Chapter 010

NOVA

      I didn't sleep well. That's what happens when you try to live a life that isn't yours and survive in a den of monsters. But I haven't forgotten the main reason that brought me to the academy. And that's why I'd sneaked into the library a few minutes ago.

It's almost seven a.m. Therefore, I have to be quick about this. My fingers skim along the books on the shelf in the Ceremony and Culture section, and finally, I find a red book. It's titled "The Red Moon Tournament."

I have a feeling that the information in it is vague. If it was detailed enough, it would be more likely to be kept in the archives. I scan the pages, taking in the important information in it.

According to the book, the ceremony is done when the moon turns crimson and the gate to the underworld opens. During this time, werewolves are at their weakest, and only the most determined can complete the rounds. Apparently, it was first used by the werewolf militants responsible for protecting their packs from vampires and demons in preparation for unforeseen events, blah blah blah.

What the heck does this have to do with Leo? Was his wolf too weak?

No, wait. His friends never told me if the tournament actually took place. Or if he participated in it. So what gives?

"Boo!" A husky voice drones from behind me, and I flinch, slamming the book shut with my heart in my throat. I whirl around, and there he is, standing there with a questioning look on his face. Uriel.

Why is he even here?

I didn't think he was the type of person who was mischievous enough to play tricks on others.

"What are you doing here?" He asks languidly, his gaze drifting across my face before resting on the book in my hand.

I try to let out a chuckle that isn't awkward, hiding the book behind me. But I'm sure you can tell by now that my effort was a total fluke.

"Just trying to figure out stuff. You know, with the memory loss and stuff," I say, and he smiles softly.

Ah, he's a stunner. But strangely, he looks too pale today. He's wearing a black hoodie, and his thick hair isn't bound. And he smells fresh like mint.

"What about you? What are you doing here?" I ask. He lowers his gaze to the ground and bites his lower lip lightly.

"I guess you really don't remember. I love books. Sometimes I sleep in here just to smell them. I love to read too, so...the library is kind of like my sacred space?"

He's so soft-spoken, even with his husky voice.

"Oh...I can leave right now..." I start to say, and his gaze meets mine once more.

"You don't have to. I'm heading to class. Our first class starts by seven today, did you forget?"

"Right! Off we go then," I beam and turn towards the door, waiting for him to lead. Wait, did I sound too girly just now?

I glance at Uriel to see if he notices. But he just shakes his head lightly and moves first while I follow behind him.

Once we get to class, I freeze for a moment at the sight of Rhydar. Despite how rowdy the class is, he grabs my attention so easily. He's slumped on his desk, his dark hair covering a portion of his facial features. Is he asleep? Is he still sick? I can't help but wonder. He'd been lying on his bed with his back to me when I'd sneaked out earlier. A part of me had feared that he would do something to freak me out. But he didn't. And somehow, that was scarier.

"Alright, boys. Settle down!" The voice of the instructor booms through the room, and everyone shuffles to their seats, and I end up being stuck in front of Rhydar. I can't help it, I keep glancing at him through the corner of my eye, but he still doesn't move.

Just then, a familiar face saunters in. I freeze in my seat. It's Scarface. Uriel turns to look at me. His features are blank, but somehow, I can tell he's concerned. The other boys begin to whisper and chatter.

"Keep it down!" The instructor hisses before turning to look at Scarface.

"Settle down. This isn't a violence class. One more stunt from you and you're out," he tells him.

My throat constricts when Scarface's bottomless eyes meet mine from where he stands. He cracks a smile at me and heads over to an empty seat. If he was supposed to have been expelled, why in the world is he back here? What's wrong with the fucking academic system?

Mother Selene, I think I'm screwed.

"Alright, quick announcement. A new date has been decided for the Red Moon Tournament, which was postponed before. It will take place in the month of October."

I stiffen, my heart pounding faster. Three months. Can I stay alive in this academy for that long? It doesn't matter. I'll fight. I'll claw my way through, no matter what. That's what my brother taught me. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

"By the way, welcome back, Creed. It's good to see you again," the instructor says, and all eyes dart over to me. It takes so much effort not to squirm.

"Alright, let's begin the written test. You have just ten minutes. Nothing more," he goes on to say, and my brain freezes.

A test?

We have a freaking test?

What the hell am I supposed to write? I don't even know the name of the class or the instructor!

I swallow hard as papers are distributed around. To my surprise, Rhydar has not moved.

"Wait...why isn't the instructor saying anything about Rhydar?" I whisper to Uriel, who simply shrugs.

"It's an unspoken rule. Tier 0 students shouldn't be messed with."

"There's another Tier 0, student?" I ask.

"Yeah. But Rhydar's the only one in our rank."

I don't know whether to be impressed or terrified.

"No more talking, Creed. Focus," the instructor says, and I grimace, finally reading the words on the paper.

"List the seven strategic tiers used during battle simulations and explain how Alpha-ranking operatives are integrated within non-dominant group hierarchies."

My eyes scan the sentence again. And again. But it blurs, every word melting into nonsense. I blink hard, trying to focus.

One: I don't know the answer.

Two: My entire body is betraying me.

A dull ache begins in my lower abdomen, pulsing outwards. I shift in my seat, trying to stretch discreetly, but the movement sends heat crawling across my skin. My spine stiffens. My thighs press together on instinct.

No. No, not now. Please, not—

A wave of hot pressure crashes through me, followed by a warmth that pools deep inside my core. My stomach clenches and I press a palm over it beneath the desk, trying to soothe the sudden cramp. My jaw tightens. I bite the inside of my cheek.

It's too early. My heat is too early.

I clench my hands around my pen, willing myself to stay still. I have to stay normal. But my skin already feels too tight.

The bead scent blockers around my wrist are beginning to strain. I can tell. A thin thread of power pulses through them like static.

I wipe my forehead, and find that my palm is wet. I'm sweating already. Fuck, I'm so screwed.

The worst part isn't even the heat. It's his scent.

Rhydar's

It is slipping past my defense and tangling into my senses. I'm already hyperaware of him.

He's so close.

His breath is soft and he's still slumped on his desk behind me, unbothered. But even asleep, his presence is overwhelming.

My thighs clench tighter.

'Don't you dare, Nova.'

I grip the edges of the desk hard, my jaw aching from how tightly I'm grinding my teeth.

I'm burning up. I can't focus. I can't think. My brain is a fog of instinct and urgency.

Touch.

Relief.

Touch.

Rhydar.

No. No no no. Please.

My scent is oozing now. And as if on cue, I hear a soft sniff behind me. Rhydar is stirring.

Fuck.

I have to get out of here. NOW.

"Instructor," I choke already rising to my feet, my voice strained and unrecognizable.

He frowns at me.

"I need to use the bathroom," I croak but I don't wait for his reply. I shove my chair back with a loud screech and run.

I'm already wet down there and I'm panicking, the whole place blurring around me. I stumble down the hallway and pause, holding a shaking hand to the wall.

A whimper escapes me and I double over as my stomach tightens. Someone's going to find me. Someone's going to—

The hair on the back of my neck rises stiffly because I hear it. Footsteps.

No, no, no.

The newcomer's scent hits me and I gasp.

It's him. Shit.

"Looking for these?"

I whirl around and I see Rhydar.

He's striding towards me with a predatory look in his red eyes as he holds up a sachet of my suppressant pills between two of his fingers.

"I think you’re going to need these, sweetheart," he drawls and blood drains from my face.

He fucking knows.