Chapter 9

TEYA'S POV

“I... I need Reya Wellington dorm number,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I locked eyes with her.

"No." She replied coldly. 

No? 

The dorm mistress didn’t even look up from the stack of papers on her desk. Her lips tightened as she scribbled something, then sighed dramatically as though I was disturbing her peace, like an unwanted pest. “I’m busy, child. Go away.”

“But—”

“I said I’m busy.” The woman finally looked up, eyes stern behind her glasses. “Come back later, or not at all. I wonder what you need that for."

My mouth opened, but the lump in my throat choked the words I wanted to say. I couldn't tell her that she is my sister and that I'm here to investigate her death. The woman waved me off like a fly. “I said no. Now leave before I write you up for harassment. Close the door behind you.”

Anger swirled through my being, Notting my gut in an insufferable way.

I badly wanted to scream, to grab her hair and tell her how important it was. How every second could be fatal. I could easily yank her jaw and knock some sense into her or I could walk away like a helpless wolf-less coward.

The door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the corridor like a gavel. 

I chose the latter.

I stood there for a moment, stunned. I didn’t realize my fists were clenched until I felt the bite of my nails digging into my palms.

Determined not to give up, I began making her way to the dormitories where the human students were housed. At least one of them should know where my sister's dorm room was. The first building was three floors high, with a dull gray exterior and narrow windows. I approached the receptionist and explained my situation.

"Hello, good morning. Do you happen to know if Reya Wellington resided here?" I asked, my voice filled with hope. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman said curtly, without even glancing up. “No student here by that name.”

Maybe she didn't hear the name. Or she didn't know her well enough. “Could I at least ask some of the students? Maybe she used a nickname—”

“No loitering. Move along.”

I didn’t move. I needed answers and she wasn't even bothering to help me. “Please if you could just—”

“I said move.”

I left, my shoulders tense and my mouth dry and bitter. 

The second dorm was even worse. A tall boy with a sneer told me to “piss off” before slamming the door right in my face. He would have broken my nose if I stepped back just a second later. 

The third was empty. Classes. 

At the fourth, a tired-looking girl offered me a polite shrug. “Sorry. I don’t know anyone named Reya.”

By the fifth dorm, my legs ached and my patience wore thin. I was this close to snapping. I pressed the buzzer and waited. A sharp click and the door cracked open just enough for a girl with dyed green hair to poke her head out.

“Who’re you?”

“Hi. I'm Teya and I’m actually looking for someone. Her name is Reya. She—”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t know her. Bye.”

The door shut.

I stared at the closed door, chest heaving. My hands trembled from cold, exhaustion, and frustration. How is it that no single person knew Reya. Or maybe no one cared that a student could just vanish from this place without anyone raising the alarm.

I turned, ready to walk back through the long hallway connecting the dormitories to my own. 

SPLASH. 

An ice cold weight drenched me from head to toe. Water sloshed off my shoulders and splattered across the tiled floor, hugging her clothes to the curve of my body.

I gasped, my breath stolen by the sudden chill. 

Laughter rang out from above me and I looked up, blinking through wet strands of hair. A group of girls stood on the landing, each with the same smug, cruel smirk.

Of course.

“Oops,” one of them said. “We were aiming for the trash.”

“Guess we hit it anyway,” another giggled.

I shivered, water dripping from my clothes. I said nothing at all, only looked at them—eyes narrow, fists clenched. Even though I knew there was nothing I could do to them. 

“She looks better this way,” the tallest one drawled. “Honestly, we did you a favor. You were starting to smell like desperation.”

“She’s the weird new girl, right?” another chimed in. “The one always sneaking around asking questions. You think you're special or something?”

I straightened slowly, resisting the urge to scream at them. “Who sent you? Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re filthy,” the first girl said with a mocking pout. “And filthy things need to be cleaned or cleared out.”

The others laughed harder. One of them even took out her phone and took a picture.

I felt my blood boiling. But I said nothing. Not because I wasn’t angry—oh no. I was furious. But because I was alone. Outnumbered. Weak. And I knew how these things worked. The moment I lashed out, I would be the one punished.

Even though I was a human girl with status and the rest, they were still werewolves. They were stronger and faster than me. 

I thought about the school’s pamphlet again—Bully-Free Zone. A Safe Space for All Species.

What a joke. I snorted 

They started to descend the stairs, slow and taunting a bit to intimidate me.

Was I scared??.

No. Yes. Maybe. 

One girl shoved my shoulder as she passed, sending me stumbling into the wall.

“She’s not even worth our time,” the girl muttered. “But maybe she’ll learn not to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

They closed in on me and the tallest one stretched out her hands. To slap me? To shove me, grab my hair? But I would never know because at that moment a deep voice echoed through the corridor, smooth and sharp like a blade drawn from its sheath. And I recognized it. 

I froze and so did the girls, their wretched faces drained of blood, fear crawled its way to their being nudging them till all they could do was still, too afraid to shiver.

My gaze met his; sharp, darkened in rage, his smooth jawline clenching, probably seconds away from scattering at the impact.

Holy shit. It was the guy from the supermarket. The arrogant prick who felt everyone was beneath him. 

He didn't look like him, he looked more dangerous, dispelling a chilling aura. He stood, his perfect body fitted into his Italian suit like he was born with it. The outfit does nothing to hide his muscular physique. He was gorgeous. Too infuriating gorgeous.

Those green dark eyes still prying on my bullies

He spoke, authoritatively, slicing through the dead silent hall.

“Touch her and lose that fucking hand.”