The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans
Chapter 99: Show No Weakness

Chapter 99: Chapter 99: Show No Weakness

Lorraine’s POV

The pain didn’t hit me right away.

At first, there was only shock, then the sound.

A crack, so sharp and violent it didn’t even seem real.

Then the blood sprayed out, warm, hot, and far too much. It spattered onto the stone floor like drops of red rain, and I just stared at it. My body swayed. My hand throbbed. I tried to scream, but my throat refused to cooperate. My lungs were frozen, like I’d forgotten how to breathe.

My middle finger was gone.

Gone.

I blinked, trying to make sense of it, but the world tilted and twisted around me. All I could see was red. All I could feel was the slow-burning realization crawling up my nerves like fire ants.

I lifted my head up

The students, so many of them now, watching from the steps, the windows, the balconies.

Surprised, yes.

But not shocked in the way they should’ve been.

Their faces didn’t show horror. Not disgust. Not even pity.

Just curiosity. Fascination. A sick kind of thrill, like they’d just witnessed a spectacle, something worth gossiping about, but not worth feeling for.

Some were smiling.

Not out of cruelty. No... worse. They were smiling because they didn’t care.

Not really. _{f.re(e) w.e(b)nov el.c.om}

I didn’t want their pity. Goddess, I didn’t. But the emptiness in their faces.... the way they looked through me like I was already gone...

It was like I was nothing.

"Let this be a lesson," Magnus Thorn said, loud and crisp, as if nothing had happened, as if I was just an object he’d corrected.

He turned to the students, still gripping the bloody handkerchief he’d wiped his hand with.

"Punishment doesn’t end with pain," he continued. "Lorraine Anderson is hereby placed on full cleaning duty for the rest of the week. She will not attend any class. Instead, during every period, she will be cleaning every hall, every wall, every gutter, and every toilet in this school."

He paused, letting the weight of his voice settle.

"Let this serve as a warning. This academy is not your playground. It is a crucible. I am not here to coddle weaklings or stroke egos. I am here to forge warriors. And the first law of strength.... is discipline."

His voice was like a whip across the courtyard, every word slicing through the stunned silence.

"If you cannot learn," he said, eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk, "then be ready to lose. In body. In pride. In blood."

He tossed the bloody handkerchief on the ground beside me like I wasn’t even there.

And just as he turned....

"How could you?"

The voice tore through the air like a thunderclap.

Adrian.

I turned my head, still shaking, just as Adrian Vale shoved his way through the crowd, his face twisted in horror.

"How could you do this to her?" he shouted again, his voice ragged, cracking under the weight of fury. "She’s a student! Not some animal!!!"

He dropped to his knees beside me, pulling me into his arms, his hands trembling as he looked at the mangled ruin of my hand.

"She’s a wolf like you! She’s.... how could you?"

It wasn’t just anger in his voice.

It was pain.

As if he had been the one punished.

As if he had lost a part of himself when I lost that finger.

His arms were around me, shielding me, trying to stop the bleeding with his sleeve, with his own hands, whispering over and over, "I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Lorraine, stay with me. Please..."

There was a sudden footstep

Fast. Heavy.

Someone was running toward us.

I turned my head just as Felix burst out from the building, his eyes landing on me... and then on the floor.

He froze.

And in that moment, I saw it, the moment his heart shattered.

He saw my blood. He saw the piece of me lying there on the ground like discarded trash. He saw Adrian holding me, struggling to stop the bleeding. And his eyes, those warm, fire-bright eyes, darkened into something terrifying.

"No...." Felix breathed. "No. No, no, no..."

Adrian stood halfway, trying to sttop him. "Felix, don’t—"

But he was too late.

Felix moved with the force of an avalanche, launching himself at Director Thorn with a roar that was so loud, so feral, it shook the courtyard.

Gasps echoed through the crowd.

Magnus Thorn didn’t flinch.

His claws shot out in a blink, gleaming like they were forged for violence, and as Felix closed the distance, Thorn simply turned his body to the side and slashed.

One, clean motion.

Blood sprayed.

Felix’s body jerked midair as the slash carved across his chest. The force of it spun him sideways, and he crashed to the ground with a bone-crunching thud.

"FELIX!" I screamed, my throat tearing raw.

Adrian was already moving, diving to his side. "No—no, no, stay with me, Felix!"

Felix coughed, choking on blood, his chest rising and falling erratically, his shirt soaked in red. He reached a hand weakly toward me, toward the others, toward anything, and then let it fall.

"No," I whispered, dragging myself forward despite the pain. "No. Please, Goddess, no..."

Around us, the crowd stood silent, but not out of respect.

Out of fear.

Out of sick, morbid fascination.

And Magnus Thorn?

He shook the blood off his claws with the calm of a man who had simply swatted a fly.

"This is the price of rebellion," he said, his voice like stone. "Let it be etched into your memories. If..."

"That’s enough."

The voice cracked through the air like lightning striking dry bone.

Everyone froze.

Astrid Voss stepped forward and seized his wrist.

Magnus Thorn whirled around, more surprised than angry at first, his eyes narrowing. "Astrid—"

"That. Is. Enough." she hissed, steel laced through every word. Her silver hair gleamed like the sharpened edge of a dagger, catching the cold sun as it spilled across the courtyard. Her body was poised, furious, like a drawn bow.

Gasps swelled, whispers hissing behind hands. The crowd sensed it, this wasn’t just a scolding. This was a challenge.

"Enough of this bloodsport. Enough of you acting like you rule this place," she snapped, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade through fog. "I don’t care what title the Alpha King gave you. You’re not a god. You’re not a king. And you sure as hell aren’t the law."

Thorn’s expression darkened, his lips curling into a sneer. "Careful, Astrid," he growled, his claws twitching at his sides. "You forget yourself."

But Astrid didn’t flinch. Her eyes narrowed, glowing faintly under the weight of her fury. "No. You’ve forgotten what this academy stands for."

The crowd was silent now, utterly silent.

Even the wind had stilled.

"This academy was built to train warriors," Astrid continued, voice rising, carrying across every stunned face, "not butchers. We’re meant to sharpen them, not dismember them. This is a place to break limits, not bones."

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t falter.

"You’re no longer a warlord, Magnus. So stop playing like you are still one."

His entire body tensed. His shadow, long and pulsing with restrained rage, seemed to twitch against the ground like it might pounce. He was this close to exploding.

But Astrid had already turned from him, dismissing him with a sharp flick of her coat like he was beneath her notice.

She crouched beside Adrian, who was still kneeling in the bloodied dirt, hands trembling as they hovered over Felix’s limp, unmoving form.

"Take him," she ordered, her voice low but forceful. "Run. Now."

Adrian blinked, sweat shining on his brow. "What—what about Lorraine?"

"I’ll handle her," Astrid said without hesitation. "Tell the infirmary tge bills are on me. Tell them I sent him. They’ll know what to do."

Adrian hesitated, clearly torn. His eyes locked on mine, red-rimmed and raw. But Astrid didn’t let him hesitate long.

"Go, boy," she snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.

That was all it took. Adrian swallowed hard, slid his arms beneath Felix, and with his wolf strength, he lifted him into the air. Felix’s chest was slashed open, his blood soaking into Adrian’s shirt. But he didn’t care.

Adrian turned, his boots slipping in the blood as he bolted across the courtyard, vanishing into the halls like a shadow chased by fire.

I was still on the ground, kneeling in a puddle of my own blood. My hand was clutched against my chest, the raw stump pulsing with a steady throb that made it hard to breathe. My breath came in ragged pulls. The shock hadn’t worn off. The pain was there now, oh gods, it was there, but it still felt distant, like I was watching it happen to someone else.

Astrid didn’t bend down. She didn’t offer a hand.

She just looked at me like I was a soldier on the battlefield.

"On your feet, girl," she said, her voice like flint striking stone.

I looked up at her, dazed, swaying slightly.

"Show no bloody weakness," she said sharply. "Not here. Not ever. Do you hear me?"

I nodded, but it wasn’t enough.

"On your feet, now."

And I moved.

I don’t know how I managed it, but I pushed myself up. My knees trembled. My head swam. Blood dripped steadily from the wound, down my arm, painting a grotesque trail. Every heartbeat sent a bolt of fire through my nerves, but I gritted my teeth and stood.

The students around us didn’t speak.

They didn’t move.

They just watched.

Some with morbid fascination. Others with fear. A few even smirked.

None of them helped.

None of them ever helped.

Astrid turned on her heel and began walking.

She didn’t look back.

The crowd parted for her like she was a knife cutting through flesh

I followed

I limped after her, walking past them all, thhe nobles, the elites, the Lycans who had come to spectate.

My head was held high despite the pain, despite the whispers following me like flies clinging to blood. I could feel my blood leaving a trail behind us, a trail I didn’t care to hide.