Chapter 5: Madman

Aurora 

The male tryout lodge was far more impressive than I imagined—towering walls of smooth, dark stone, glittering chandeliers suspended high above, arched windows that caught the last slivers of fading sunlight, and thick, ornate doors that looked like they belonged to a luxurious lodge not a school dorm.

But more than the grandeur, it was the silence that struck me.

Not just quiet.

Unnaturally silent.

I lingered at the threshold, unsure. For a male lodge, I expected noise—loud voices, laughter, footsteps, something. But the entrance loomed before me.

The weight of James’s bag in my hands suddenly felt heavier.

Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

I had no idea where his room was. How was I supposed to find him in a place this massive?

I half-turned, ready to walk away.

I’d hoped to run into one of the other tryouts, maybe ask them to point me in the right direction. But standing here, at the entrance to this eerily empty building, I hadn’t seen a single soul.

I should just go back.

But then… my backpack.

I groaned under my breath.

Just thinking about what was inside made my stomach twist. Goddess help me, if James had looked through it—even by accident—he’d think I was a freak.

There was still a chance he hadn’t yet.Maybe he’d just dropped it somewhere, unopened.

But the longer he had it, the higher the chance he’d dig into it—or worse, someone else might.

And if anyone saw the contents…

Nope. Not happening.

The sooner we swapped bags, the better. For everyone.

I didn’t want attention. I didn’t want whispers. Back in my pack, I’d been the odd one. The freak. And here? I just wanted to blend in, keep my head down only stand out for my skills that would earn me a place here. 

I had to try.

I had to get it back—myself.

Drawing in a slow, steady breath, I stepped inside.

The change was instant.

The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, cold enough to sting. The air felt dense—heavy with something I couldn’t quite name. Like static electricity right before a storm. It clung to my skin, crawled up my arms.

And the smell—

Overpowering. Musky. Dominant. Like a dozen high-ranking males had marked the space with their scent. The kind of power that made your instincts go still.

I shivered as it settled over me, thick and oppressive.

“Hello?” I called, voice quiet, uncertain. It barely echoed past the stone walls.

No answer.

The hallway ahead stretched out, lined with identical doors and polished floors that clicked faintly under my shoes.

I sighed. I should just leave. There were too many rooms, and I didn’t have the faintest clue which one was James’s.

But my grip on the bag tightened.

Every time I thought about turning back, I pictured James and his face twisting in confusion… or disgust at me. 

Then—

Clank.

The sound of something solid hitting stone.

I froze.

Then it came again—louder this time. Followed by a low groan.

I turned my head toward the sound. It was coming from upstairs.

For a split second, I had wondered if that girl had misled me on purpose. Sent me into an empty building just to waste my time.

But it seemed someone was here after all.

“Hello?” I called again, voice a little louder this time as I moved toward the staircase.

I stepped into a wide room at the top and came to a halt.

Someone was on the floor.

At first, I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing—just the shape of a body, slumped forward.

Then I saw the blood.

His back was bare, streaked in red. A deep gash cut across one shoulder blade, raw and open. He was braced on his hands, chest heaving as he struggled to stay upright.

He staggered, trying to get to his feet, one hand reaching for the edge of the wash basin. His fingers slipped, and he crumpled back down, catching himself awkwardly on one elbow. 

A few metal weights and pieces of equipment toppled beside him, clanging loudly against the polished stone floor.

That must’ve been the bang I heard earlier.

A soft gasp escaped my lips as I took in the state of the person on the floor.

“Hey—are you okay?” I stepped forward without thinking, my heart lurching. “You’re hurt—”

He groaned faintly as I crouched beside him.

The wounds were... brutal. Ugly gashes trailed across his bare back, one in particular stretching over his shoulder blade, still raw and bleeding. Deep bruises marred his skin in angry shades of red and purple, like he’d been in a fight with something far worse than another student.

What the hell happened to him?

Who could’ve done this? And why wasn’t anyone else around?

What unsettled me even more was the strange way the wounds sat on him—not healing, not fading like they should if he were a wolf. It was like his body had stalled, locked in some kind of constant pain.

How was he still conscious and struggling to get on his feet.

“Here—let me help,” I said, gently reaching out to steady him

That was a mistake.

The moment I touched him, our eyes met and everything changed.

Piercing green eyes snapped open, meeting mine with a glare so sharp it nearly knocked the breath out of me. There was nothing calm or sane in them. They were wild, unhinged—raw power radiating off him like heat from a furnace.

I froze.

Everything happened so fast.

One second I was crouching beside him—and the next, I was flying through the air.

It happened so fast I didn’t even register what he’d done. One movement. One flash of energy. That was all it took.

My body slammed hard into something solid—a wall? A set of stairs? I couldn’t tell. The impact sent shockwaves through me, knocking the air from my lungs in a single, painful rush.

White-hot pain exploded behind my eyes.

I slid to the ground and just lay there, dazed. My vision blurred. The wind had been knocked out of me, and for a second I genuinely thought—I might die here.

He was standing upright now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His dark hair was tousled and messy, strands falling over most of his face. But I could still feel the burn of his stare even from here.

I blinked, stunned I was even still conscious.

I wasn’t in pieces. Just bruised. Lucky, I guessed.

Staggering upright, I gritted my teeth, still gasping for breath. My body ached, but my pride? That was seething.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I yelled.

No reply.

Just silence.

But I could feel it, his hot gaze. Watching from above the stairs. 

This man wasn't normal  

Great. Of course I’d be the one to find the one psycho in the entire school.

Without another word, I limped grabbed James’s discarded bag from where it had fallen, and turned on my heel.

I needed to get out of here. Fast.

It was clear now—this place wasn’t just a lodge. 

It had to be an asylum.

An asylum for that raving madman.

But...he was injured. Badly.

The thought clawed at me even as I stormed away.

I was still gripping James’s bag like my life depended on it. 

Then I felt it—a sting, sharp and sudden, slicing through the haze.

I looked down.

A thin, red slash marked my thigh, shallow but bleeding.

Great. Just great. First night here, and I was nearly killed by a psychopath.

Still, I couldn’t get those eyes out of my head.

Piercing. Bright. Unhinged.

I’d never seen anything like them. That intense. That… alive.

And for a split second, I could’ve sworn something passed between us. A jolt—like static, electric and instant, crackling through the space between us when our eyes met.

What?! I blinked hard, shaking my head like it could shake off the memory.

What was I even thinking?

Electricity?

No. That was fear. Pure terror. Goosebumps and adrenaline from watching my life flash before my eyes.

There was no way I was romanticizing my attempted murder.

Still…

Why was he bleeding like that?

Why did he look like he hadn’t been able to heal?

I slowed without meaning to, thoughts racing ahead of my steps.

None of this made sense.

But one thing was crystal clear: I hadn’t stumbled into the male tryout lodge.

This place belonged to someone else.

Someone who clearly wasn’t meant to be found.

The beautiful-eyed lunatic, maybe. And if I was right, that blonde witch had sent me there on purpose—knowing exactly what I’d find.

As I neared the girls’ lodge, my steps faltered again.

They’d be waiting.

Watching.

I could feel it already—that quiet anticipation.

Girls like that lived for scenes. For chaos. Things like this was a source of amusement to spice up their boring lives. 

And right now, I was their chosen source of entertainment.

Not if I could help it.

I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.

As I approached the lodge doors, I straightened up, tugged my clothes into place, and forced myself to take slow, steady breaths. My legs still ached from the fall, but I wouldn’t limp—not in front of them.

The second I stepped into the hall, I felt it.

Eyes.

Scrutinizing, expectant.

The blonde witch was there, of course. Leaning casually against the wall, arms folded, watching me with thinly veiled interest. In fact, they were all watching—half-curious, half-surprised.

She arched an eyebrow as I drew near, her gaze sweeping over me as if trying to find cracks.

They didn’t expect me to return.

Especially not like this.

"Did you...?" she started, voice sugary and mocking.

“Oh yes,” I cut in smoothly, pasting on my sweetest smile. “I found exactly what I was looking for. And,” I added with a pointed glance in her direction, “I made a rather interesting discovery while I was at it.”

That you’re a bitch, I added silently, still smiling wide and pleasant.

“Thank you,” I said, all polite and sugary, like I meant it.

She blinked, flustered, clearly thrown off by my calm. The look on her face told me everything—she hadn’t expected me to actually return. Much less return in one piece.

As I walked past, I heard the low murmur of whispers behind me.

“She knew about Preston Lodge all along...”

“She only pretended not to know.”

I smirked, satisfied.

Let them wonder. Let them spin their little theories.

I’d ruined their show.

Sorry, girls.

You’ll have to find another tragedy to spice up your boring night.

When I finally made it back to my room, it was empty.

I let out a long sigh, stripped off my clothes, and headed straight for the shower, the door clicking shut behind me.

Warm water rushed over me, but it did little to chase away the chill that clung to my skin. For some reason, those eyes kept flashing in my mind—vivid, sharp, piercing. Even with the water beating down, I couldn’t shake the image or how intense they had felt 

What was wrong with me?

I didn’t even feel the urge to tell my roommates what had happened. Maybe I was still in shock—or maybe I just didn’t want to relive it.

Wrapped in a towel, I returned to the room to find something waiting for me.

A neatly arranged set of uniforms, folded with surprising care and placed on my bed.

I paused, then smiled.

A small, strange flicker of hope lit somewhere in my chest.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, a new life begins. It was best I put this all behind me. 

And hopefully, James will keep his mouth shut if he stumbled across the bizarre contents of my bag.

Goddess help me if he didn’t.