Rivere the cat sat calmly near the wall, grooming his paw like nothing had happened. He dragged his tongue across his fur with absolute indifference, as if viciously attacking a witch moments earlier had been nothing more than a routine part of his day.
Well, his day now, since he had been turned into a cat bound to protect Adele.
Micah carried Adele to the infirmary where he helped clean the wolfbane from her wounds. The poison had seeped into her body through the garrote cut, and although she was a healer, it still weakened her.
She was pale and exhausted.
It was no surprise when she eventually fell asleep.
Micah would have stayed beside her, but there was far too much to do. The entire school needed securing.
"Psst," he hissed quietly toward the cat.
Or rather, his brother. Sort of.
God, this was weird.
He tried to get the animalâs attention.
Rivere paused for a moment and looked at him.
Then, with what Micah could only describe as a deeply condescending expression, the cat went right back to licking his paw.
Micah sighed.
"Just look after her, alright? Iâll be back."
Rivere remained silent, acting completely oblivious to the instruction.
Micah recognized the silent protest for what it was and ignored it. He stepped toward the doorway, but stopped just before leaving.
He turned back.
"Thank you," he said.
For the first time, the cat stopped grooming.
Those unblinking, annoyingly beautiful green eyes stared straight at him.
Then Rivere hopped onto the bed beside Adele and curled up next to her, sitting like a quiet guardian watching over her.
That was enough for Micah.
He stepped out of the infirmary, already dialing Samanthaâs number.
The phone barely rang before she answered.
"Is the barrier up?" he asked immediately.
"Reconstructing a ward larger and stronger than the one before is not childâs play, Mr. Raymond," Samantha snapped. "I need preparation, assistance from sister witches, and considering how much werewolves dislike our kind, gathering help is taking time."
Micahâs jaw flexed.
"How much time?"
"We need until midnight," she replied. "Itâs the witching hour. Magic is strongest then."
Micah stopped walking.
"We donât have that much time. Leaving the school unprotected until nightfall isnât ideal, Samantha."
"Well maybe you should have been more careful with the ward in the first place," she shot back. "This isnât beginner magic and I canât rebuild something like that alone."
Micah exhaled slowly, forcing his temper down.
"Fine. Do what you have to do. But be quick. Iâll have the wolves secure the campus and make sure not even the shadow of a zombie gets near the students."
"Now youâre talking."
The line went dead.
Micah headed straight for the ballroom.
Professor Alwen immediately brightened when he saw him.
"Have you found Adele?"
"Yes," Micah answered. "Sheâs safe. Thank you for your help."
Then he stepped into the hall.
One of the teachers was currently guiding the human students through breathing exercises meant to calm them. The wolves, meanwhile, looked bored out of their minds.
Micah spotted Commander Malakai near the back.
"Rally the students," Micah said quietly. "The wolves. The ones in top condition."
Malakai raised a brow.
"The ward wonât be restored until midnight," Micah continued. "Which means we need all hands on deck securing the perimeter. Nothing gets inside this school."
Something in Micahâs expression made Malakai take the order seriously.
He nodded.
Then he stepped forward and clapped his hands loudly.
"Alright boys!" he barked. "If youâre a wolf, on your feet. Weâve got zombies to hunt. Humans stay put."
The response was immediate. A thunder of cheers erupted as the werewolves leapt to their feet.
At last. Something worth doing. Far better than sitting around like helpless prey waiting for danger to come to them.
Coach Harrington and Malakai worked hand in hand, as they often did. It was no surprise to see them moving in tandem now, delegating tasks with efficiency.
They moved through the gathered wolves, selecting who would take which position around the school grounds. Some were assigned to patrol the perimeter. Others were placed at strategic points near the entrances and corridors. While the strongest and most reliable wolves were chosen to guard the main.
No one wanted to take chances.
In the end, the weapon room had to be opened.
The heavy metal door groaned as it swung open, revealing racks of old weapons that had not been touched in years. Most of them were coated in a thin layer of rust and dust from long neglect. No one had ever imagined the room would need to be opened again.
After all, those weapons had been used during the years when discrimination against wolves had run high, when the young werewolves of Lunaris Academy had needed ways to defend themselves against hostile humans and hunters.
Those days had long passed.
Now the room buzzed with activity as the wolves set to work. Some wiped rust from blades, others tested the balance of spears and batons, while a few assembled crossbows that had been dismantled and stored away.
While the others prepared, Micah returned to the infirmary to check on Adele.
She was awake when he entered.
Rivere left immediately.
"Hey," Micah said softly as he approached the bed. "How are you feeling?"
He sat beside her and gently inspected her neck where the wolfbane garrote had cut into her skin. Most of the angry redness had faded, leaving behind faint pink marks.
"Better," Adele answered.
Micahâs expression tightened.
"Listen, Adele...Iâm sorry."
"Itâs not your fault, Micah," she interrupted gently. "Itâs not like you knew she was going to come after me."
"Thatâs exactly the problem," Micah said grimly. "I knew one of them would come back for the girl. I just didnât think theyâd come after you. I was careless."
"Well," Adele said with a small shrug, "now I know her face. Itâs not like she can catch me off guard again."
"There wonât be a next time."
But Adele shook her head.
"You have her sister," she reminded him. "There will always be a next time."
Micahâs jaw tightened.
"Not if I hide you somewhere she canât reach you," he said. "Then the fight will be between her and me alone."
Adeleâs face fell instantly.
"Are you serious right now?" she said sharply. "You know what happened the last time I was trapped in hell and you want to send me back there?"
"Technically, Rivere was the one holding you hostage then," Micah muttered. "That wouldnât be the case this time. Youâd be a guest. And Rivere would be there to protectâ"
"Iâm not going back there," Adele said firmly, her features hardening. "End of discussion."
Silence settled between them.
Then Micahâs phone rang.
At first he considered ignoring it, but the thought crossed his mind that it might be Samantha calling about the ward.
So he pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. His face fell.
"Well," he muttered darkly. "Speak of the devil."
It was his uncle.
Elijah.