Chapter Four

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of ordinary noise — shoes scuffing across polished stone floors, lockers clanging shut, voices overlapping in a whirlwind of gossip and weekend plans. Runes etched into the lockers shimmered with soft magelight, glowing faintly beneath the pressure of passing auras. Holo-scrolls flickered to life above desks as students woke them with a touch, the glowing script shifting and reorganizing with each pulse of magic.

MoonShadow High was like any other school in Ancnix on the surface — loud, restless, overflowing with the energy of young Shifters on the edge of adulthood. But beneath its walls, the air carried a hum that wasn’t entirely mundane. The heartbeat of lineage. The whisper of ancient magic woven into the bones of the city. The ghost of moonlight.

Elora usually found comfort in it.

Today, the atmosphere sat on her skin like static.

She walked through the halls beside Kailee, trying to breathe in the familiar scents — stone warmed by sunlight, storm-soaked wood, ozone from the magelight strips overhead. She tried to anchor herself in the simple rhythm of life: classmates waving, lockers slamming, the occasional howl from an overexcited wolf-shifter in the lower grades.

But the dream lingered, clinging to her mind like fog.

By the time she slid into her seat for the last class before lunch, her chest felt tight. Kailee settled beside her, stretching her arms overhead with a quiet groan.

“I swear,” Kailee muttered, pulling her holo-scroll into focus with a flick of her fingers, “if this class ends with more questions about the founding Fenraen laws, I’m shifting in protest.”

Elora managed a faint smile but didn’t answer.

Their teacher swept into the room, stylus in hand, robes brushing the floor with each deliberate step. “Settle down,” she called, her voice carrying the clipped precision of someone born to enforce order. With a touch of her stylus, luminous runes bloomed in the air — floating symbols made of pure light. “Today, we review the Fourth Creed.”

Around them, students quieted, the glow of the runes reflected in their eyes.

Elora tried to focus. Really, she did.

But her wolf pricked its ears toward something else — something beneath the surface hum of the school. A shift. A pull. A cold feathering at the edge of her senses.

She blinked. The runes swam out of focus for a heartbeat.

Kailee nudged her gently. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Elora whispered. “Just tired.”

She wasn’t lying exactly. But she wasn’t telling the truth.

The teacher continued lecturing, shaping the runes into intricate patterns that dissolved into mist. Lines of history and law wove themselves across the air.

And then the light in the room changed.

Dust motes drifted through a stray sunbeam, catching faint silver — the exact shade of moonlight that drenched her in dreams. Elora’s heart skipped. The edges of her vision tingled.

A pulse rippled through the classroom — soft, but unmistakable. Her wolf snapped to attention, claws scraping against the inside of her ribcage.

Danger.

She lifted her head.

Across the room, Gregory Forstfang sat with perfect posture, hands folded neatly on his desk. He wasn’t taking notes. He wasn’t even pretending to glance at the runes.

He was staring at her.

Not glancing.

Not looking.

Staring.

His eyes didn’t move, didn’t blink — bright gold veined with something darker, threads of black coiling like smoke around the iris. His gaze pinned her in place, a force so sharp her breath faltered.

The world narrowed to the space between them.

Her wolf recoiled, not out of fear — but out of recognition.

Something was wrong.

Wrong in a way that had no name.

Gregory’s aura should have felt warm, steady, a wolf’s presence layered in dominance and authority.

Instead, a cold ripple rolled off him — thick and heavy, like shadows swallowing light.

Hunger.

But not the kind that belonged to a teenage Shifter.

This hunger lived deeper. Older.

Something ancient watching through him.

“Elora?” Kailee whispered, voice distant.

Elora didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Gregory’s lips curved — the smallest shift, but enough to make her pulse stutter. He knew she was watching. He wanted her to see.

The teacher’s voice cracked through the room like a whip.

“Miss Jardine? The answer?”

Elora jerked upright. The runes blurred. She hadn’t heard a single word.

Her cheeks flushed hot. “I—could you repeat the question?”

A few snickers rippled around the classroom. Kailee shot a glare over her shoulder at the offenders, then leaned in and murmured, “Lor. Breathe.”

Elora nodded faintly, even as her wolf twisted with unease.

For the rest of the lecture, she felt Gregory behind her — too still, too focused, too wrong.

By the time the bell rang, Elora was out of her seat before the sound had fully settled.

“Come with me,” she said sharply, grabbing her bag — and Kailee’s wrist.

Kailee blinked. “Uh—yeah. Okay.”

Elora pulled her through the hallway, slipping between clusters of students, ignoring the curious glances directed their way. Her wolf paced beneath her skin, restless, claws scraping at her ribs.

They reached the nearest girls’ bathroom. Elora pushed open the door and let it slam shut behind them.

Silence.

Kailee’s wrist comm-crystal buzzed once, a faint shimmer pulsing through the air. She flicked it off with a groan. “If that’s Zayden again wanting to know what we want for lunch, he can wait.”

Elora leaned against the sink, palms braced on the cool stone. The rune-strips lining the mirror flickered in sync with her heartbeat, reacting to her agitation.

Kailee crossed her arms, grounding and fierce. “Okay. Talk. What’s going on?”

Elora swallowed hard. “It’s Gregory. He was staring at me the entire class. Not just watching — staring. And it felt like—like something was inside my head. Like his wolf wasn’t just aware of mine… it was hunting it.”

Kailee’s eyes widened, seriousness replacing her usual warmth. “That’s… intense, Lor.”

“You think?” Elora snapped, more sharply than she meant to. She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily. “This wasn’t just Gregory being Gregory. Something felt off. Wrong. And my wolf—she’s never reacted like that before.”

Kailee stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Look, he’s under a lot of pressure. His dad’s breathing down his neck about Alpha trials. Royal expectations are insane—”

“No,” Elora interrupted, shaking her head. “This wasn’t stress. It wasn’t him. It was something in him.”

Silence stretched between them.

Something in the room shifted.

Elora’s eyes darted to the mirror.

Their reflections stared back — Kailee steady and worried, Elora pale and tense. But then, for a heartbeat too long, Elora’s reflection didn’t blink when she did.

Its eyes glowed faint silver.

Its veins darkened at the edges.

And then—

It snapped back into place, perfectly normal.

Elora inhaled sharply.

Kailee hadn’t noticed. “Lor?”

Elora forced her expression still. “It’s nothing,” she lied. “Just tired.”

Kailee placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been having that dream more often. Maybe your instincts are just on high alert. It doesn’t mean anything is happening.”

Elora nodded, but her wolf whispered otherwise, curling tightly inside her chest.

This wasn’t tiredness.

This wasn’t imagination.

Something was shifting in the world around her — and inside her.

Her wolf did not doubt.

Her wolf dreaded.

The bell chimed again, echoing down the hall. Lunch.

Kailee squeezed her arm. “Come on. Let’s eat before Zayden tries to feed us whatever chaos he packed today.”

Elora managed a thin smile and followed her out of the bathroom.

But every step she took carried the same cold weight.

Something was wrong with Gregory.

Something ancient had brushed its awareness against her.

And the shadows in the corners of the hallway felt deeper than they had that morning.

Her wolf lifted its head, ears straining toward something only instinct could hear.

Dread coiled low in her stomach.

Something was coming.

Something that already knew her name.