#2 Tower Princess with Amnesia

Isandra POV

Apparently, I was royalty now. Or cursed. Honestly, it was hard to tell at this point. I stared down at the glowing display on my N.O.V.A. Pad as it pinged again: Room: East Wing, Tower 3, Suite 1 Route locked. Elevator access granted.

I looked up. The tower loomed above me like something out of a medieval fever dream. It was black stone spiraling up into the foggy sky, sharp spires like dragon teeth piercing the clouds. Gothic, foreboding… and apparently, mine. “Cool, cool, yeah,” I muttered. “Let’s just toss the traumatized werewolf into a Disney villain tower.”

I followed the glowing arrow on my pad to a sleek obsidian elevator tucked into the base of the tower. There were no buttons, just a swirling rune on the wall. The moment my palm hovered near it, the elevator whooshed open and welcomed me with a gust of cool, magically scented air.

Inside, a soft voice whispered, “Isandra Haddock. Top floor access. Welcome home.” I blinked. “Home? I barely know my name.” The doors shut, and I ascended like a gothic Rapunzel in a malfunctioning fairytale.

The elevator opened into… heaven. I stepped out into a sprawling open space with vaulted ceilings, warm lighting, enchanted windows that shifted from starlight to sunset view, and floors polished to a mirror shine.

There was a kitchen. A full living room with enchanted flat screens. A freaking hot tub built into a sunken marble corner near the windows. A walk-in waterfall shower that glowed with blue runes. Four bedrooms, a desk area, and both a laptop and a crystal trimmed desktop computer already logged in to something called “GraveNet.”

And sitting neatly on the bed in the center of the largest room… was a box. On top of it sat a brand new cell phone. And a note.

“Isandra, darling.

This is your grandmother, Alise Haddock. I’m your patron. I’ve covered your tuition and accommodations.

Learn well, pup. I’ll see you at the Solstice Ball.

—Alise”

I read it three times. Then once upside down. Then once more just to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating. “What the actual fuck is happening,” I whispered.

Was I dreaming? In a coma? Dying somewhere under that crater? Because this felt like the beginning of a fever dream romance novel. But without the romance. Or memory.

On the floor beside the bed were twelve enormous bags.

Full of clothing. Shoes. Jewelry. Skincare. Makeup. A rainbow of bras. Everything from combat boots to fluffy bathrobes with my initials on the tag: I.H.

In the bathroom, I found expensive shampoo and conditioner, perfume, lip gloss, bath oils. The kind of shit rich girls posted on TikTok in aesthetically pleasing “get ready with me” videos. And it was all mine.

I unpacked in a daze. Drawer after drawer. Designer jackets. Magical uniforms. Combat gear. Lingerie that could probably cause a riot. And hanging in the closet of dreams were three stunning formal gowns.

One was black with shimmering constellations embroidered into the silk. One was deep violet and hugged the body like a second skin. And the last… silver. Elegant. and ethereal. Like moonlight woven into fabric.

There were full length mirrors. Vanity lights. Floating makeup brushes. I turned slowly in front of one of the mirrors, finally taking myself in. My reflection stared back, familiar and foreign.

Long black hair, streaked with violet like I'd dipped my ends in stardust. High cheekbones. Full lips.

Pierced nose. Arms marked with swirling, delicate tattoos I couldn’t remember getting but instinctively knew were mine. My eyes were hazel and wild. Searching. Beautiful, yes. But… haunted. “Who the hell am I?” I whispered.

And then, like something clicked, I gasped—sharp and loud. A flood of heat rolled through my chest and up my spine. My knees buckled. I grabbed the edge of the vanity.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words tumbled out of my mouth like they had been waiting for release. And then came the voice. It was soft, warm and feminine. “I’m here, love. Finally. I’m your wolf.”

My breath caught. I froze. “Wh—what?”

“Sorry it took a while. That memory lock was a bitch to claw through. My name’s Genoa. You can call me Gen!”

I blinked hard. “I have a talking wolf in my head. I’m officially cracked.”

“Nope! Just awakened, babe. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve been stuck in your mind for, like, ever.”

I laughed. A shaky, giddy, mildly unhinged sound. “Oh my god. This is… awesome. Horrifying, but awesome.”

“Right? You’re hot. We’re hot. This is gonna be fun.”

I smiled. For the first time since waking up in that crater… I felt less alone. “Gen,” I whispered. “Do you know why everything’s locked?”

“No idea, girl. But I’m here now. And I’ve got your back.”

I straightened, my reflection more solid than before. Me. Isandra. Still confused. Still memory wiped. But no longer hollow.

I plopped onto the plush, oversized desk chair and opened the thick envelope the admissions clerk had given me.

Inside: A detailed class schedule A campus map Magical ID and emergency contact crystals A handbook for “Magical Integration Expectations” And a welcome letter from the Gravemire Dean with instructions on using the N.O.V.A. Pad I flipped to the schedule first.

Class Schedule: Year One – Isandra Haddock

Monday / Wednesday / Friday

8:00 AM – Advanced Magical Literature

10:00 AM – Shifting 101

1:00 PM – Magical History I

Tuesday / Thursday

9:00 AM – Magical Theory Year I

11:00 AM – Combat Training – Level 1

2:00 PM – Introduction to Magical Creatures

Daily Meal Times:

Breakfast: 5:00 AM – 11:00 AM

Lunch: 12:00 PM – 3:00 PM

Dinner: 5:00 PM – 8:00 PM

Under that was a map of Gravemire: five towers, a massive library, a training field, a floating greenhouse, two lakes, and something labeled “The Forbidden Vault.”

Fun. I turned to the N.O.V.A. and followed the setup instructions: entered my name, photo, class code, and dorm assignment. It beeped, then blinked to life. Up popped my schedule. My full interactive castle map. And… a glowing icon labeled: GraveFeed. I tapped it. A magical social feed opened like a twisted version of F******k.

RonanDuskbane posted:

“New moon training group meets at midnight. If you’re too slow, don’t bother showing up.”

KaelithD posted a poll:

“Who’s hotter: me, or me on fire?”

Faculty Reminder:

“Do not summon demons in the cafeteria again.”

I sat back and let out a long, slow breath. Magic. Memory loss. Monsters. And a talking wolf in my head.

This was going to be wild.