Chapter 45: Not One The Same Level

Malric

Malric paced through the damp, mist-shrouded forest surrounding the cabin, his boots crunching violently against pine needles and fallen leaves. The party was long over, the music silenced, but his mind remained in a frantic, unyielding frenzy.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t settle. All he could focus on was the phantom scent of wild, blooming jasmine that still burned in his nostrils. During the bash, he and his brothers had scoured every inch of the cabin, searching every dark corridor and hidden alcove for the mystery girl in the purple dress. Everyone had joined the search, except Kaeli, who had inexplicably vanished back to his private quarters in a total stupor.

"I can still smell her scent," Malric growled, his voice tight with desperation as he paused near a wide glade. "She was right here. But the trail runs completely cold from this point. I can’t find her!" Behind him, two massive wolves prowled through the underbrush, their broad paws making subtle thuds against the damp earth.

Vance’s wolf form was a striking, pitch-black beast with a thick coat of dark fur, piercing copper eyes, and long, curved claws. Beside him, Theo was a towering, midnight-silver wolf with dark grey markings running down his spine and along his thick scruff, his broad, canine skull framed by pointed ears and cold, ice-blue eyes that scanned the dark trees. Both of them kept their snouts low to the mud, sniffing frantic circles around the path before snapping their jaws at one another in sheer irritation.

Malric whipped his head around, his eyes flashing angrily at his brothers. "Stop snapping at each other! It’s your fault she slipped away in the first place, Vance! If you hadn’t let Savannah corner me like a blind fool, we’d have her locked in our quarters right now!"

Vance’s black wolf snapped his heavy jaw with a loud, echoey CRACK, letting out a sharp, aggressive bark that practically screamed his annoyance.

"Don’t bark at me!" Malric snarled back, his wolf claws growing long through his boots as his blood boiled. "Neither of you held her either! Theo stood at the top of the stairs staring like a brain-dead pup while she walked right past him!" Theo’s silver wolf lifted his heavy snout, baring long, ivory fangs as a deep, throat-rattling growl vibrated through his chest, his ears flattening back against his head in defense.

Before Malric could hurl another insult at his brothers, the shadowed forest went deathly silent. In less than a fraction of a heartbeat, a dark silhouette materialized out of the fog directly in front of Malric. Before he could even draw a breath to react, a stone-cold hand clamped around his throat like an iron vice.

The sheer force lifted Malric’s broad frame completely off the ground. The creature moved at impossible speed, slamming Malric backward into the trunk of a massive pine tree with a deafening impact that rattled his teeth and knocked the air out of his lungs.

Malric choked, clawing wildly at the pale arm pinning him to the tree.

The pale moonlight filtered through the canopy above, illuminating stark white hair, sharp angular features, and a pair of glowing, blood-red eyes that burned with absolute, ancient fury.

Roiner.

"I warned you," Roiner’s voice carried through the quiet woods, a low, smooth purr that felt more dangerous than a thunderclap. "I explicitly instructed you to keep your hands off Travis. How dare you touch him?"

Malric’s pride flared instantly, masking the cold spike of fear in his gut. His own claws elongated, slicing through the air as he glared back at the hybrid. "Get your filthy hands off me!" Malric snarled, his voice strained against the crushing grip on his windpipe. "I don’t have time for your pathetic threats, Headmaster!"

"I will show you precisely what you have time for," Roiner replied coldly.

A low, furious growl tore through the trees as two massive wolves launched themselves through the air. Vance and Theo leapt from the darkness simultaneously, their muscular hindquarters driving them forward, jaws open wide to protect their brother.

Roiner didn’t even turn his head.

With blinding, fluid grace, the hybrid simply stepped half an inch to the side, letting the two heavy wolves overshoot their target. In a swift, single motion, Roiner reached out, grabbing Vance by the thick scruff of his neck and Theo by his snout, slamming their broad wolf heads together with a sickening crunch before flinging them both thirty feet across the glade. The two giant wolves crashed heavily through the thick underbrush, yelping as they skidded across the muddy earth.

Seeing his brothers tossed aside like toys, Malric’s instincts took over. His bones began to pop and snap violently as he initiated a frantic, mid-fight shift into his wolf form. Dark fur burst along his skin, his jaw elongating into a snout as his spine snapped down into a four-legged stance.

Roiner turned his crimson eyes back onto him. "Foolish child." Before Malric could complete the transformation, Roiner struck. He grabbed Malric’s arm, twisting it back into a brutal, unnatural angle while clamping his other hand over the back of Malric’s neck, slamming him chest-first into the cold dirt.

Malric let out an agonizing, strangled shriek. Being attacked mid-shift was pure torture, his bones were half-marrow, half-calcium, suspended between human and wolf anatomy. Held in such a devastating, compromising position, his body locked up entirely, trapped in an agonizing state of half-transformation that sent waves of blinding pain shooting through his spine.

Roiner leaned down, his cold lips hovering inches from Malric’s twitching wolf ear.

"I will spare your life tonight out of respect for the Crown," Roiner whispered, his voice laced with venomous disgust. "But hear me clearly, my prince. Lay a single finger on Travis’s head again... and it will be the absolute end of you."

Roiner released his grip.

Malric collapsed into the mud with a ragged gasp, his body involuntarily forcing the rest of the shift to complete itself just to heal his cracked bones. He rose as a massive, golden-furred wolf, panting heavily on all four paw-pads beside Vance and Theo, who were struggling back up onto their hind legs, bruised and whimpering.

Roiner stood tall over the three wounded wolves, his dark coat spotless, his crimson eyes gleaming with cold superiority. "Today’s little display will never be repeated," Roiner warned one final time. Without waiting for a response, the hybrid turned on his heel and melted into the shadowed forest, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye.

Silence hung heavy over the glade.

Malric lay in the dirt, his deep wolf chest heaving as the blinding pain slowly subsided into a dull throb. For the first time in his spoiled, royal life, a terrifying truth settled deep inside his soul.

A hybrid... Malric realized, his internal thoughts dark and bitter as he stared at the empty fog. There are levels to power in this world above that of blood... and we aren’t there yet.

Vance’s black wolf limped forward, shaking the mud from his coat before letting out a fierce, aggressive howl. He pawed wildly at the dirt and jerked his head toward the direction Roiner had vanished, barking out loud to demand they give chase.

Malric lifted his heavy wolf head, letting out a sharp, commanding growl that cut Vance off instantly. He shook his snout firmly, flashing his fangs to command his brothers to stand down.

Vance huffed, his copper eyes flaring with anger, but Malric held his ground, glaring at both of his brothers with a deep warning growl until they lowered their snouts in reluctant submission.

We focus on finding our Omega for now, Malric thought, his jaw clenching tightly in wolf form. We will teach Roiner a lesson when the time is right, but right now... that monster is fully capable of killing us all. I understand now why he is the Headmaster.

Aina

Aina opened her eyes, staring blankly up at an unfamiliar ceiling constructed of dark, heavy slate beams. Her mind was a tangled, hazy mess. Her head throbbed with a dull, distant ache, and for a terrifying second, she wondered if she had finally succumbed to her weak lungs in the dark forest.

Is this... am I dead? Aina thought, her eyelids fluttering weakly as she tried to focus. Is this the Moon Goddess’s heaven?

Her body felt heavy and strangely drowsy, but as she took a slow, tentative breath, she noticed something incredible: her chest didn’t hurt. The tight, burning sensation that usually trapped her lungs after running was gone, replaced by a cool, clear flow of air.

Slowly and awkwardly, Aina pushed herself up into a sitting position on the soft mattress.

She looked down at herself and froze. The heavy, stolen purple gown was gone. Instead, she was wearing an oversized, crisp white linen dress shirt that hung loosely off her small shoulders, falling all the way past her thighs. Panic flared in her chest, but she forced herself to breathe. Instinctively, her small hand reached out toward the bedside table, blindly searching the smooth wood. Her fingers brushed against wire and glass.

She grabbed her spectacles, the crude, battered pair she had worn for years, and slid them onto her face.

The blurry, dark world instantly snapped into sharper focus.

She was in a grand, gothic bedroom completely devoid of artificial light. Tall, arched windows lined the far wall, where thick curtains were drawn back just enough to let warm, golden morning sunlight spill across the dark stone floor. The room was lined with old bookshelves, strange brass instruments, and dark tapestries that screamed ancient elegance.

Aina slid her bare legs over the edge of the bed, her feet touching the cool stone floor. She began pacing up and down the length of the rug, her mind racing at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to piece her shattered memories back together.

Okay... the party... the broadcast... I changed into a purple dress... She bit her lip, pacing faster. I ran into the woods... my lungs gave out... and then...

It clicked.

Headmaster Roiner.

She remembered bumping straight into his broad chest, seeing those striking red eyes, and hearing his cool, gentle voice before her vision went completely black.

Heart hammering against her ribs, Aina crept quietly toward the bedroom door. She pulled it open, stepping out into a dimly lit, narrow stone passageway. She followed the soft sound of running water, her bare feet making no sound against the flagstones until she reached the archway of an open kitchen.

Standing near the stone sink was Headmaster Roiner. He had his back turned to her, his long, dark sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he carefully washed his hands under a stream of clear water. A faint, reddish tint swirled down the drain, but Aina was too distracted to pay it any mind.

As she stood frozen in the archway, his scent hit her, a rich, intoxicating blend of crisp mountain air, roasted espresso, and old parchment that made her chest tighten in the most wonderful way possible. Her heart did a sudden, violent flutter, sending a flush of warmth straight up her neck.

Roiner was not wearing his stiff, intimidating Headmaster suit today. Instead, he wore a simple, dark silk shirt unbuttoned slightly at the collar, paired with tailored trousers that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean waist. Framed by the morning sun pouring through the kitchen window, his pale skin and striking dark features looked utterly divine.

Goddess above... Aina thought, her cheeks burning as her inner monologue completely betrayed her. He looks so good... I could literally eat him up right now.

Before she could take a step back, Roiner’s hands stopped under the tap.

Without turning around immediately, a faint, devastatingly handsome smirk touched his pale lips. He turned off the water, wiped his hands on a dark towel, and slowly turned his head to look at her through the sunlit archway.

"Morning," Roiner said softly, his deep, velvety voice washing over her like warm silk. Aina swallowed hard, clutching the oversized sleeves of his shirt tightly around her hands. "Hi... hi there."