All Chapters of Moonchild; The Rise Of the Lycans: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Nivia POVThe Days of Plague Intensified.By the fourth morning, the compound smelled strange.It was faint at first, something sour under the usual scent of soap and cheap detergent. I noticed it even before I opened my eyes, drifting in through the little gap under the door.I lay still, listening.Rachel’s breathing was rougher than usual. She had been tossing most of the night, her leg throbbing. The boils had not spread far, but the skin around the big one was angry and hot, the nurse’s ointment only making it bearable instead of unbearable.I rolled onto my side and looked at her. She lay on her back, blanket twisted around her waist, one knee propped up so the fabric did not touch the swollen area. Her lips were chapped. A faint sheen of sweat glowed on her forehead.“Rachel,” I whispered.Her eyes opened slowly. “Is it time?” she asked. Her voice sounded dry.“The bell hasn’t gone yet,” I said. “You okay?”“Thirsty,” she muttered.“Hold on.” I swung my legs to the floor, shive

Nivia POV.The dining hall noise blurred. My vision dimmed for a moment, then snapped back. Rachel was watching me closely, spoon forgotten in her hand.“Nivia?” she asked. “Where did you go?”“I’m here,” I said quietly.Justin came back, a water bottle in his hand. He set it on the table carefully, like it might break.“I haven’t opened it since last night,” he said. “Filled it from the staff kitchen tap. They say those taps are connected to a different line.”He twisted the cap slowly. We all leaned in. No immediate smell hit us.He lifted the bottle, sniffed cautiously, then frowned. “It’s…not as bad,” he said. “Still a little off, but nothing like the hostel taps.”He held it out to me. “You first.”“I’m not that thirsty,” I lied.Rachel reached for it. “I am,” she said. “If I die, tell my mother I didn’t go quietly.”“Don’t joke like that,” I snapped.She rolled her eyes, then took a small sip. Her face scrunched. She swallowed anyway.“Well?” I asked.“It tastes like metal,” she

Nivia POV.Claire stepped out from the shadow of the old classroom block.Sonia and Stephanie flanked her, like always. Their clothes were perfect, ties straight, hair neatly braided. In the half-light, they looked like they had stepped out of a school brochure, if you ignored the hard set of their mouths and the way their eyes watched me without any warmth.Every instinct in me said, Keep walking. Call for someone. Wait for Justin.My feet stayed where they were.“What do you want?” I asked. My voice sounded thin in the open air.Claire smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.“We wanted to talk,” she said. “You never seem to have time in the day. Always with your precious bodyguard.”Her tone made “precious” sound like an insult.“I’m on my way to the hostel,” I said, as a matter of fact. “He’s waiting for me.”“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Sonia said. “He’s always waiting for you now.”Stephanie snorted. “Like a dog.”Anger flickered, then died quickly, smothered by unease.“I don’t have time fo

Nivia POV.An ache welled up inside my heart.Not sharp like anger, but deep and heavy.Faces rose in my mind. The boy in the infirmary with a fever. The girl whose boils had burst and left her crying in the shower. Rachel, gritting her teeth through pain and still cracking jokes. Justin, shoulders tight with responsibility he hadn’t asked for. Even Mateo, eyes shadowed with guilt he would not explain.Even Claire, kneeling in front of me now with her fists clenched. Fear, hiding under all that cruelty.I thought of the birds lying still in the field. The fish dying in their buckets. The dog that had turned from the sour puddle, whining softly.It pressed down on me, all at once. The wrongness of it. The waste.Tears spilled over, stinging the cut at my brow.“Enough!" I thought, not to the wraiths, not to Claire, but to the vast, wordless presence that had always been just beyond my reach.I didn't know if the goddess had a name. I had never been taught proper prayers. My gmother had

Nivia POV.The field that had been brown and cracking only minutes before now wore a thin shawl of green. Not lush yet, but alive. Tiny blades of grass, bright and earnest. The cracks in the soil had filled with damp, the earth dark and soft.The air tasted clean.Far across the compound, laughter rose again. This time, it sounded less like panic. More like relief breaking through shock.“It stopped hurting,” someone shouted.“My boils—look! They’re fading!”“The water! Check the taps!”Footsteps thundered on corridors. Doors slammed open. Voices tumbled over one another.Claire made a strangled sound.I turned.She stood with her back half to me, eyes fixed on the damp earth where my blood had fallen. Her hands trembled at her sides. Silver droplets clung to her lashes.For once, she had nothing ready to say.Sonia’s breath came in fast little bursts. “We have to go,” she whispered. “We have to go now.”Stephanie nodded quickly. “If someone sees us here…”They both looked at Claire.