The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 72: A Weakling

Chapter 72: Chapter 72: A Weakling

Lorraine’s POV

Astrid didn’t wait for a response. The second the words left her mouth, she vanished in a blur of speed, a sharp gust of wind trailing behind her.

I stood frozen for a heartbeat, her words echoing in my ears.

The Alpha King.

He’s on his way. _{freew\e bnovel.com}

He’s furious.

I’d heard that name before, but only in whispers, always cloaked in fear, never spoken directly. People were scared to even say his name, like summoning a monster from the dark.

The ShadowFang warriors used to speak of him around the fire during long nights, thinking no one else listened. But I had. I always did. They described him like a shadow carved from wrath, god like, untouchable, and cold enough to freeze the blood in your veins. They said he was the most powerful wolf in the kingdom, stronger than the most powerful wolf you could think of

They said he didn’t forgive weakness.

Or betrayal.

Or failure.

They say he was ruthless.

And now his only son, his heir, was barely hanging onto life with a silver blade wound straight through his chest.

What would a father like that do when he saw his son bleeding out?

I had a terrible feeling I didn’t want to find out.

My heart lurched.

I ran.

"Lorraine!" Adrian called after me, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

I sprinted through the academy grounds, pushing past students and dodging guards who barely had time to register my presence. My feet slammed against the cobblestone, lungs burning, legs screaming. But none of that mattered. I only had one destination.

The Lycan dormitory.

I needed to see Kieran.

I needed to know he was alive.

I finally reached the Lycan dormitory, chest heaving, sweat sticking to my skin like second skin. The massive red gates loomed in front of me, tall, cold, and sealed tight. There wasn’t a soul in sight. No guards. No servants. No Lycans.

I stepped forward and slammed my palms against the metal, the loud clang echoing through the stone courtyard.

"Kieran!" I screamed. "Please, someone, anyone! I need to know how he’s doing!"

My fists pounded harder, over and over. The pain didn’t matter. My voice cracked. Still, no one came.

Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I caught movement.

Thorin.

Kieran’s personal servant.

He was rushing toward the gates with a group of academy healers and doctors behind him, all clad in silver-trimmed robes and carrying kits that reeked of salves and herbs and injections

Hope surged through me. I scrambled up from where I’d been kneeling and ran to intercept him.

"Thorin!" I called out breathlessly, stepping directly into his path. "Please, how is Kieran? Tell me. Is he awake? Is he...."

He stopped, just short of running into me.

And the look on his face gutted me more than any slap or insult ever could.

"You have no right to know, Lorraine."

I flinched.

Thorin’s lips curled with disdain, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"I heard everything," he spat. "Everything that happened. I told you I hated you before, and that still stands. But now?" His voice cracked. "Now I despise you."

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a sharp wave of his hand.

"You bring nothing but chaos into his life. My prince is fighting for his life right now, because of you, Lorraine. Because of you!"

My chest tightened so violently I could barely breathe.

Thorin’s voice trembled, thick with rage and grief. "The Lycan Prince. Our prince, brought to his knees, stabbed with a silver blade.... for what? For a feral?" His gaze swept over me like I was filth. "Someone as weak and low as you shouldn’t even look at him, let alone stand near him."

The words hit like knives.

"You have the guts to come here? To ask about him? After what you did?" His voice broke. "You should be ashamed."

Then he walked past me, brushing my shoulder like I was dust in the wind. The healers followed, casting wary glances but saying nothing.

I turned, swallowing the sob that burned in my throat.

Thorin reached the gate, unlocked it with trembling hands, and ushered the healers inside.

Just before he stepped through, he glanced back once, his expression full of scorn.

Then the gate slammed shut again.

And locked.

I sank to the floor the moment the gates shut

There was nowhere else to go. No strength left in me. Just the echo of his words ripping through my mind over and over.

He’s fighting for his life because of you....

I stayed there. Knees drawn up, arms wrapped tightly around myself, as if I could hold all the pieces of me together. But I couldn’t. I was shattering, bleeding inside where no one could see. And outside, I was a ghost on the pavement. The sun dipped behind the academy walls, and the moon crept into the sky, cold and distant.

Still, I stayed.

Hours passed. I didn’t move.

I barely blinked.

I just.... waited.

Hoped that he lives

Cursed. I cursed her, the moon goddess

Why? I asked the Moon Goddess, bitterly. Why give me a wolf if she was just going to abandon me again? Why connect me to Kieran if all I do is drag him into death’s grip?

I pressed my forehead to the cold ground. Why make me so damn weak?

Suddenly, a hand yanked me up by the collar of my shirt.

"Get up."

I barely had time to register the voice before I was hauled onto unsteady feet.

Alistair.

"What the hell happened at the auditorium this morning?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with suspicion and fury. "Just what the hell are you, feral?"

His voice dripped venom, his grip tight enough to bruise.

I stared at him.

And then I spat. Right in his face.

He froze.

For half a second.

Then his expression twisted into something inhuman. And he snapped.

The first punch sent me stumbling back. My already bruised ribs screamed. Before I could catch my breath, another came. And another.

I hit the ground hard, my cheekbone cracking against the stone.

He didn’t stop.

Fists rained down on me, sharp, precise, merciless. He kicked me in the gut, and I coughed, choking on blood and air and shame. My body had barely begun to heal from the last injuries. And now....

It was breaking again.

But I didn’t fight back.

I didn’t flinch.

I just let him do it.

Because my mind wasn’t here.

It was with Kieran.

He’s like that because of me....

If I had been stronger, I wouldn’t have needed saving. I wouldn’t have been a pawn, a lure. Kieran wouldn’t be lying somewhere, bleeding, because he tried to protect me.

I hated it.

I hated that people always got hurt because of me. The ferals who’d followed me during the protest. Callum. Adrian. Elise. Felix.

Kieran.

Too many people. Too much blood. All tied to me.

Alistair’s voice growled above me, full of hatred as he kept pounding into my side.

"You filthy, cursed thing. Think you’re special now, huh? You think the prince will save you again?"

I didn’t reply.

He punched me harder.

And still, I didn’t scream.

No more.

No more being weak. No more being the reason people around me ended up broken or dead.

I wanted to survive this cursed place . Yes. But that wasn’t enough anymore.

Now, I would get stronger.

Strong enough to tear down anyone who dared hurt the ones I loved.

Strong enough to protect the ones that I care about.

And when I do get that strong..... I looked straight into Alistair’s eyes

He will be the first of many that will meet their deaths by my hand.