Chapter 529
Evaline:
The heat hit us the moment we stepped out of the building.
Not brushed. Not kissed.
Hit.
It wrapped around my skin like an overenthusiastic lover I absolutely did not want, thick and suffocating, clinging to every inch of exposed flesh. I barely made it three steps before I felt sweat gathering at the back of my neck, my shirt sticking uncomfortably to my spine.
Stars above, it was hot.
It was Wednesday – second day of the new term – and yet the Academy felt oddly sluggish, like even the walls were too tired to pretend otherwise. Classes had been… light. Professors usually went easy during the first week or two, an unspoken apology for the absolute torture they inflicted during the final five weeks of every term.
Still, “easy” didn’t mean “optional p>
So there we were. Trapped by schedules, uniforms, and the merciless early-September sun.
I tugged at the collar of my shirt, grimacing. Fall was practically begging to arrive – cool mornings, crisp winds, golden leaves – but after the early morning rain, the sun had decided to rise with a vengeance. No wind. No mercy. Just humidity so thick it felt like breathing through soaked fabric.
And as werewolves?
We were suffering.
“Wow,” Noah drawled beside me, wiping his forehead dramatically. “I never thought I would see the day p>
I glanced at him. “The day what p>
“The day our Class President and Class Keeper both give up on their picture-perfect Academy image p>
Kyros scoffed immediately. “This isn’t giving up. This is survival p>
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.
Noah wasn’t wrong, though.
Both Kyros and I had ditched our uniform blazers entirely. Our ties hung loose around our necks, top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to our elbows. Kyros’ usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, strands clinging to his temple.
As for me?
I’d pulled my shirt out of the waistband of my skirt completely, hoping… foolishly… that it would let some nonexistent air circulate.
“Uniform order can kiss my ass today,” Kyros added flatly.
Mallory groaned. “Can we please talk about how we still have to walk all the way to the dining hall? That’s a full ten minutes walk under the scorching sun p>
Ria let out a distressed sound. “I didn’t even bring my sunscreen. I was supposed to reapply after second period p>
Noah took one step out of the tree shade we were all gathered under and immediately stepped back. “I vote we stay hungry. Hunger is temporary. Heatstroke is forever p>
He wasn’t exaggerating.
We weren’t the only ones suffering either.
All around the building, students lingered desperately in whatever shade they could find – pressed against walls, hiding beneath overhangs, clustered beneath the sparse trees dotting the courtyard. First-years and second-years alike looked equally miserable, their usual excitement dulled by sweat and sun.
Only a handful of brave… or foolish… souls attempted the direct route across the gardens toward the dining hall, and even they looked like they were regretting every step.
I squinted toward the open stretch of sunlit grass. “Yeah… no p>
Mallory followed my gaze and shuddered. “Absolutely not p>
That’s when it hit me.
“There’s a back corridor,” I said suddenly.
Everyone turned to look at me.
Rowan clicked his fingers. “The patrolling corridor p>
“Technically,” I nodded. “It runs behind the east wing and connects straight to the main building. It’s longer, but it’s shaded the entire way p>
Ria’s eyes lit up. “You are an angel p>
Noah clasped his hands together dramatically. “Lead us to salvation, oh wise one p>
We pivoted immediately, abandoning the courtyard without a second thought.
The moment we stepped into the corridor, the temperature dropped just enough to make breathing easier. Stone walls rose on either side, cool and dark, blocking the sun completely. The floor was slightly damp from the morning rain, the scent of moss and old pines lingering in the air.
I let out a sigh of relief. “See? Worth it p>
Noah nodded. “We can have enjoy both the food and AC now p>
Mallory stretched her arms overhead. “I might actually survive now p>
Our footsteps echoed softly as we walked, the corridor winding gently, branching occasionally into smaller paths that led to storage rooms, staff passages, and rarely used gardens.
It was quiet here. Peaceful.
Almost too peaceful.
We were halfway through when Noah slowed, his expression shifting.
“Uh,” he said. “Is it just me… or does that sound wrong p>
I listened.
At first, I heard nothing but our footsteps.
Then p>
Laughter.
Not the light kind. Not the kind that carried joy or warmth.
This laughter was sharp. Cutting. Mean.
I stopped walking.
“So it’s not just me,” Mallory murmured.
The sound drifted from one of the side paths… a narrow archway partially hidden by ivy-covered stone. Beyond it, sunlight filtered through leaves, illuminating what looked like a small, secluded garden.
Kyros frowned. “There’s a garden over here p>
Another laugh echoed. Followed by a shaky, muffled voice.
My stomach tightened.
“Let’s check,” I said, already moving.
The others followed without question.
As we stepped closer, the scene came into view… and my blood went cold.
A group of students stood in a loose semicircle, their backs partially turned to us. There were at least six of them. One leaned casually against a stone bench. Another twirled something metallic between his fingers.
And in the center… stood a single student.
Pinned.
Cornered.
My heart dropped straight into my stomach.
I realized not only what was happening, but even found him familiar.
He was smaller than the others, shoulders hunched inward, arms wrapped around himself like a shield that wasn’t doing much protecting. His uniform was rumpled, blazer missing, hair disheveled like someone had grabbed it earlier.
“Come on,” one of the students said mockingly. “We are just asking a question p>
“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Why so quiet all of a sudden p>
The boy flinched and a familiar memory hit me.
That was all it took.
My vision sharpened, my pulse roaring in my ears.
I knew that face.
I knew that posture.
I knew that fear.
And suddenly, the heat didn’t matter anymore.