Chapter Three

The carriage rolled smoothly along the main road, the magitech core humming beneath their feet. Outside the windows, Ancnix sprawled in layered stone and living metal, towers rising like carved fangs against the morning sky. Runes glowed faintly along archways and streetlamps, their light still soft from the night’s power cycle.

Inside, Kailee drove one-handed, completely at ease, the other hand draped over the top of the steering crystal.

She glanced sideways at Elora. “All right,” she said. “Tell me how much worse it got.”

Elora stared out the window for a moment, watching the forest loom beyond the city’s edge. “You’re assuming it got worse.”

Kailee snorted. “Lor, you answering my ‘you alive?’ message with ‘I’m coming’ instead of a sarcastic death joke is all the proof I need.”

Elora huffed out a quiet breath, not quite a laugh. “The ash came earlier this time,” she admitted. “Almost right away. We barely ran at all before the forest started changing.”

“And him?” Kailee’s voice softened. “Was he still there?”

“Yeah,” Elora said. “For a while. Then… no. Usually when I wake up, it feels like he’s just out of reach. Like the dream let go too soon. But this time it was different.” Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. “It felt like something pulled him away. On purpose.”

Kailee’s knuckles went white on the steering crystal. “I hate that.”

“So do I.”

“Did you feel anything?” Kailee pressed. “Like a presence? A voice?”

Elora thought of the whisper—Run. The way it slithered through her bones, cold and old and not hers.

“Maybe,” she said slowly. “But I can’t tell if it was mine or… something else.”

Kailee’s jaw clenched. “Well, whatever it is, if it thinks it can scare you into losing sleep before graduation week, it can fight me.”

Elora actually laughed that time. “You keep threatening to fight my subconscious.”

“Maybe it deserves it.” Kailee shot her a look, softer now. “I mean it, Lor. You don’t have to figure any of this out alone. If the dreams keep changing, you tell me. Every time. Deal?”

Elora hesitated, then nodded. “Deal.”

“Good.” Kailee straightened as they merged into the traffic stream toward the academy. “Now we can also worry about normal things. Like the fact that Gregory will probably be lurking at the lockers trying to give royal speeches before first bell.”

The warmth in Elora’s chest cooled.

“You had to remind me of that,” she muttered.

Kailee grimaced. “Sorry. But hey, Zayden will be there too. If Gregory’s the storm, Zayden’s… I don’t know. The sun after it?”

Elora smiled faintly. “You’re terrible with metaphors.”

“I’m excellent with metaphors. You’re just grumpy.”

The carriage crested a small hill, and the academy came into view.

MoonShadow High rose from the stone like it had grown there, white and dark metal fused with ancient rock, banners bearing Mahina’s crescent snapping in the wind. Training fields spread out behind it, warriors already sparring in the early light. The familiar rhythm of shouted commands and clashing steel drifted faintly through the air.

The carriage slowed as they approached the courtyard. Kailee eased it into a spot near the student entrance, the core dimming with a soft sigh as she set the brakes.

“Ready?” she asked.

“No,” Elora said honestly.

“Too bad,” Kailee replied, grinning. “That’s never stopped you before.”

They climbed out together.

The courtyard buzzed with movement—students in bronze, silver, and gold cloaks moving in clusters, talking about exams, training placements, and graduation plans. The air smelled of stone dust, oil from weapon racks, and the lingering sweetness of the bakery stall that sometimes set up near the gates.

As they stepped into the flow, someone called out.

“Elora! Kailee!”

Zayden Storm stood near the rows of lockers, one shoulder propped against the stone, arms crossed, grin easy and bright. His golden-tan skin caught the light, and his eyes—warm amber—sparked when Kailee approached.

“There you are,” he said, straightening. “I was starting to think you’d ditched me for a better ride.”

“As if there’s a better ride than my masterpiece,” Kailee scoffed, jerking a thumb toward her carriage. “She purrs.”

“She rattles,” Zayden corrected. “Affectionately.”

Elora watched the fond bickering unfold, some of the tension loosening in her chest. They were strange comfort, the two of them—sun and spark, loud enough to drown out the echoes in her head when she needed it.

Zayden turned to her. “You good, Lor?”

“Just tired,” she said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Before he could reply, another presence slid into their orbit.

“Good morning.”

Gregory Forstfang approached with slow, measured steps, as if the world might rearrange itself to make room for him. Future Alpha King. Perfect posture. Perfect hair. Perfect smile that no longer reached his eyes.

He looked older than eighteen when he stood like that—older and far more dangerous.

“Elora,” he said, voice smooth and polite. “You look… worn out.”

She resisted the urge to step back. “Didn’t sleep well,” she answered, keeping her tone even.

“Again?” Gregory’s gaze sharpened. “You should prioritize your rest. The academy won’t be lenient if you stumble during evaluations.”

Zayden made a soft sound of warning. “Greg—”

“I’m just concerned,” Gregory said mildly, though his eyes never left Elora’s face. “She’s one of our strongest. It would be a waste to see that dulled by distraction.”

Elora’s wolf bristled. Distraction. The word landed with more weight than it should have. Her family. Her dreams. Her choices. All reduced to distractions.

“I’ll manage,” she replied.

“I’m sure you will,” Gregory said, smiling now. “You always do.”

The way he said it made her feel like she was already his accomplishment.

Kailee stepped in, voice bright with just enough edge. “We should get to our lockers before the bell. Some of us like to actually show up prepared.”

Zayden snorted. “You mean you like to reorganize your entire bag three times before first class.”

“It’s a system,” Kailee shot back.

As they moved toward their lockers, Gregory fell into step beside Elora instead of peeling away. The closeness set her teeth on edge. His arm brushed her cloak, and the instinct to shift and put distance between them rose sharp and sudden.

“You’re still undecided about the academy?” he asked quietly.

Elora kept her eyes ahead. “I told you. I’m thinking about it.”

“Think carefully,” Gregory said. “There are expectations for someone with your talent. For someone from your House. For someone who…” His gaze slid sideways, heavy enough that she felt it, not just saw it. “Is part of our future.”

Cold settled under her skin like a second layer.

“Expectations aren’t the same as choices,” she said quietly.

For a heartbeat, his expression tightened. Then the mask slipped back into place. “You’re tired. We can talk about it another time.”

The bell rang overhead, sharp and echoing.

Students scattered toward classrooms, conversation breaking apart like water around stone.

Kailee caught Elora’s wrist. “Come on.”

Elora let herself be pulled along, but as they neared the classroom doors, something made her glance back.

Gregory still stood by the lockers, watching her.

Not like a friend.

Not like a classmate.

Like a hunter watching the path its prey always takes.

A chill rippled down her spine, far too similar to the one in her dream.

Outside, the morning light dimmed behind a passing cloud, and for a heartbeat, the shadows along the corridor seemed to stretch—reaching, listening.

Something was moving closer.

From her dreams.

From the dark.

From the future she didn’t choose.

And Elora couldn’t tell yet whether she was meant to run from it—

—or straight toward it.