The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 36: A Spill of Blood

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: A Spill of Blood

I stared at Adrian, heart pounding, unable to form words.

There was something hollow in him now, something that hadn’t been there before. His eyes weren’t just tired; they were dead in places, as if Aveline’s heart hadn’t been the only thing ripped out that day. He’d lost his only family, his only reason to keep breathing, to keep surviving. And it had been done so casually. So cruelly. By Lycans.

By Kieran’s people.

The realization struck like a punch tobthe gut. _{f\r(e)ewe.b no\vel.com}

Kieran.

I had almost... forgotten.

Somewhere between the protests and the punishments, the deaths and the despair... I’d let myself forget who he really was. What he was.

The Lycan Prince.

The second most powerful wolf in the kingdom. Feared. Untouchable. Ruthless.

Only second to his father, the Alpha King himself.

I blinked, disoriented. How had I let that truth slip through the cracks in my mind? How had I grown so used to his presence, to his voice, that I’d managed to bury the weight of his title?

Had I really been that desperate for help?

No.

No, I had chosen to ignore it.

I knew what Lycans were. Every feral did. We were raised on the stories. The warnings. We knew they didn’t feel the way others did. Their emotions were primal, violent, calculated, and cold. And Kieran... he was worse than most. He wore his cruelty like a second skin, smooth and effortless. He was more than Astrid Voss, more than Selene, more than Alistair.

He was born into blood and ruthless killings.

And I... I had clung to him like a fool, hoping for salvation from the same hands that had broken so many.

The truth burned my throat

I wanted to deny Adrian’s story. I wanted to tell myself that Kieran had been just a boy that day. That he hadn’t known what was happening. That he hadn’t seen the terror in Aveline’s eyes. But deep down, I knew better.

He’d looked at her body and walked away.

Just like that.

My breath hitched. My bones felt cold. The shiver crept up my spine and rooted itself in the hollow of my chest.

How many others had he watched die? How many hearts had he watched get torn out, silently, mercilessly?

How many times had those golden eyes of his looked past blood and suffering like it was just part of the scenery?

I thought about the way he’d grabbed me earlier, strong and possessive, when I was about to step into the pond. The way he’d told me I had no right to die because my body belonged to him now

Belonged.

He hadn’t said it like a figure of speech. He meant it.

I was his.

Just like a dagger. A trophy. A toy.

He wasn’t saving me. He was keeping me.

And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

I turned away from Adrian, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the scream down. Kieran had helped me, yes. He’d held me, yes. But how many had he killed before me? How many like Aveline had he stepped over to reach where he stood now?

The answer was likely too high to count.

I hated the thought. I hated that part of me still wanted to believe he was different. That he could be different.

But the look on Adrian’s face, the emptiness in his voice, there was no lie in that.

The Lycan Prince doesn’t feel.

He kills.

And I’d just made a deal with him. A month of servitude. A month as his possession.

My hand curled into a fist.

I had forgotten who he was.

But now, I would remember.

And I would never forget again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, turning to Adrian and finally asked the question clawing at the back of my mind.

"Then... how did you get into the Academy, Adrian? With everything... after Aveline... how did you end up here?"

Adrian didn’t look at me right away. His eyes drifted to the side, focused on something distant, something far beyond the crumbling courtyard walls or the bloodied moon hanging above us.

He took a breath. Slow. Hollow.

"After she died," he said, voice low, "my father, yhe Alpha, sold me."

My brows furrowed. "What?"

"Your father sold you?" I whispered, disbelief curling around every syllable.

Adrian nodded, his eyes dull with memory. "After Aveline died, he looked at me like I was a curse. Said our bloodline had brought nothing but shame to the pack. That we were blemishes he should’ve never let live. My mother was already gone, died giving birth to Aveline. And with Aveline gone, there was actually no reason to even plead to stay."

His voice cracked a little.

"Aveline," he murmured, as though her name alone had the power to shatter him. "She was the only person in the world I had. And after she died... I didn’t fight when he sold me. What was the point?"

My chest tightened. There was something unbearable about the way he spoke, no bitterness, just quiet acceptance. Like he had long stopped expecting anything from the world. Like he’d already buried every part of himself that could still hope.

"Who did he sell you to?" I asked, though the answer felt irrelevant compared to the cruelty he’d lived through.

He tilted his head back against the stone wall, the fading sun casting bruised shadows across his face. "The Ashveil Pack. You know them?"

I nodded slowly. Everyone knew the Ashveil Pack. Cruel, cold, old-money nobles with bloodstained hands and an unshakeable grip on power. They were the kind of wolves that smiled with their teeth before sinking them into your throat.

"There," he continued, "I was nothing. Not a noble. Not a son. Not even a person. Just a mutt who cleaned their filth and stayed silent. I worked day and night, didn’t complain, didn’t make eye contact. I became a ghost."

He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "And the Alpha... he liked that. Said I reminded him of a faithful hound. So one day, after years of crawling and bleeding and being spat on, he told me I’d earned a wish. One wish. Anything I wanted."

I blinked. "And... you chose this place? Lunar Crest?"

His gaze flickered to mine. "Yeah."

I couldn’t hide the confusion in my voice. "Why would you want to come here? This place kills people like us."

Adrian’s lips curled into a half-smile, sharp with pain. "Because I wanted to see him. The Lycan Prince. I wanted to see if he remembered. If he’d recognize the face of the brother of the girl who died at his feet. The girl who was nothing but a just another body to him."

My stomach twisted.

"And maybe," he added, voice dropping lower, darker, "I wanted to spill soup on his shoes again."

I stilled.

Adrian looked at me, the weight in his stare pressing down on me like stone.

"See if he’d kill me himself this time," he whispered, "now that there’s no royal guard to do it for him."