The Academy buzzed that morning like a nest kicked open.
Everywhere I turned, someone was whispering about Maren and Darian—the human girl and the Beta who'd dared to fall in love.
I had wandered in late, dressed in a black curious gown. Silently I was mourning Maren. Human. Wolf lover who had defiled wolf lore. Now a pile of ashes. And then there was Darian Raincloud, cursed to wander forever kinless. Packless. Banished.
God. I thought of Jordan Files. Of the pathetic mess called us. Of the trembling in my chest even as I tried to stay deaf to the whispers. Of the stupid idiotic love that would definitely get us killed one day. We had played it safe and secret this far, how much longer would we hold it together.
I had only three more months before the semester ended and then what ?
I would be back to The Black Colony and pretend I never loved a werewolf.
Pretend I never fucked a werewolf.
Pretend I never did all of the things Maren and Darian did. And more. What was the essence of loving this fiercely if it had an expiry date. If it came like a gift we should not publicly unwrap.
I could have loved a vampire.
I could have loved a human.
I loved a werewolf instead, the one thing a human girl should not be crazed about. Maren had paid the ultimate price. What did this mean for Jordan and I.
By the time I made it to the cafeteria, Peach and Cassidy were already there, faces lit like someone had set the gossip gods free. Already I felt my appetite dwindling even as I carried the tray of rice pudding to the table.
Peach flipped her hair, pink streaks gleaming in the sunlight. "You won't believe what I just heard, Night."
I roll my eyes "Come off it, Peach. Maren and Darian's news is practically the bread and butter of the tabloids this morning".
Cassidy scowled "For once, you are updated and that is a major breakthrough. We should pop a bottle of champagne for this ."
I laugh mirthlessly "It's a bit of a black morning for popping champagnes."
Peach idly turned on her phone, scrolling with a broad grin "Jeez. They didn't just burn her—they broadcasted it on the Council's feed." I watch her nose turn spitefully "Well for once, I'm loving this world. How would I breathe without the scandals."
Cassidy gasped a little bit theatrically, biting into an apple like she was auditioning for drama club. "No way. That's barbaric. But also… who does that for love in this economy?"
"Apparently Maren did," Peach said, smirking. "And now she's literal ashes. Darian's wandering the Shadow Woods—no pack, no moon, no nothing."
A few students at the next table murmured the same story, each version worse than the last. One claimed Darian howled her name till his voice broke.
Spoonfuls of rice made their way into my mouth, tasteless in the chills threatening to engulf me. God..
Cassidy shuddered. "Ugh. Gives me chills. Imagine loving someone enough to get cursed. Couldn't be me."
I forced a small laugh, though my throat felt tight. "Yeah, couldn't be."
Peach leaned forward, eyes glinting. "You think she knew? That he was a wolf, I mean?"
"She had to," Cassidy replied. "We humans always know. We just pretend not to because it makes the danger sexier. Dont tell me you didn't know Harmon was a vamp the first time you saw him."
Peach smiled.. Like this was funny ... "There's no danger attached with loving a Vampire. If Darian had been a cold fanged corpse , Maren would still be in one piece today. Too bad she fell for a wolf ."
Vira Norman _ deputy editor of the student magazine, uninvited and forever nosy snorted from the next table. "Please. Humans and wolves together is unnatural. That's why she burned. Should've thought with her head, not her hormones."
Peach rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, Vira. You talk like you wouldn't pounce on a wolf if one wagged his tail at you."
The cafeteria went silent for a beat. Then Vira's lips curled. "At least I have standards. I don't fall for beasts."
The words landed like claws on my skin. My fork paused midair. For a heartbeat, I imagined jamming it through her perfect, painted throat.
Cassidy nudged me gently under the table. "Don't," she whispered.
I unclenched my jaw. "Wasn't planning to," I lied.
Then something sliced through the tension. Not sound. A presence.
Moon Sol.
Even on a gossip drenched morning like this, their entrance was enough to take the talks of Darian and Maren off for a couple of minutes. Lips stayed hushed. Eyes stayed pinned on the doorway. Phone cameras clicked and flickered.
The music gods walked with all the bouncy pride of kings. First, Michael Shawn. Then Dammy Brentwood. And lastly, like an afterthought, Derrick Vale. The Devil's Eyre.
Something burned in my throat. Vira Norman had lost interest in us and was especially following the trio even as they headed to the counter to grab their trays . The fandom associated with the singers was next level crazy but Jordan's own was even crazier. .
My eyes flickered a bit, landed on the doorway and there he was, perched with all his characteristic nonchalance.
Conversations shriveled mid sentence. Half a dozen pair of eyes abandoned Moon Sol and stayed glued to Jordan Files, his ice cold eyes could be seen basking in the adoration.
I hissed, for a moment forgetting my heart leaping in cartwheels. For a moment forgetting Maren , cut off in her prime for feeling the same way I was feeling. Furla was history. Maren was trending news and I could be the next if I didn't curtail the idiotic way my idiotic heart was leading me to my death . .
As usual, Jordan's pride irked me wordlessly and I jammed my fork into my rice with blazing vengeance.
As a solo artist under Bloodstone Records, Jordan Files was slowly topping charts. He currently had a hot fan base that called themselves Jordanites and which were on perpetual enmity with Moon Sol's Soleins.
I watched him swagger to the counter. I watched something else too. Derick Vale's hands clasping and unclasping in a small but unveiled show of wrath.
Derrick's hands clenched and unclenched again, slow, deliberate, like he was holding the air together before it shattered. My chest raced. I remembered the scene at Don Puerto. The warning at the restaurant. God. How much did he know. How far would he go to eliminate Jordan.
Peach stayed glued to Jordan. She let out a low whistle. "God, look at him. He doesn't even try to hide the ego. It's... sexy."
Jordan had that effect on people, on rooms, on entire atmospheres. He didn't just walk. He claimed space.
Cassidy smirked. "Sexy's one word. Suicidal's another."
"Suicidal?" Peach blinked.
Cassidy bit her apple again, eyes narrowed. "Walking into the cafeteria the morning after a Council purification, looking like that? Either he's fearless or he's stupid."
I could've said both. I could've said he's mine, too—but that would've been the end of me.
Jordan turned from the counter. His gaze flicked over the crowd with practiced indifference. And then—just for a heartbeat—it stopped.
On me.
The entire room dimmed around that second. I swear it did. His expression didn't change; his mouth didn't move. But his eyes—God, those eyes—caught mine and held. Cold blue, frozen over and steady as a blade.
Something in me trembled. Not with fear. Not even with guilt. It was that old, stupid ache that kept finding its way back to him, even when the world told me to run.
Cassidy followed my gaze, her lips curving in quiet mischief. "Oh no," she murmured. "Please don't tell me you're looking at him again."
Peach gasped dramatically. "Night. Tell me you're not crushing on Files. That would be literal suicide"
"Please," I scoffed, forcing my eyes back to my pudding. " Pfff. I'm human, remember? Hello, taboo."
"And if you weren't?" Cassidy said, sipping her juice. "He sure looks hot, dangerous, and impossible to forget afterward."
They laughed. I didn't.
"His arrogance always finds a way to irk me" My voice stays flat "Even if I wasn't human, Jordan Files would be a big no no. "
But he was still looking.
Still holding my gaze from across the room.
And I could feel it—the pull of that forbidden tether stretching invisible and strong between us.
Then, as if remembering himself, he turned back toward his table, shoulder brushing Derrick's in a small, private collision. Derrick said something sharp under his breath, and Jordan's jaw ticked, the smallest flash of irritation before he masked it again.
The tension between them was thick enough to taste.
Peach, oblivious, started chattering once more about the tragic heart wrenching news of Maren and Darian Raincloud. I half-listened, half-bled inside.
Because even from across the cafeteria, I could feel Jordan's scent crawling back into my head—silver, smoke, and something heartbreakingly wild.
And for a moment, all I could think about was Maren Fenwick.
And how fast love can turn to ashes.