his small voice cracking with fear. "She can't breathe!"
That day, Lucas had been my protector, my friend, my pack. The memory made the contrast with his recent behavior all the more painful—especially when I thought about how he had deliberately crushed my family pendant beneath his heel, the wood splintering like our friendship.
"Ellie? Hello? Earth to Ellie?"
Lily's voice pulled me back to the present. She was waving her hand in front of my face.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" I asked.
"Are you coming to dinner with us? Megan found this amazing Thai place off-campus."
"I can't. I've got dance practice for the anniversary performance." I kept my eyes down, focused on the floor.
"Ooh, the big 150th celebration!" Megan Davis appeared behind Lily, her perfect eyebrows raised suggestively. "Is Lucas going to be there? I heard the basketball team is doing some kind of exhibition during the event."
I stood up, wringing out the towel with more force than necessary. "I have no idea what Lucas is doing, and I don't care. We're just from the same hometown. We barely know each other."
Megan and Lily exchanged a look that clearly said they didn't believe me, but thankfully they dropped the subject.
Twenty minutes later, I was walking across campus toward the dance studio, the evening air cool against my skin. The paths were mostly empty, with most students either at dinner or in the library. I took the opportunity to breathe deeply, trying to center myself and push away thoughts of Lucas and his gift.
The 150th anniversary celebration of Cedar View University was less than a week away. As one of the dance society's strongest performers, I'd been selected to participate in the showcase. It was an honor I couldn't refuse.
I was passing the Humanities building when I heard a metallic scrape above me. My enhanced hearing picked up the sound a split-second before my instincts kicked in. I lunged forward just as something heavy crashed down from the third-floor window, missing my head by inches.
The impact behind me was followed by a sharp, shattering sound. I spun around to see an ornate silver candelabra lying broken on the pavement, one of its sharp edges gleaming in the fading light. As I stared at it in shock, a searing pain erupted in my right shoulder.
"Damn it," I hissed, reaching up to find my jacket torn and wet with blood. A jagged piece of the silver had caught me as it fell, slicing through fabric and skin.
I glanced up quickly at the third-floor windows. There—just for an instant—I saw a flash of blonde hair and a pale face that looked disturbingly like Samantha's before it disappeared from view. My blood ran cold.
This was no accident. A heavy silver candelabra doesn't just "fall" from a window ledge. Someone had pushed it—aimed it—directly at me.
The burning sensation in my shoulder intensified, spreading outward from the cut like acid under my skin. Normal wounds heal quickly for my kind—sometimes within minutes—but silver... silver was different. It poisoned us, prevented healing, and in large enough quantities, could kill.
They know what I am, I thought with growing panic. Someone knows I'm a werewolf.