The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 102: Wildfire and Ruin

Chapter 102: Chapter 102: Wildfire and Ruin

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The academy grounds were alive with the distant echoes of students weaving through the cobbled paths, laughter and chatter bouncing off the high stone walls, the morning incident already forgotten. But the instant Astrid Voss appeared, everything froze.

Like wolves sensing a storm, every head turned.

Every voice died.

She didn’t need to speak.

The sheer force of her presence was command enough.

She walked with a storm in her stride, each heel clicking like the countdown of a war drum. Her black coat flared behind her, as if the wind bent only for her. Students bowed their heads instinctively, stepping aside as though their bodies moved before their minds could catch up.

Astrid spared none of them a glance.

Her eyes were fixed on the looming structure ahead, the Administrative Tower.

She entered the front hall without hesitation. Her pace didn’t slow.

At the end of the corridor stood two wide doors, one leading to her own office, and the other, freshly installed, polished and unfamiliar, read:

Director Magnus Thorn

She stopped.

Tilted her head slightly.

Then struck.

Her leg snapped upward in a brutal arc, the stiletto tip of her boot connecting dead center with the wooden door. There was a crack, then a thunderous crash as the door exploded off its hinges, flung inward like a toy, crashing to the marble floor with a deep thud that echoed through the tower.

Inside, Magnus Thorn sat at his desk, pen paused mid-signature, brows furrowed.

He blinked.

"Astr..."

He didn’t finish.

Because she was already there.

A blur of movement, claws out, arm raised, her hand aiming straight for his throat.

Magnus jerked back instinctively, caught her wrist in a flash of Lycan reflex, and with a deep snarl, hurled her across the room.

Astrid slammed into a bookshelf with enough force to shatter the entire top half. Books rained down, the wooden planks splintering under the impact.

But she didn’t fall.

She landed, on one knee, one palm braced against the floor, her eyes locked on him, burning red.

"You’re as arrogant as ever," she growled.

"And you’re still unhinged," Magnus snapped, his voice low, guttural.

They launched at the same time.

She struck first, a blur of speed and precision, claws flashing like silver blades in the filtered light. She ducked low, sweeping a leg at his knees, forcing him to stumble back. Her palm hit his chest with enough force to dent steel, sending him crashing against the metal filing cabinet, which crumpled like paper under his weight.

Magnus retaliated.

He twisted mid-fall, grabbed the edge of a broken chair, and hurled it like a spear. Astrid dodged by a hair’s breadth, it splintered against the wall behind her. He came at her next with a series of brutal punches, each blow shoving the air aside like cannon fire.

She blocked one.

Evaded the next.

But the third caught her ribs, and she went crashing into the tall standing lamp, sending it clattering in twisted metal coils.

Glass shattered.

Books flew.

A painting, an ancient portrait of the Academy’s first students, was ripped off the wall when Magnus used Astrid’s own momentum to slam her back against it.

She twisted free, kicked him hard in the side, and sent him skidding across the marble floor, right into a towering cabinet.

It exploded in a crash of wood and scrolls.

Still, he rose, blood at the corner of his mouth now, eyes burning.

They circled.

Breathing heavy.

Muscles tense.

The air between them crackled with fury and tension, raw and unresolved.

Astrid lunged.

But this time, Magnus caught her mid-air, his massive arms locking around her. He twisted, using her own speed against her, and slammed her against the stone wall with a growl that shook the very foundation.

Before she could claw him again, he grabbed both her wrists, pinned them above her head, and pressed in, his body caging hers completely.

She snarled, bared her teeth. Her legs kicked. Her shoulders twisted.

But he was stronger.

"Let me go you bloody fool" she spat, breathless, her chest heaving against his.

Magnus leaned closer, his voice low and rough, but no less dangerous.

"You’re trespassing."

She lifted her chin. "Trespassing? This is my territory, yet you came here and began to act like you are the boss"

"I earned it my position here" he growled. "Maybe you’re just bitter you’re not in complete control anymore."

A muscle ticked in her jaw.

"You really think I came here because I was power hungry? I already had enough power as the right hand man of the Alpha King" he stated

"No, I think you came here because you can’t stand seeing me soar and in control" Astrid said

"No matter what power you wield Astrid, it does not faze me because I will always be above you" he stated, his mouth was dangerously close to hers now.

Astrid’s eyes flashed, defiant.

"You’re not above me," she hissed. "No one is above me."

Astrid stared straight into Magnus eyes

Then...

Magnus moved.

He kissed her.

Fierce. Violent. Full of heat and hatred and unsaid things.

Astrid gasped against his mouth, stunned.... then she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in harder, returning the kiss with equal fury, her body igniting against his.

The fight hadn’t ended.

It had simply changed form.

The kiss deepened, raw, rough, and hungry.

There was nothing soft about it. Nothing tentative. It was a battle, a storm of lips and teeth and tongues where neither of them yielded easily. They kissed like enemies, like lovers, like two beings who had been denying themselves for far too long.

Magnus’s hand was everywhere, rough against her waist, gliding down her back, fingers gripping her bum possessively as though he wanted to feel every inch of her beneath his palms. Astrid clawed into his long brown hair, yanking his head back just to kiss him harder, to dominate the next breath he tried to take.

He hoisted her effortlessly, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and without breaking contact, they crashed into the table, the one piece of furniture that had somehow survived the violence of their fight.

Now it became the center of a new war.

Magnus sat her on the edge, his hands gripping her thighs like she she might disappear. Astrid didn’t hesitate, she reached for his shirt, ripping it open with one sharp tug, buttons flying, revealing the solid chest beneath, already glistening with sweat from their earlier clash.

He growled, deep and low, and his hand shot up to her throat, holding, commanding, his thumb brushing her pulse as he kissed her again. His other hand slid over the curve of her breast, caressing, the fabric between them suddenly too much, too hot, too constraining.

Astrid gasped against his mouth, his grip choking, the sensation sharp and electrifying.

Then she pushed him, hard, sending him flat on his back across the table with a Lycan’s strength. Papers scattered, a pen clattered to the floor.

Before he could recover, she was on top of him.

Straddling his hips. Smirking. Triumphant.

Her fingers dragged down his chest, her tongue following. She bent low, lips wrapping around his nipple, biting just hard enough to make his breath hitch.

He moaned, low and guttural, her name spilling from his lips like a secret no one was supposed to hear.

"Astrid..."

The sound only made her bolder.

She began to move her hips, slow at first, grinding against the hard bulge in his pants, teasing him through the fabric. Her hands braced against his chest, nails digging into his skin as she rocked her body against his hard restrained dick, every movement deliberate, punishing, deliciously cruel.

Magnus arched beneath her, his hands gripping the edge of the table to keep from grabbing her too hard.

He was losing control.

And Astrid knew it.

But this, this.. was her moment.

Her eyes met his, wild and gleaming.

"Still think you’re in control?" she whispered, voice like smoke and broken stars.

Magnus smiled darkly. "Not even a little."

Astrid leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear, her voice a low, dangerous whisper.

"I should kill you right now, you know."

His breath hitched, but just for a second.

Before she could even smirk, he moved, fast

In a blur of motion, Magnus surged upward, lifting her with him. Her back slammed against the wall, the cold surface biting into her spine. Her legs stayed locked around his waist, their bodies pressed so tightly together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Her breath caught, not from fear, but from the raw, pulsing tension between them.

Magnus’s hands gripped her thighs, holding her firm, but one slid up, slower now, deliberate, and slipped beneath the waistband of her trousers.

Astrid’s eyes fluttered shut as her head fell back against the wall, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"Magnus..." she began, but it was drowned in the pulse thudding in her ears.

He buried his face in her neck, lips grazing her skin, breath hot and hungry.

"Oh, how I’ve missed this, how I’ve missed you" he breathed against her throat