The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 41: Drawn In

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Drawn In

"I’m not going to let you die in this room," Kieran said, his voice firm, golden red eyes glinting in the dim light. "Not while you’re still my servant. Not while you still belong to me."

The words sent a strange chill down my spine.... not of fear, but something else entirely. Something I didn’t want to name.

I shook my head, snapping myself out of the trance his voice always seemed to pull me into. No. I needed to stay grounded. To think clearly.

"I do not belong to you," I said, my voice quieter than I meant, but still steady.

Kieran’s gaze snapped to mine, like I’d just spoken a language he didn’t understand. He blinked, once, slowly.

"I might be serving you for one month," I continued, "but I do not belong to you. I belong to myself. And myself alone."

He didn’t move at first. Just stared, like no one had ever dared say something like that to him. Then he took a step forward. And another.

I took a step back. And another

"For a feral," Kieran murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching, "you sure do have a lot of nerve. Many ferals, hell, even nobles and the elites, would roll on the ground just to be acknowledged by me. And here you are... you stubborn little wolf."

Another step. And I backed up again, but this time my heel hit something uneven.

I looked down and it was too late.

A soft click echoed beneath my boot as the stone brick under my foot sunk into the floor.

Everything happened in a flash.

A section of the wall directly beside us hissed open, and fire exploded out of it with a deafening roar.

I gasped, frozen, eyes wide in horror, but Kieran moved before I could. One second he was in front of me, the next, he’d pulled me roughly into his chest, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the other shielding the back of my head as he turned his back to the fire.

I felt the heat. The intense, blistering, suffocating heat.

But not a single flame touched me.

I buried my face into his chest, shaking. His arms never loosened. Not once

The fire raged. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. The wall slid back into place, and the brick on the floor rose back up as if nothing had happened.

I didn’t move right away. Neither did he.

When I finally pulled back, I looked up into his face. My voice caught in my throat.

"You... Are you okay?" I asked, my heart pounding. "Kieran, you—your back..."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So you worry about me now, little wolf?"

I ignored him and tried to look at his back. His shirt was practically incinerated, hanging in scorched rags. But as the cloth fell away, I saw—

Nothing. Not even a single burn or scar.

Just skin. Tanned, sculpted, impossible skin—broad shoulders, defined muscle, like something chiseled out of marble. His back rippled with strength as he moved, as if the fire had only irritated the shirt and not the god wearing it.

He reached back and casually tore off the remaining scraps of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

"You’re not in a position to worry about me, little wolf," he said with a glance over his shoulder. "I’m not nearly as weak as you ferals. Even the strongest of the Elites would cower at my feet."

He turned fully now, and I had to force myself not to stare. His chest, like his back, was flawless, sculpted and smooth, rising and falling with slow, calm breaths, like the fire hadn’t even touched him.

"I have the fastest healing ability in the entire werewolf kingdom," he added, his voice dropping a notch, smug and matter-of-fact.

I hated the way he made me feel.

That same confusing pull in in my chest, the way my breath got caught just looking at him, the heat that had nothing to do with the fire.

I hated that I didn’t hate him enough.

And I hated that he knew it.

Kieran’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm just as I was about to step backwards.

"Be careful," he said, his voice low and sharp. "This place is booby-trapped, and we don’t know how many more are hidden."

I nodded, heart still racing from the fire trap..... and something else. Something much more dangerous than flame.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, his arm slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Stick with me," he murmured, the warmth of his breath brushing the shell of my ear. "We don’t want you stepping into another trap, little wolf."

His words were teasing, but there was something deeper behind them. Something I couldn’t name.

And then we just stood there, frozen in place. His chest pressed against mine, his hand resting low on my back, holding me like I was meant to be right there, with himm

I should’ve stepped away. Should’ve said something. Should’ve breathed. But all I could do was look up at him. His face. His eyes. His messy long black hair. And those red eyes..... they weren’t just staring at me. They were seeing me.

Then my gaze dropped.

His lips.

Gods. I had never noticed a man’s mouth before, not like this. I had never wanted to lean in and—

What the hell was I thinking?

I blinked hard and jerked my eyes away, yanking myself out of the trance. My face was burning.

Kieran didn’t move either. He looked like he’d been just as lost. For a second, something open flickered across his face, soft, almost boyish, before he masked it with that cool, unreadable expression.

He turned his head sharply and froze.

"There," he said, stepping away from me. He crouched in front of the wall we’d been trying to open. His fingers skimmed the surface before he stopped at something I hadn’t noticed before.

A small hole. Barely visible.

He extended his claws. They grew long and sharp, unnaturally so, more like formidable weapons than just claws, and slid one into the hole.

A click echoed.

Then the wall slid open.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Relief flooded through me.

Without a word, Kieran grabbed my wrist again and led me through the secret door, back into Astrid’s office. Everything was untouched—eerily quiet, as if none of it had happened.

We walked out into the night. Cold air kissed my skin, and I stopped just outside the building, dragging in a deep breath.

"We made it," I whispered.

But that didn’t answer the most important question. I turned to him.

"What now?" I asked, still trying to process it all. "What do we do with everything we found? And how do we even begin to find out who Avelar and Maeryn are?"

Kieran’s eyes were distant, staring at something I couldn’t see. Then, slowly, he looked at me.

"I know who Avelar is," he said.

I tensed.

"Avelar Draven Valerius," he said quietly. "He was the first Lycan King. The founder of Lunar Crest Academy. My ancestor."