Chapter 4

"I didn't do it," I said.

Adrian's followers didn't let me finish.

"Give it a rest." A tall boy folded his arms. "Everyone in this school knows how obsessed you are with him."

"You tore up your own letter this morning and now the whole wall is destroyed? Who else would do that?"

"She snapped," another one said. "Not even surprising."

I didn't raise my voice. There was no point arguing with a crowd that had picked its villain.

I remembered this from my past life. Every detail. The destroyed wall, the claw marks, every letter addressed to Adrian ripped to pieces except mine.

My wish letter had been the one left untouched, hanging there like a confession. The evidence was damning and elegant.

Adrian accepted my letter anyway, and the whole incident disappeared. Nobody found the real culprit. Nobody looked.

I was too happy being chosen to care about clearing my name. Grateful, giddy, blinded by the thing I'd wanted most.

But this time, I wasn't the lovesick girl who was too grateful to think straight.

"Follow me," I said.

The confession wall stretched the length of the east corridor. Three meters of dark stone where wish letters had been pinned in careful rows every year since the Academy opened.

Now it was a mess.

Deep claw marks scored the surface from ceiling to waist height, gouged into the stone at sharp, violent angles. Whoever had done this was strong and fast and furious.

Shredded paper littered the floor like confetti. Pushpins scattered across the tiles.

A few girls stood near the edges, red-eyed, staring at the empty spots where their letters used to be. Some of them glared at me when I approached.

I ignored them.

The crowd from the cafeteria filled the corridor behind me. Adrian stood at the front, arms crossed, watching me with the patient expression of someone waiting for a confession.

I stepped up to the wall and breathed in through my nose. Slow, deep, letting each layer separate.

My sense of smell had been sharper than most wolves' for as long as I could remember. Even before awakening, even before my wolf, my senses ran stronger than average. It was one of the reasons Silvercrest valued my bloodline.

I sorted through layers of scent. Ripped paper, adhesive, stone dust, the faded traces of a dozen students who'd touched the wall that morning. Underneath all of it, clinging to the deepest claw marks, a faint herbal sharpness.

Nightbloom grass. Used in alchemy class as a masking agent. Coat your claws in it and your scent signature disappears from whatever you touch.

My gaze swept the crowd and stopped on a small figure half-hidden behind a taller student near the back. Lila. Her eyes were darting sideways, her lips pressed thin.

Her hands were clasped so tight her knuckles were white, and her shoulders were pulled up around her ears. The posture of someone trying to disappear.

So it was her. Same as last time.

But I couldn't just point a finger. Most students couldn't detect a scent this faint. I needed proof they could see for themselves.

My silence was taken as guilt. The crowd grew louder.

"She can't even defend herself—"

"Just admit it!"

"Quiet." My voice cut through the noise.

"Does anyone have nightbloom reagent? The blue solution from Professor Reeves's alchemy class."

A girl near the front frowned, dug through her bag, and held up a small glass vial of blue liquid. "I carry it for notes. What do you need it for?"

I scraped a pinch of dust from the deepest claw mark and dropped it into the vial. The blue solution swirled once, twice, then bloomed into vivid pink.

Someone gasped. "That's nightbloom grass!"

At that concentration, the herbal scent hit them all at once. Heads turned. Noses twitched.

The scent trail led in one direction.

"Whoever destroyed these letters coated their claws in nightbloom grass to mask their scent." I looked at Lila. "And the trail is strongest right there."

Every head in the corridor turned.

Lila tried to step back. Someone caught her arm and pushed her forward. She stumbled, caught herself on the wall, and burst into tears.

"I didn't mean to!" she sobbed, covering her face. "Someone covered my wish letter with theirs, and I was so upset I couldn't think."

"I started tearing everything down. When I realized what I'd done, I was so ashamed I ripped up my own letter too."

Covering a student's letter was a well-known form of bullying at the Academy. Lila's face was blotched and wet, her shoulders heaving.

Several angry faces in the crowd softened. A girl nearby murmured, "Poor thing."

Adrian stepped forward and pulled Lila to her feet. His hand was warm on her arm, his expression kind.

"It's alright, Lila." His voice was understanding.

"Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is knowing you were wrong."

Lila sniffled and leaned into his shoulder. He let her stay there.

His hand rested on her back, steady, protective. The perfect image of a good man comforting someone weaker.

I watched them and let out a quiet, cold laugh. He was already shielding her. Already choosing.

Same routine. Different lifetime.

"Break it up." Mr. Valerius appeared around the corner, his stride unhurried, his expression unreadable.

His eyes moved across the scene: ruined wall, crying omega, the Alpha's son playing protector, a crowd blocking the corridor. Something flickered behind his expression, too fast to read. His gaze landed on me last, and stayed.

"Class starts in five minutes. Everyone to your seats."

He turned to me. "Kaia. Come with me."

Mr. Valerius's office smelled like old leather and black tea. The bookshelves were neat, the desk uncluttered.

A single framed landscape hung on the wall: mountains in snow, the kind of painting that belonged in a much bigger room.

He sat down, leaned back in his chair, and studied me. His gaze was direct, unhurried, and entirely too perceptive for a teacher making small talk.

"You didn't submit a wish letter."

"No."

"This is the last mating dance before the awakening ceremony. For most students, it's the most significant event of their school years."

He folded his hands on the desk. "Missing it would be unfortunate. I'd encourage you to think carefully about who you might want to invite."

He was being professional. Doing his job, making sure no student drifted into something they'd regret.

On awakening night, bonds formed. Fated mates discovered each other.

For some people, the mating dance was a formality. For others, it decided the rest of their lives.

But I was tired of being careful. Careful got me killed.

"What if I invited you, Mr. Valerius?"

I tilted my head and met his eyes. "Would that count?"