The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 60: Blood and Silence

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: Blood and Silence

Kieran’s POV

Lorraine’s face was too pale.

Her skin, once sun-kissed and defiant, looked like bleached parchment, drained, fading fast. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, like her lungs couldn’t remember how to function. My arms were soaked in her blood. I didn’t know where her wound ended and my panic began.

I didn’t think.

I moved.

The world blurred as I sped through the forest, her fragile bo.dy pressed tightly against mine. Branches shattered in my path, the wind screamed past my ears, and my heart beat louder than thunder in my chest.

The academy hospital loomed ahead, sterile white and useless, until now.

The moment I kicked open the doors, the chief medic, a nervous, aging wolf with a streak of gray in his hair, looked up. His eyes widened at the sight of me. He didn’t need an introduction. He knew who I was. And more importantly, he knew what it meant when I was the one carrying someone in.

He didn’t wait for permission.

"Bed three, NOW!" he shouted to his staff. "Prepare for high-volume blood loss!"

They rushed forward, wheeling out the gurney, laying Lorraine on the sheets like porcelain about to shatter.

I didn’t move.

Just as the doctor turned to begin, I grabbed his arm.

"If she dies," I said, low and lethal, "you die too."

He froze. Not from surprise. From fear. Real, bone-deep, instinctual terror.

"I..... I understand, my prince," he stammered, throat bobbing, hands trembling.

He vanished into the trauma room with his team. Doors slammed. Lights flared. Machines beeped. I stood there, for a moment, staring at the red Lorraine had left on my hands.

Then I sat.

Cross-legged, right there in the hallway. No pacing. No shouting. Just silence.

I looked calm. Composed. A picture of cool, unreadable power.

But inside?

My wolf was tearing itself apart.

He snarled beneath my skin, pacing in circles like a caged beast. Clawing at my insides. Snapping at my bones. He wanted to storm in and guard her bed. He wanted blood for every drop Lorraine had lost.

Why her?

Why was my my wolf so.... consumed by her?

She isn’t my mate. My wolf doesn’t call her mate.

It just..... howls for her. It is like a scream in my soul. My wolf wasn’t just drawn to her. He needed her. Needed her safe.

Needed her alive.

I didn’t understand it.

There was sudden footstep sounds

"Your Highness!"

Theron, my personal assistant

He skidded into view, panting like he’d run across the entire academy. His clothes were neat, his tone polished, but his nerves betrayed him.

He bowed instantly. "My prince. I waited for you outside the hunting grounds, but you weren’t there and....."

I raised my hand.

Theron’s mouth snapped shut.

Another word and I would rip his tongue out. I didn’t even need to say it. He knew.

Silence reclaimed the hall. The lights buzzed above us. Far off, I could still hear the monitor from Lorraine’s room, a soft beep-beep-beep that I clung to like a lifeline.

I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes for a second.

Lorraine....

There was still so much I didn’t know about her.

So many questions that haunted me.

Why was her wolf dormant?

Why did my own react to her like she was the moon itself?

Why had she survived this long, against all odds?

And why.... why did her pain feel like my own?

She had to live.

Because whatever she was, whatever secret was wrapped beneath her bruised skin and stubborn glare, I was not done unraveling it.

Not yet.

The emergency room doors suddenly creaked open.

The scent of blood and antiseptic hit me first. Then came the sound of hesitant footsteps. The doctor, his white coat stained with red, stepped into the hallway.

He looked pale.

Not the kind of pale that comes from exhaustion, but the kind that settles when you’re about to deliver bad news to someone who can end your bloodline with a blink.

His hands shook.

His lips trembled.

He walked like a man approaching his own own funeral pyre.

I stood.

Slowly. Quietly. And yet, even that motion made the air crackle with tension.

My full height loomed over him, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow what little courage he had.

"Speak," I commanded.

My voice was low. Controlled. But beneath it was a growl that wasn’t human.

"She.... she’s alive," the doctor stammered.

A breath escaped my lips, only half a relief.

"But...."

He swallowed hard.

"She’s still unconscious. We.... we couldn’t stabilize her. She’s lost far too much blood. Her wounds, they’re.... too deep. And her wolf.... it’s not responding. Not even attempting to heal. It’s like it’s dormant. The injuries aren’t responding to our treatments either."

He finally looked up at me, eyes filled with dread.

"She might not last the night."

Something snapped.

The next thing I knew, my hand was around his throat.

He didn’t scream, there wasn’t time.

I lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing, his legs kicking in the air. His eyes bulged, his mouth opened in a silent gasp.

"What use are you," I snarled, "if you can’t even save the life of a mere feral?"

My claws slid out with a sickening sound, black and sharp. My wolf was howling inside me, screaming. This wasn’t just anger. This was wrath. Fear. Desperation.

Theron rushed forward. "My prince, please! She’s not gone yet....."

"Back off," I snapped without looking.

He froze.

The doctor was gurgling now, his fingers clawing at my arm.

I pulled my arm back, claws raised, ready to end him.....

Then.....

Whoosh.

A gust of wind and a sharp shove knocked me back a step.

The doctor tumbled out of my grip, coughing and gasping on the floor, clutching his throat.

I steadied myself, fury surging through my veins. My head snapped up.

Who dared...

And then I saw her.

Astrid Voss.

Standing between me and the doctor, her expression unreadable, eyes cool and composed. Not a single wrinkle in her pristine red suite. Not a hair out of place.