The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 31: Run, Little Wolf

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Run, Little Wolf

I stared at him, Kieran Valerius Hunter, the Lycan Prince, the one all the wolves bowed to, and I hated that he held all the cards. Hated that he was right. That I needed him. That my pride meant nothing now, not when Callum’s blood was soaking into sterile white floors, not when Felix was barely able to stand, not when Elise’s fingers was going cold.

They were dying. And it was my fault.

"I agree to your terms," I said, my voice hoarse. "One month. I’ll serve you for one month"

It felt like a noose tightening around my neck, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t afford to.

Kieran’s eyes glinted like polished steel, and something flickered across his face, almost a smile, but not quite. It was the look of someone who had just won a bet. Cold. Sure. Dangerous.

"Good," he said, his voice like velvet laced with poison. "Now we’re getting somewhere."

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and braced myself for what came next. But instead of moving, Kieran turned to me, a slight tilt to his head.

"Can you run?" he asked.

I blinked. "Yes."

He arched a brow. "I mean run, little wolf. Not your two-legged feral jog. I mean run. Like a werewolf."

I hesitated. "Well... not really."

His lips twitched. "Not really?"

"My wolf—" I exhaled, frustrated. "She’s dormant. I’ve never... shifted. Not even once. So no, I don’t know how to superspeed."

His gaze darkened, not in judgment, but in understanding. For a second, I thought I saw something else there, curiosity? Pity? But it vanished before I could name it.

"Well," he said after a beat, "you said your friends are dying. And we don’t have time."

He turned fully toward me, his tone cool, unbothered. "Run the way you know how. Sprint. Crawl. Fly, if you’ve got wings hidden under that ragged uniform. I’ll see you at the hospital."

Before I could open my mouth to protest, his figure blurred, and in the next heart beat, he was gone.

The sudden emptiness he left behind hit me like a gust of wind.

I stood under the tree, breath catching in my throat, heart pounding like a war drum. No strength. No speed. No power.

But I had legs. I had fire. I had purpose.

And I ran.

I ran like the world was ending. Like death was chasing my heels. Like every breath was a bargain I had no right to win. My shoes tore against the gravel path. My lungs burned with every gasp of air, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I pushed past students who sneered and laughed, the sounds fading behind me like the echo of a nightmare.

The academy hospital came into view, cold and clinical against the blood-red sky.

Kieran would be there.

And I... I would be whatever he needed me to be.

Because Callum still had his eyes open.

And I hadn’t come this far to let them close.

By the time I reached the hospital, I was drenched in sweat, lungs on fire, my legs barely holding me up. I stumbled through the main doors, chest heaving, heart thudding so loud it drowned out every other sound.

The tiles under my feet were slick with blood.

I stopped dead, my breath catching.

The same hallway where I’d left them, Callum, Felix, Elise, the others, was empty. But the stains remained. Rust-colored smears, like someone had tried to clean them but gave up halfway. There were torn cloth scraps, a shredded bandage, a broken stretcher wheel lying at an odd angle.

All that remained of the chaos. Of them.

Panic rose in me like a tidal wave.

Where were they?

Where was Callum?

I spun around, frantic. My hands trembled as I shoved past a nurse who didn’t even glance at me. That same nurse had looked me dead in the face not long ago and told me they wouldn’t help us. Now she was sprinting down the hall with a tray of medical tools.

The entire hospital had transformed. The lazy indifference was gone. Staff were everywhere, barking orders, wheeling bodies on stretchers, racing into surgical rooms. It was as if the academy had suddenly remembered that ferals were people.

It didn’t make sense. _{f|ree(w)ebn\o.vel.com}

Until I saw him.

Kieran.

Seated like a king among the madness, unmoved, untouched.

He was reclining in one of the waiting area chairs like he didn’t have a care in the world. One leg crossed over the other, long fingers draped over the armrest. His uniform was spotless. His expression unreadable.

But his presence?

His presence was a command.

The hospital bowed to it.

I ran to him, chest still heaving. "What’s going on?"

He didn’t even look up. "Isn’t it obvious?"

My throat burned. "The staff, they’re treating the ferals. All of them."

He gave a lazy shrug, like it was nothing.

"Because I told them to."

I just stared at him.

"You..." I swallowed. "You told them to?"

"That was the deal," he said, tilting his head slightly. "They live. You serve."

His words hit me like a slap.

It was all a transaction to him. A trade. Life for servitude.

And still, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, not completely. Not when he was the only reason any of them had a chance.

But just as I was about to thank him, the moment shattered.

A doctor approached us. His coat was soaked in blood. His face pale. His lips tight.

He didn’t speak right away, and I knew.... I knew something was wrong.

"We tried," he said. His voice trembled. "We did everything we could."

My chest tightened. My mouth went dry. "Who?"

He looked at me, eyes full of pity.

"The boy... the one with the severed arm, we lost."

My legs gave out.

I collapsed onto the cold floor, hands slapping against the tile.

"No." The word came out strangled. "No, no, no. He, he was alive. He was still awake.....he... he kept his eyes open for me—he said.....he promised—"

The doctor didn’t respond.

Didn’t have to.

Because I saw it in his face.

Callum was gone.