The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 118: The Blood in Her Veins

Chapter 118: Chapter 118: The Blood in Her Veins

Lorraine’s POV

I didn’t know how to answer Adrian.

Not because I didn’t believe Kieran, but because I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Elise.... in his bathroom? Bound in silver, bleeding and broken? How do I make sense of that?

But before I could respond, the door to Elise’s room flew open with a bang.

"Help! Help, we need help here!" Felix’s voice pierced through the hallway like a blade. "Her whole body is shaking... call the doctor, please!"

My blood froze.

"Elise...." I gasped, already running toward the nurses’ station. Adrian sprinted beside me, both of us shouting for help.

The nurses moved quickly, already grabbing their tools and calling for backup. In less than a minute, they were flooding into Elise’s room, wires, machines, vials, everything in hand.

We waited outside. I paced. Adrian sat down, his hands clenching and unclenching. Felix just stood there, staring at the door like he could somehow will it to open and give him better news.

And then... it did.

The doctor stepped out, her face pale beneath the harsh hospital lights.

"She’s convulsing," the doctor said. "She’s had a severe shock, possibly triggered by the residual pain, or the trauma. But that’s not the worst of it."

I felt my stomach twist.

"What is?" Adrian asked, voice low and tense.

"The wolfsbane that is in her bloodstream, they are not just trace amounts, her blood is saturated with it. It’s poisoning her from the inside, attacking her organs, her cells... everything. That much wolfsbane should’ve killed her already. The fact that she’s still breathing is..." she hesitated, "...a miracle."

"So... what do we do?" Felix’s voice cracked like a brittle branch. "There has to be something."

The doctor shook her head, slow and grim. "To purge that level of wolfsbane, we’d have to drain every drop of blood from her body. And doing that... would be the same as killing her."

I felt something cold rush through me. The hallway spun, but I stayed standing.

"She might not survive the night," the doctor finished.

Silence.

The world felt suddenly too quiet, like everything had gone mute, except the pounding of my heart in my ears. Elise. My friend. My roommate. I had only just found her again, and now...

"She has to live," I whispered, my hands clenched at my sides. "She has to."

I slowly walked into the hospital room and Felix and Adrian followed suite.

I stood beside Elise’s bed, the sterile scent of disinfectant doing nothing to mask the scent of death that clung to the air like a storm cloud.

She looked.... gone.

Her skin was pale, too pale. And worse, it was starting to turn blue at the edges, her lips already losing their color. Tubes were attached to her arms. Machines blinked and beeped beside her. But all I could focus on was the slow, painful rise and fall of her chest.

Each breath looked like a battle.

Adrian was silent on one side of the bed. Felix on the other, gripping her hand like letting go would send her further into the abyss. No one said a word.

My tears fell soundlessly.

They burned.

It wasn’t just grief, it was rage. A rage that boiled deep and dark in my chest, twisting into something venomous. Why?

Why do we have to go through this?

Why does Elise, who has already suffered so much, have to go through this?

Bound in silver. Drenched in wolfsbane. Tongue ripped out.

Who does that? What kind of monster takes pleasure in breaking someone beyond repair?

I clenched my fists, biting back a sob that clawed at my throat. My body trembled, not from fear, but fury. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shatter something. Burn the whole damn academy to the ground.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Without saying a word, I turned and stormed out of the room, pushing past the nurse in the hallway. Adrian called my name faintly, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

My boots pounded the corridor floor like war drums, my vision blurred by tears and blinding rage.

Because I knew one thing for sure

Someone did this to Elise.

And I would find out who.

And when I do... I will make them bleed. No matter who they are.

*******

The search in the Lycan dorm ended in silence.

Not the kind that came with relief or celebration, but one that hung heavy and unnatural, like the air before a storm.

The Lycan dorms had been scoured from top to bottom. Every room torn apart, every corner checked, every drawer overturned. And yet, nothing. No sigils. No coded letters. No hidden relics of the Crimson Hunt. Not even a whisper of conspiracy.

But what should’ve been the biggest discovery of the morning, the brutally wounded feral girl found bound and unconscious in the prince’s bathroom, wasn’t even mentioned again after it happened

Not once.

Not in passing. Not in whispers. Not in glances.

It was as if it didn’t happen.

As if it didn’t matter.

Astrid Voss didn’t bring it up again. Neither did anyone else.

And throughout it all, Kieran Valerius Hunter, the Lycan prince himself, remained still.

He stood with his arms folded, back slightly arched against the cold dorm wall, a blankness veiling his normally sharp, watchful eyes. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just.... watched. But even that felt wrong. Like his mind wasn’t even there anymore.

Varya, emboldened by the absence of attention and flushed with her usual delusions of grandeur, took the opportunity to slither closer to him.

"I really felt your absence thiss past week, my prince," she said sweetly, voice syrupy and practiced. "The dorm wasn’t the same without you. Honestly, you should’ve seen the chaos, Lycan standards plummeted. But now that you’re back, I’m sure things will get back in order."

She offered him a smile, tilted her head coyly, and laid a hand gently against his forearm.

Kieran didn’t respond.

He didn’t blink.

He didn’t even acknowledge she had spoken.

His eyes remained locked on a distant, invisible point ahead, his jaw tight, his body coiled like a loaded weapon barely held back.

And then, Astrid’s voice cut across the silence. "There’s nothing here. We’re done."

That was all it took.

In a blink, Kieran vanished. The sound of displaced air was was the only sign he’d ever been there.

Varya’s words died on her lips, her hand still awkwardly extended in midair.

He didn’t even wait for Astrid’s dismissal.

He didn’t care.

Because in that moment, only one thing existed in Kieran’s mind.... was Lorraine

.....

As the sun climbed reluctantly above the horizon, casting a dull grey over the academy grounds, the search resumed.

Astrid Voss stood beneath the cold shadow of the Elite dormitory gates, her dark coat fluttering in the wind. Her face was unreadable. She had barely arrived when she spotted Magnus Thorn approaching with a pack of elite students trailing behind him like wolves trying to look tame.

"They’ve all been rounded up," Magnus reported. "All accounted for."

Astrid nodded once. "Then let’s begin."

The elite dorm was pristine and neat. Gleaming floors, color-coordinated bedspreads, wardrobes arranged alphabetically by family name.

They moved in sections, tearing through each room in a thorough, merciless rhythm. Astrid moved with her hands clasped behind her back, her gaze sharp and cold, while Magnus gave orders for mattresses to be overturned and drawers pulled apart. The elite students followed in quiet tension, watching everything, saying nothing.

First room, nothing.

Second room, nothing.

Third, fourth, fifth... still nothing.

It wasn’t until the seventh room that the silence broke.

"Director Voss," one of the guards called. "You should see this."

Astrid strode over, Magnus a step behind her. The guard was standing in front of an open wardrobe, its contents scattered across the floor. Folded uniforms, belts, training gear... and nestled beneath a pile of academy sweaters, something glinted in the artificial light.

Astrid knelt and pulled it out.

A knife.

Beautifully crafted. Slim and wickedly curved. But what sent a jolt through the room was the emblem carved into the hilt.

A wolf’s skull. Fangs bared. The unmistakable mark of the Crimson Hunt.

Silence fell. The elite students behind them stiffened, eyes darting to each other, some taking involuntary steps back.

Astrid turned slowly, lifting the blade so the sigil caught the light. Her voice was calm, but it cut through the air like ice.

"Who does this wardrobe belong to?"

No one answered.

The silence thickened. You could feel the tension climbing like vines around the room.

Magnus stepped forward, voice firm. "I said, who. Does. This. Belong. To?"

Again, silence.

Until a figure moved.

Slowly, from the back of the crowd, a single elite stepped forward.

Alistair Ashthorne.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t deny.

He simply looked at the blade in Astrid’s hand and then met her gaze.

"It’s mine," he said.