Chapter 12
Avilyna
FLEETING REASSURANCES
Closing the heavy door behind Nalaka, I allow myself a moment of silence, leaning against the cool wood as I take a slow, steady breath.
The weight of everything that’s happened presses down on me.
Each exhale is an attempt, however fleeting, to release the tension building inside.
I collapse onto the floor, my eyes fluttering shut, my mind fighting to keep the panic attack at bay. I could kill for a blunt right now.
A frustrated growl escapes me, only to be interrupted by the sudden hiccups I can’t control.
I’m so done with trying to make sense of all of this.
Everything feels so familiar, like echoes of something I should already know.
The problem is, I know it’s all tied to the demons buried deep in my mind.
Those shadows that stay dormant until the darkness of the night stirs them awake.
But right now?
I need them to wake up, I need them to come alive.
I have to remember.
Some fragments are so vivid it feels like they’ve been etched into my brain, seared by fire. The image of my brother’s lifeless form, taken by the servants of Nekros, is burned into my mind, painfully sharp and unrelenting. I can still see the boy I’m trying to save, but then a sharp pain.
Something grips me, stops me cold, a blinding light cuts through my head. The pain was dizzying but passed so quickly. I finally push myself off the floor, wiping at my tears, and I notice blood on my palm.
A nosebleed, great.
I sniff hard, steadying myself, and step deeper into the room.
The furniture is heavy, rich mahogany or walnut, maybe both.
Honestly, I wouldn’t know the difference if my life depended on it.
The bed dominates the space, draped in luxurious black silk.
An imposing armoire stands to the left, a sturdy desk to the right.
Then I notice that everything is mirrored, doubled.
“Fantastic. I share my room,” I mutter dryly.
But the other bed?
No sheets on, maybe I’m lucky and don’t have a roommate…
Or perhaps someone just finally did their laundry.
I exhale slowly and move toward the closet.
Relief washes over me when I spot a few pieces of clothing hanging neatly inside.
I am in deep need of a hot shower. Analyzing the inside, it’s similar to what other students were wearing, and some of the gear, too.
Nalaka did say each department has its own uniform.
And then I see it, tucked away in the corner, a small arsenal.
Knives of every shape and size, arranged like a deadly exhibit.
Intriguing.
I reach for one and slide it into my boot without second-guessing it. Then my key, and I step out without looking back.
The frigid air bites at my cheeks, sharp and unapologetic.
It feels like winter has already made its claim on the land.
With mountains towering around me, the cold cuts deeper.
Each gust laced with the raw edge of the peaks.
And yet… There’s something breathtaking about it. The beauty of nature, unfiltered.
Untamed.
At least the view’s worth it, even if everything surrounding it is dangerous and deadly. The scene carves itself into me, settling beneath the surface. Even after the cold fades, the feeling stays, haunting.
I head in the opposite direction from where I first came in, letting the path pull me deeper into the Institute’s grounds.
The place is massive, sprawling like some elite university campus, only this one trains people to fight wars instead of writing essays.
The towering buildings rise around a wide, open yard that feels more like a statement, to be impressive, intimidating and very on-brand for high academics.
I steer toward the trees, because let’s be honest, that’s where you’ll always find the gardeners.
Every world has them; you just need to know where to look.
The wind shifts, and I’m immediately proven right.
A familiar scent drifts toward me, curling through the air and tugging a small, triumphant smile to the corners of my lips.
In the shadows, I spot the faint orange glow of a burning blunt, just enough to outline a long, lean figure, cowboy hat and all.
“Hi,” I say, stepping closer, voice casual but hopeful. “Think I could maybe get a hit of that?”
“Sure... But you probably shouldn’t stay out too long,” the stranger replies, his voice low, smooth, with just enough allure to make me pay attention. He steps out of the shadows, and the details come into focus.
Dark, wild hair spilling from under a worn black hat, one silver crescent moon earring catching the light.
Ink winds along his arms, visible beneath the rolled sleeves of a weathered leather jacket.
One tattoo stands out: a wolf howling between tall trees.
Looks like canine inks are a trend around here.
He lifts the joint to his lips and takes a slow, deep drag, calm, unbothered, as if the night belongs to him.
“The full moon’s on the rise,” he adds, exhaling smoke directly into my face as he steps in closer.
Charming.
“So? What, you’re all werewolves or something?” I shoot back.
“Or something,” he replies, a half-smile playing on his lips. His hazel eyes catch the light, glinting with quiet amusement. And I could swear I saw a glow.
“But around here, we say lycans.”
He passes me the solace to my torment, and the moment the burnt herbs touch my lips, a wave of calm rolls over me. Muting the buzzing in my head until it’s nothing more than background noise.
For a heartbeat, I feel weightless, drifting on a cloud of almost-truths and fleeting reassurances. Letting myself believe, just for now, that maybe everything really will be okay.
“But yeah, you shouldn’t be outside on a full moon, especially when you’re fresh blood.” At those last words, his eyes flare up; this time, the truth lingers.
I choke, coughing as the air gets caught in my throat, message received. Scrambling to catch air, I pass the blunt back to him, my movements a little slower than intended. “So you were serious?”
"Serious as a heart attack, darling," he replies, voice smooth with a flicker of mischief. "And trust me, around here, that’s saying something. Welcome to the wonderful world of Elgar." His wink adds an almost tangible lightness to the air, like I’m supposed to feel reassured.
I chuckle, shaking my head, “And what do I call you?”
"Ah, the age-old question," he quips, eyes twinkling with that same playful energy. "You can call me Wyll, though ‘Master of disaster’ has a nice ring to it. Don’t you think?" Wyll punctuates his words with another wink.
“I’m Avilyna.”
“Oh, I know,” he responds with amusement. “You’re the girl who dared to throw a bucket of dirty water at Kai.” His smile stretches, showcasing his abnormally long canines. “I’m definitely keeping you around, you’re fun.” I can’t help but share his smile as I inhale another drag.
The same sharp canines as Kai.
Lycans.
“So, what happens during the full moon? You all transform and become monsters?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. Wyll’s hazel eyes darken as he takes another pull from the joint, his voice dropping into something lower.
“Some of us are already monsters. The moon’s just an excuse for what’s always there.
But yeah, you could say we all have the potential to become beasts.
On those nights, our wolf instincts, our predator needs.
.. It’s hard not to give in, especially when you smell this good.
” His eyes skim over me, the air around him shifting again, more charged, more deliberate.
In fact, it seems to do the opposite.
It grounds me.
For once, I’m not anticipating the worst. My mind doesn’t have anything to latch onto, no dark thoughts to spiral into despair. I feel oddly safe, unburdened by the usual noise. Wyll’s nostrils flare as he looks me up and down, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Mmm, interesting…” he murmurs, surrounding me in a cloud of smoke. “Stay in your room, keep your door warded. Don’t want any uninvited guests.” His words are cryptic, before he strides past me, heading down a path near the trees that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Why does everyone keep telling me that? You don’t have security here?”
“We do,” he says with a dry smile, not slowing down. “But this is a war academy. Enemies won’t show you mercy, so why should we? Better start getting used to it.” Wyll calls over his shoulder, before disappearing into the shadows without a second glance.
I stand frozen. His words crash over me like winter’s wind. This place is riddled with secrets, and I fear this world has already swallowed me whole.