Chapter 78: The fight

Lina’s venomous words cut through me like a blade, severing whatever fragile composure I had left. I stumbled backward until my spine slammed into the cold metal of the locker, the sharp edge digging painfully into my back. There was only one reason behind her venomous rage: she was likely an obsessed fangirl of Magnus’s, part of his rabid circle of admirers.

"I am not a whore," I snapped back, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Don’t you dare talk to me like that!"

Lina let out a dark, mocking sneer and closed the distance between us, towering over me.

"Or what? You’ll run and cry to your Alpha?" she hissed, leaning in so close I could feel the heat of her breath against my cheek.

"Or maybe to Dean Nyland, whom you’re also trying to seduce?! Was one high-ranking wolf not enough for a little bitch like you, so you had to latch onto two? But let’s get one thing straight—Magnus isn’t your mate. He had a fated mate once. You’re just a pathetic stand-in he’s using until he gets bored and tosses you into the gutter. And to make sure you have a safety net, you decided to mess with Dean’s head too? You’ve sparked a feud between two major packs all over one cheap whore!"

"That’s a lie!" I shoved her away with both hands, throwing all my weight into it. My heart slammed violently against my ribs as if it were about to fracture into a thousand pieces. "Magnus doesn’t have a fated mate, and I have nothing to do with Dean Nyland!"

"He doesn’t have one now!" Lina laughed, a twisted, triumphant sound. "Her name was Karina Nyland. She died a year ago. They had an officially verified bond, a confirmed true mate connection—and everyone in this academy knew about it."

I froze. The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp, an icy numbness spreading from my chest to the tips of my fingers.

Karina Nyland?

How could I possibly claim I was Magnus’s true mate now?

I couldn’t. I couldn’t expose the mark hidden on my lower wrist—a mark even Annie hadn’t seen. I couldn’t betray Magnus or shatter the secrecy he had begged me to keep.

I slid my hand behind my back, pressing my palm tightly over the mark, feeling the phantom pulse of raw magic vibrating beneath my skin.

"That’s all a lie," I whispered, though my voice sounded hollow, completely drained of conviction.

"Annie," Lina turned toward my friend, her lips curling into a triumphant, predatory grin. "Look up Karina Nyland online. Right now."

"Go to hell, Lina," Annie growled through gritted teeth, but her hands were already reaching into her pocket for her phone.

Her fingers trembled as she typed the name into the search bar. Throwing my sweater back over my head to cover my bare skin, I stepped up beside her and looked over her shoulder at the glowing screen.

My stomach plummeted.

A photo filled the screen. A breathtaking woman with long, cascading raven hair and piercing ice-blue eyes stood wrapped in Magnus’s arms. They were pressed flush against each other, and the way Magnus looked at her—with a raw, unshielded adoration—was a look he had never given me. Just seeing that look shattered whatever resolve I had left into dust.

Above the photo, a bold headline read:

"Fated Mate of the Blackthorne Pack Heir Dies in Tragic Car Accident After Losing Control on Icy Road."

It was too much. The picture, the look in his eyes, the surname—Nyland.

My world cracked and caved in on itself.

I grabbed my bag from the floor, barely registering the word "whore" that Lina spat behind my back once more. In agonizing slow motion, I watched Annie slip her phone back into her pocket. She tilted her head up, and when her eyes met Lina’s, they burned with a terrifying, hellish blaze—a fierce, destructive fury born of a loyal packmate ready to tear someone apart.

"You treacherous, spiteful bitch..."

Before I could even process what was happening, Annie lunged. She grabbed Lina by her hair with both hands, yanking her down with such terrifying force that Lina folded in half, and drove her knee squarely into her face.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Dull, sickening thuds echoed through the silent locker room. Annie thrashed her around like a ragdoll.

"Annie!" Snapping out of my shock, I threw myself forward, grabbing my friend by the shoulders and pulling back with all my strength. "Stop! That’s enough!"

But Annie was fueled by an unnatural, feral rage. With a flick of her arm, she shoved me back so hard I tumbled onto the tiled floor, my shoulder slamming against the wooden bench.

"What right do you have to insult people?!" Annie screamed, her voice cracking into a manic, deafening shriek. "You are nothing to Jane! And you’re nothing to him either! Mind your own fucking business! Keep your filthy mouth off things you know nothing about! It’s not your place! If you ever open your fucking trap again, I swear to Goddess I’ll tear you apart! Do you hear me?!"

Scrambling up from the floor, I threw my arms around Annie’s shoulders, locking my fingers into her sweatshirt and straining every muscle to drag her back. She thrashed against my grip, snarling like a cornered wolf.

Lina was already scrambling backward on all fours toward the wall, leaving a trail of crimson drops across the light-colored tile.

Her face was a ruined mess. Blood poured from her broken nose, running down her chin and dripping onto the floor. Her lip was split wide open, and her eye was rapidly swelling into a dark purple bruise.

A wave of horror washed over me as Lina leaned heavily against the wall to push herself up, smearing a bloody handprint onto the white paint. Girls from our class came pouring into the locker room, surrounding her in utter shock. They stared at Annie with wide, terrified eyes, whispering under their breath that she was a psychopath. That she belonged in a cage.

One of them, a thin blonde girl, bolted out the door—undoubtedly running to fetch a professor, the security team, or the principal.