I finally came out free, relieved. But for some reason, the hallway felt stuffed, heavy.
I walked aimlessly, my heart weighed down by a feeling I didn't recognize, like it wasn't mine to carry.
Then I stopped in my tracks, panting. I heard soft sobs coming from the girls' restroom.
At the entrance, I sighed and reached for the doorknob. I twisted it open and stepped inside.
The restroom was brightly lit, the overhead lights buzzing faintly in the silence. Sunlight spilled in through the small, frosted window high on the wall, casting a pale glow across the tiled floor. Despite the hour, the place felt strangely hollow, like it had been emptied out by grief.
The sinks gleamed with recent use, but the mirror was speckled with water spots and fingerprints. A faint scent of soap and school-issued air freshener clung to the air, failing to mask the sharp undertone of tears.
I took a few hesitant steps forward. A quiet, shuddering sob echoed from one of the stalls at the end.
I stopped in front of it and gently knocked.
"Hey, Clary? You in there?"
"Fuck off, Terra." Her voice cracked beneath the weight of her sobs, muffled by the stall door.
I sighed, leaning in closer. My hand rested gently against the cool metal, my voice soft.
"Look, I know how you feel..."
She cut in sharply, her voice brittle. "How could you possibly know? It's not your sister who went AWOL." A sob caught in her throat. "Why do you even care, anyway?"
I didn't hesitate. "Because you're my friend."
She scoffed, bitter. "So we're friends now?"
"We've always been friends. Come on out."
Silence fell. The only sound was the slow, rhythmic drip of water from the sink. After a long pause, the stall door creaked open.
Clary stepped out. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks damp with tears. She looked small, like the weight of the world had finally settled on her shoulders.
I held her hand, looking into her face for a moment before gently pulling her into a hug.
She stepped into my arms without a word, collapsing against me like she'd been holding everything in for too long. Her body trembled as she clutched me tightly, sobbing bitterly into my shoulder. I held her close, one hand gently rubbing her back, the other softly patting her hair, like it might soothe the pain neither of us could name.
The restroom was silent around us, the kind of silence that made grief feel louder.
After a while, her sobs quieted. She pulled away slowly, her tear-streaked face lifting to meet mine. Her eyes were glassy, lost, searching.
"Annie was here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"That's what was said," I nodded gently, watching her closely.
She sniffed, wiping at her face with the back of her sleeve. "Why?" Her voice cracked on the word, as if she wasn't sure if she was asking me or the universe.
"I don't know," I said softly, watching her wipe her face. "But… considering she had something to do with Charles' death… maybe she came back looking for answers."
Clary's expression twisted, the pain in her eyes flaring into something sharper, anger.
"Why is she like this?" she snapped, her voice cracking. "Resa was my sister too!" Her fists clenched at her sides. "Can't she just get a grip?!"
Her voice echoed off the tiled walls, trembling with fury and heartbreak. I didn't respond, not with words. I just reached out, gently rubbing her back in slow, steady circles, hoping the simple gesture might anchor her. She was unraveling right in front of me.
Then, suddenly, her eyes widened. A spark of realization broke through her tears.
"Resa and Alexa were killed by magic, Raymond's wand." She grabbed my wrist, her grip tight and trembling. "What if we break it? If we destroy the wand, all of his magic will be undone. Resa and Alexa might come back… and maybe, just maybe Annie will stop all of this."
"Yeah, that's a brilliant idea, Clary," I said, the sarcasm thick in my voice as I stepped back slightly, arms folded across my chest. "Let's just smash the one thing holding the worst of all magic in check. No big deal, right?"
She blinked, startled by the sudden edge in my tone.
I took a breath, trying to rein it in, but the weight of what she was suggesting was too heavy to ignore. "Are you forgetting what Raymond said?" I asked, my voice firmer now, more grounded. "If we destroy that wand, everything it sealed away, everything it kept locked up could come flooding back. Nemus could return."
I looked her in the eyes, hoping she understood the gravity of it.
Her face hardened, voice rising with bitterness. "What if that's just something he made up?" she snapped. "Resa and Alexa are dead because of him. Annie ran away because of him. My family is in pieces and he's walking around this school like none of it matters! Like he's innocent!"
"Clary, calm down..."
She let out a ragged cry, her body shaking again as she broke into fresh sobs. Her anger dissolved into despair right in front of me then the door burst open.
"Clary!" Pink's voice rang through the restroom as she rushed forward, shoving past me to get to her. "Are you okay? What happened?"
Clary didn't respond. She curled inward, crying harder as Pink crouched beside her, wrapping her arms around her protectively. She turned her head sharply toward me, her eyes burning with accusation.
"What did you do?"
I just stood there. The words caught in my throat. My arms hung by my sides, still heavy with Clary's grief.
Eska met my gaze with a quiet nod. I didn't say anything as I turned and walked out, leaving the sound of Clary's cries echoing behind me like a wound that wouldn't close.
I stepped out of the restroom, my chest still tight from the emotional storm I'd just weathered. The air outside felt different, cooler, heavier, like the building itself was exhaling after holding its breath.
The hallway buzzed with murmurs and uneasy laughter. Whispers flitted like ghosts around the lockers: some about Charles, others already shifting to the return of basketball season. Caveroop High always had a strange way of moving on, grief and gossip tangled together, like two weeds growing from the same cracked pavement.
Then, without warning, the air shifted. Thicker and heavier like fog pressing into my skin.
For a moment I thought it was just my nerves, the lingering weight of everything that had happened.
But then I saw her, Rejoice.
She stood at the far end of the hallway, framed by the white-blue glow of a flickering light. She wasn't walking she was just… standing there, motionless. Like a statue carved from shadow.
She was panting lightly, barely noticeable unless you looked closely. Her eyes scanned the hallway with quiet ferocity, sharp as broken glass. She wore black shirt and skinny jeans, a long coat, and boots. Subdued.
And for the first time since I'd met her, she looked tired. Not physically, but soul-tired, like she was holding the entire world on her back and it was starting to crack her spine.
Our eyes met, there was no greeting, no smile, no sharp remark just silence.
Then, with a quiet inhale, she turned and walked past me. Her boots tapped steadily against the tile, she was heading to the clinic.
I started to follow her, curious, maybe even concerned but a hand grabbed my arm.
Zack.
He appeared beside me, breathless, like he'd run halfway across campus to find me. His hair was messy, his shirt clung to him from sweat, and worry bled from every inch of him.
"Hey," he said, gripping my shoulders. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, still trying to read the tension in his eyes. "Yeah… but you should check on Clary. She didn't take the announcement well."
His jaw clenched as he processed that. His gaze softened just a little as it settled on me again.
"Stay right here," he said gently. "I'll be back."
Then he turned and hurried down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.
I exhaled slowly and turned toward the locker room, the walls closing in behind me as I walked.
...
The clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee. Papers were scattered like leaves across the counter, a few of them already tucked into a worn leather satchel. The room hummed with quiet tension.
Raymond was arranging his desk when the door burst open.
Rejoice stepped inside.
He looked up, startled for a second but the expression quickly faded into something harder to read.
Rejoice didn't say anything at first. She closed the door quietly behind her, then stepped forward with a stillness that felt too calm to be natural.
"I heard what happened," she said, her voice low and steady. "Are you okay?"
Raymond gave a short, bitter laugh. "At least I'm not being accused of murder this time."
Rejoice winced at the sting in his tone. "Ray…" she hesitated, correcting herself, "Mr. Ray, are you really okay?"
He didn't answer right away. He leaned back against the desk, folding his arms tightly across his chest as if holding himself together.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally. "The last thing I need is more eyes on me."
She tilted her head, almost amused by the suggestion. "Is it really that suspicious to care whether my teacher's alive or falling apart?"
He gave her a long look. It wasn't angry, It wasn't grateful either It was just… tired.
Then he turned his face away. Rejoice's patience snapped like a twig.
"Then answer the goddamn question!" she shouted.
"I said I'm fine!" he yelled back, his voice echoing against the sterile walls. He clenched his jaw and turned away again, face carved from stone. "Now leave."
The tension in the room buzzed like static.
She stood there, silent, then scoffed sharply, spun on her heel, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her with a crash that rattled the blinds.
In the locker room, the overhead light flickered as I opened my locker and reached for my bag. My arms felt heavier than usual, like all the emotions of the day had settled into my bones.
I turned and there was Jesse.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his usual easygoing smirk curling at the edges of his mouth.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi." I slung the strap over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "You seem… happy."
"Didn't you hear the announcement?" he asked as we started walking.
I nodded. "Basketball's back."
"Well," he said, flashing a grin, "after all the insanity, this is the first good news I've had in a while."
"Good for you," I said softly. "You're back in the game."
"And you?" he asked, glancing sideways at me. "I heard what happened in the cafeteria."
"I'm not apologizing," I replied flatly.
He laughed once. "Wasn't asking you to. Honestly? Pink had it coming."
I looked at him and smiled faintly.
We didn't say anything more as we walked out together into the bright buzzing sunlight.
...
The basketball court was a dim, echoing cavern of stillness. The overhead lights were off, leaving the space cloaked in quiet shadows. Sunlight slanted through the high windows in dusty golden beams, striping the floor like prison bars. The bleachers stood tall and empty, like ancient sentinels, their silence pressing in from all sides.
Jennie paced along the edge of the court, her boots clicking sharply against the hardwood, the sound bouncing off the walls. Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight with unspoken tension.
Sofie sat cross-legged on the second row of bleachers, a faint blue glow illuminating her face as she scrolled through her phone. Beside her was a worn leather-bound notebook, its pages crowded with chaotic scribbles, hand-drawn sigils, printed articles, and taped-in photos. She flipped through it absently, eyes darting between the messy pages and her screen.
Jennie stopped pacing. "Okay. What do you have on the Alpha?"
Sofie didn't look up. "The Alpha is the leader of the pack, obviously."
"I meant who the hell it is, Sofie," Jennie snapped, the frustration bubbling in her voice. "Names, clues, suspects. Give me something."
Sofie blinked, then shrugged. "If I had to put my money on someone… I think the Alpha is none other than Mr. Henzel."
Jennie froze mid-step. "The math teacher?"
"Yup." Sofie nodded, and reached into her backpack, pulling out a folder thick with photos, screenshots, and even a small spiral notebook filled with handwritten notes. "I've been watching him. Tracking his behavior. It sounds insane, but… the signs are all there."
She laid out a few grainy surveillance photos on the bench, Mr. Henzel walking alone in the woods behind the school, exiting a locked utility shed, his eyes faintly glowing in one blurry shot taken at dusk. Next came the timeline: dates and times of unusual incidents that coincided with nights of the full moon.
Jennie stepped closer, eyes scanning the material. "You sure about this?"
"No. But he fits the profile. He's got that weird authority vibe, like people flinch when he walks past." Sofie glanced up, her voice low and serious now. "Reminds me of someone with such features."
Jennie didn't answer. She just reached for one of the photos, tilting it under the moonlight. "Let's say you're right. If Henzel really is the Alpha... why is he hiding it?"
Sofie leaned back. "i dunno, it could cause him his job?"
Jennie narrowed her eyes at the photo. "Doesn't sounds like a problem to me" she smiled widely, the kind that was up for mischief "good thing I know where he lives."
...
Back in the hostel room, I lay on my bed with my laptop balanced on my stomach, aimlessly scrolling and munching on a cookie. The faint glow of the screen reflected off the ceiling, casting dancing shadows.
The door creaked open.
Pink stepped in.
She looked like someone who'd been through a hurricane, her hair tangled, her shoulders slumped, her eyes glassy. She didn't speak, didn't even look at me just dropped her bag and collapsed onto her bed.
Silence stretched between us, brittle and uncomfortable until I finally spoke.
"Hey. How's Clary?"
She turned slowly, her eyes meeting mine.
They were icy, cold. Laced with something deeper than anger, hatred.
"Why do you care?" she said flatly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm just… worried," I replied. "Are you okay?"
She hissed, got up abruptly, and walked into the bathroom without answering. The door clicked shut behind her like a final word.
I sighed and turned back to my screen.
Later that night, rain slicked the sidewalks of Caveroop, turning the streets into black mirrors. Jennie and Sofie moved like shadows, cloaked in dark hoodies, their footsteps soft against the wet ground as they approached a modest two-story house, its siding painted an odd shade of ash and grey, like a bruise caught between fading and fresh.
The lights were off, the curtains drawn.
"Are you sure he's home?" Sofie whispered.
"He's always home" Jennie murmured, "That bastard's got no social life outside school. Else he's out recruiting new pack members."
Sofie pulled her hood tighter. "if you say so."
They crept around the side of the house, staying low beneath the hedges. A basement window sat slightly ajar just as Jennie had predicted.
Inside, the house was silent, the kind of silence that presses against your eardrums and makes your breath feel too loud.
The basement was filled with books, wooden crates, and strange metal instruments lined up on the walls, some medical, some definitely not. Candles burned low on a distant shelf. A heavy, musky scent hung in the air: like damp fur, blood, and something bitter.
"I don't like this," Sofie muttered, adjusting the strap of her satchel.
Jennie pulled a silver dagger from her jacket. "This is our only chance Sofie, a surprise attack."
They moved carefully up the stairs, peeking through the crack of the door at the top. The hallway beyond was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting warped shadows on the walls.
"I'll check the study," Jennie said. "You cover the kitchen."
Sofie nodded.
Jennie stepped through the hallway like a trained predator. The door to the study creaked as she pushed it open.
Stacks of books were everywhere, scrolls, old parchment, a framed photo of Mr. Henzel, young, maybe twenty with two figures behind him that blurred to the background.
She kept analysing the picture untill a floorboard creaked behind her. Jennie spun, dagger raised ready to attack whomever was there but it was Sofie.
"He's not in the kitchen," she whispered. "Or the living room."
Jennie sighed " then where could he be"
Soon after, a figure emerged from the shadows, tall, broad-shouldered, and well-built. It was Mr. Henzel. Shirtless, sweat glistened on his skin as if he'd just finished a grueling workout. He stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, eyes locked onto the girls with cold intensity.
"You know," he said, his voice low and steady, "it's a criminal offense to break into someone's home." He didn't blink. "Why are you here? Got a death wish?"
Jennie smirked, sliding her phone back into her pocket. "I could ask you the same. After all, your reign ends tonight. I'll be the new Alpha."
He laughed, a deep, guttural sound that echoed through the quiet neighborhood like a warning bell. "Go home, Jennie," he said, turning away. "I don't have time for childish games."
"I'll show you childish," she growled, her eyes flashing.
In a blur of movement, Jennie lunged. Her fangs lengthened mid-air, claws slicing toward him. She slashed at his side, drawing blood. Shreds of torn flesh clung to her fingers, but she kept attacking, scratching, clawing like a feral animal refusing to back down.
Sofie moved in behind him, brandishing the silver dagger she'd hidden in her boot. She slashed at his back, catching skin, he roared, spinning around, his fists swinging. The force of his punch sent Sofie crashing into a wall.
"Stay down!" he commanded, his voice laced with raw power.
The command hit them like a wave, it was paralyzing, suffocating but Jennie resisted. Her desperation flared like fire in her veins. She rose with a snarl, blood dripping from her claws.
"Not this time."
They clashed again, Jennie clawing wildly, Sofie circling with the dagger, cutting when she could. Mr. Henzel was holding back at first, swatting them away like gnats. But the longer it went on, the more his control slipped.
Then he snapped.
His eyes flared an unnatural amber-red. His canines extended, it looked more vampiric and gleaming but his claws were unmistakably lupine. Veins surged black across his bare chest, pulsing with rage. His ears tapered into points, and his voice distorted, both deep and gravelly, yet eerily smooth.
Jennie stumbled back, breath caught in her throat. "You're... what the hell are you?"
He didn't answer only growled, low and thunderous, before launching at them.
Furniture shattered, walls cracked. The entire house seemed to groan under the weight of the chaos. He chased them from room to room, faster than either of them expected.
"We need to get out of here!" Sofie screamed, diving over a broken table. "He's gonna kill us!"
Jennie skidded to a stop near the staircase, blood streaking her cheek. "What the heck is that?"
Mr. Henzel was done playing, with a roar that rattled the windows and made the floorboards tremble, he lunged again, faster, stronger and no longer human. His claws slashed through the air like blades and his breath steamed with fury.
Jennie barely ducked in time, rolling under a collapsing bookshelf. Sofie cried out as a chunk of wall exploded beside her, spraying debris across the room.
"We need to trap him!" Sofie shouted, dodging behind the kitchen counter, her silver dagger slick with blood.
Jennie kicked over a chair and flung open the back door. Rain was pouring now, thundering against the roof, drenching the backyard. "Lure him in here!" she yelled.
Sofie threw a lamp to get his attention. It shattered near his feet, and with a snarl, he turned. Jennie waited until he stepped past the threshold, then grabbed the emergency sigil from her coat pocket, a charm she used only to use in extreme cases.
She slammed it against the doorframe.
A sudden flash of light burst from the sigil, and a wall of invisible force sealed the doorway behind him. Mr. Henzel howled in rage, clawing at the barrier, but the enchantment held... for now.
"Run!" Jennie barked, grabbing Sofie's wrist.
They tore through the yard, boots slipping in the mud, vaulting the fence and vanishing into the treeline. Thunder cracked above them as they raced deeper into the woods, heartbeats pounding like war drums.
Eventually, they collapsed in a clearing, rain soaking their clothes and hair, mud smearing their faces.
"Fuck!" Jennie cursed, dropping onto the wet grass, panting hard. "He's not the Alpha. What do I do now?"
Sofie was quiet, struggling to catch her breath. Her chest heaved and her hands trembling.
Jennie turned to her, eyes wild. "What the hell was he?"
Sofie swallowed. "From his transformation… he's a hybrid. Vampire and wolf, a rare combination. We're lucky to be alive."
Jennie's face twisted in frustration. "If he's not the Alpha, then who?" She slammed her fist into the soggy ground, mud splashing across her knuckles.
Then, a voice cut through the rain, smooth and gentle but laced with quiet authority.
"I know."
They froze, both girls whipped around, instincts flaring.
From behind a gnarled oak, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Tall and Imposing. She wore a long midnight-black cloak that dragged across the muddy ground. A sleek mask covered her from nose to chin, and her hood concealed everything else. The only thing visible were her eyes, they were grey, glinting, and unreadable.
Jennie rose slowly, her shoulders were tense. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure tilted her head, her voice came in calm, cold, and unreadable. "Does it matter?"
She stepped forward, just enough to let the moonlight kiss her face. Her eyes glittered like black fire.
"The point is… I know who the Alpha is, and I'm willing to make a trade."
Jennie narrowed her eyes, the rain streaking down her brow. "What do you want?"