Chapter 21

The morning light slanted through the windows, catching the specks of dust floating lazily in the air. I adjusted my grip on my green tea matcha latte and glanced around the foyer, already mentally checking off my list of things to do for the day. A little caffeine, a little fresh air, and maybe a moment of peace—just one damn moment where I wasn’t hounded by chaos or them.

But, as always, this house couldn’t let me breathe.

Jace was sprawled across the entryway table in his wolf form, completely unconscious. His massive body took up the entire surface, his tail dangling off the edge. The sharp tang of alcohol clung to the air around him, and judging by the broken glass on the floor and the uneven rise and fall of his chest, he’d clearly had one hell of a night. Whiskey, I guessed. It reeked.

I rolled my eyes, careful not to make a sound as I tiptoed past him. The last thing I needed was for the wolf to wake up, groggy—also hopefully dying of a migraine—and ruin my morning. I was halfway to the front door when my foot caught on a discarded bottle. I froze, holding my breath. The bottle teetered for a moment, and then, mercifully, settled back down.

A relieved breath expelled from me. Well, that was way too close.

Unfortunately, however, the second I opened the door, I nearly tripped over something—or rather, someone—blocking the porch.

“What the hell?” I hissed, stumbling as my tea sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the cup.

Hunter. Of course, it was Hunter. He was always lurking at the most questionable and inconvenient places.

He was sitting cross-legged on the porch steps, his broad shoulders hunched as he casually scrolled through his phone like he has zero fucks to give. The sunlight struck his dark hair, igniting the crimson streak so it blazed like fire, and his maddeningly calm demeanor made me want to hurl my drink at him.

“Good morning to you too, little monster,” he drawled without even looking up.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped, straightening myself. “Who just sits in the middle of where people walk? Are you incapable of being normal, or is this some kind of special talent?”

Finally, he glanced up, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “You seemed in a rush. Thought I’d slow you down a little.”

I clenched my jaw, glaring at him as he unfolded himself and leaned against the porch railing with a lazy, almost smug air. “Move.”

He got up, stepping aside with a slight bow, the smirk on his face never faltering. “Where are you off to so early?”

“None of your business,” I bit out, making my way down the stairs. My tea burned in my hand, but I welcomed the heat. It was grounding, a distraction from the sheer audacity of this man.

I was almost to the driveway when something clicked in my brain. My feet halted, and I turned on my heel so fast, I nearly spilled my drink. Narrowing my eyes, I pointed a finger at him.

“Wait a minute,” I said, suspicion lacing my tone. “During the attack, you also got injected with wolfsbane.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a knowing grin. “I might have a faint recollection of that, yes.”

“And yet, here you are, perfectly fine,” I said, gesturing at him. “How the hell did you recover so fast from it?”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the railing like we were discussing the weather. “I have my ways.”

My temper flared. I took a stride toward him, shoving my free hand on my hip. “You’re telling me you had some kind of workaround—some cure—and you didn’t think to share? You just let me…” I stopped short, sucking in a sharp breath as the memory of that safe—its suffocating darkness—rose unbidden in my mind.

Hunter’s grin only widened, his icy eyes narrowing slightly. “Careful, little monster,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Things don’t bode well for you when you get this close to my personal space.”

I glared at him, my jaw tightening as my chest burned with unspoken insults. He was impossible—every bit of him radiated that infuriating, self-assured smugness that made me want to claw his face off.

But instead of dignifying him with another response, I twisted around and stomped toward the garage. If he wanted to play games, fine. I had better things to do.

The sleek black car gleamed in the morning sun, and I smirked as I climbed into the driver’s seat. My father would throw a fit if he found out I’d borrowed one of his prized toys without asking. But he’s going to shit on me anyway, so might as well have fun while it lasts.

With a sharp turn of the key, the engine roared to life, and I peeled out of the driveway, leaving Hunter—and his infuriating smirk—behind.

The drive to Nightfall Academy felt like stepping through a portal to another world. The sprawling campus rose from a sea of evergreens, the towering gothic buildings framed by the early morning fog. Intricate stone wolves leered down from the corners of slate rooftops, and ivy crawled along the aged brick walls, giving the place an air of ancient grandeur. The main building—an imposing structure of arched windows and spires that scraped the sky—sat at the heart of the campus. A cobblestone path wound through manicured lawns and past marble fountains that glittered in the sunlight, their waters catching rainbows as they cascaded down into crystal-clear basins.

Despite the beauty of the campus, unease simmered low in my gut. I tightened my grip on the leather folder containing my enrollment forms as I parked the car in a visitor’s space and stepped out. My boots clicked against the cobblestones, and the sound echoed in the crisp air.

Students milled about the grounds in small clusters, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were all polished—designer clothes, perfect hair, and the kind of confidence that came from knowing they belonged in a place like this. A few heads turned as I passed, whispers following in my wake like the trailing smoke of a fire I couldn’t quite extinguish. I squared my shoulders and kept my gaze forward, pretending their stares didn’t bother me.