Moonstone Academy: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

I hate my life.

  Yes, I hate everything about it, even Bellanore. While she might very well be the best thing to ever happen to me, I will have to force a goodbye out of her just as I was forced to say goodbye to my parents, to my brother, to my entire pack.

  My heart is beating slowly, a three-beat cadence that I swear sounds like “run away, run away, run away…”

  If only I could.

  But I can’t.

  Or can’t I? Maybe running away would be the best for everyone.

  No. No, I can’t. I’m weak, yes, but I’m too weak to leave Bellanore. I need her for as long as I can.

  I’m stuck in this gray in-between, not really living, not yet dead.

  I need to just deal with everything, with Bellanore and my growing feelings, with the curse, with my guilt, all of it.

  I’ve always dealt with everything before. I need to now too.

  Chapter 26

  Bellanore

  The headmaster Virgil Thorn, a werewolf with black hair and amber eyes, is in the center of the group, going on about the lockdown, how he thinks this is for the best since the students haven’t proven themselves to be prudent, blah, blah, blah. It’s a load of nonsense, considering he’s referring to the vampire statue incident only and not the fight that broke out between Robb and Roald.

  Why hadn’t I asked him about that? I should’ve, but Robb and I… Sometimes, there’s something spoken in the quiet, and I can almost hear what he’s saying.

  Almost but not quite.

  Is it just his grief? There’s something he can’t bring to words, an unspeakable pain that he’s suffering, and I don’t know if I can help him through it or if I will only make things worse for him. As much as I want to help him, I don’t want to risk hurting him in another fashion.

  My shoulders are all knotted, and I try to roll them to ease the tension as I abandon the crowd. Ellamaria isn’t here. Maybe she’s back in the room. I wonder what she’ll say about the fight. She kept me from it because she sought to keep me safe. She knew I would interfere, and I shudder to think what might’ve happened if I hadn’t. Roald is strong, but Robb is stronger, isn’t he? Robb would’ve won, right? I mean, he did take down a drow.

  But he had been blinded by rage and grief then. Unless Roald insulted his honor, would Robb have unleashed his inner wolf entirely? Would Robb have been able to control his wolf to prevent himself from killing again? As much as I don’t care for Roald, I wouldn’t want him dead.

  The pain from my shoulders radiates to my neck, and I rub the back there to try to help. The wind shifts, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and nature. A few small woodland animals are nearby, but I leave them be. They aren’t frightened of werewolves in our human forms, not even in our wolf forms. Only if we come at them as a predator. They recognize us as animals, and that is what we partially are.

  Human and animal.

  Predator and ally.

  The wind turns a bit colder, and I close my eyes, halting my slow pace to enjoy the sweet caress. When Robb bit my neck, I had been shocked more than anything. It hadn’t hurt, and he did it to startle me. He’s dangerous, yes, a killer, but only because he had to be. He had no choice. The world treated him cruelly, so he, in turn, had to be cruel back. Otherwise, he might have been killed too.

  I never would have met him.

  And my life would have been that much bleaker for it.

  My heart aches for him. As much as I want to ask him to tell me about his family, I also don’t want to pry. By mentioning that I wanted a sibling, I hoped he would talk to me about Rickard, but he didn’t talk about his brother. I should respect that, and I have so far, but I do wish he would tell me. I haven’t faced loss like he has, so maybe I’m wrong, but I would’ve thought that talking might help to ease the hurt, to soothe the pain, to maybe even make it seem like his brother is alive again.

  But it might make things worse. It's conceivable that Robb might even feel so guilty over the entire matter—guilt that not only did he live while his family died, but also guilt over having killed another even if no one else would begrudge him that death.

  Lost in my thoughts, I open my eyes and start to walk again.

  The wind shifts yet again, carrying a new scent. My mouth grows dry, and I stiffen. I should just teleport away, but maybe it’s because Robb stood up to Roald that I decide to turn around and face Wyatt.

  “Well, well, well,” the bully says as he stalks over to me as if he’s a lion and I’m a zebra.

  But the funny thing about that? The lions are lazy. It’s the lionesses who do the hunting.

  “What do we have here?” Wyatt crones, continuing to advance toward me. He sniffs and wrinkles his nose as if smelling something foul. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell?”

  “And what do I smell like exactly?” I ask even though I should know better than to encourage him.

  “You smell worse than a wet dog. More like a—”

  “Oh, no, honey,” I say. “I smell like victory. That’s why you aren’t used to the smell.”

  “Oh, ho! Someone has a mouth on her. Thinks she’s all big and bad, does she? But she’s here alone.”

  “So what if I am?” I shrug one shoulder. “So are you, and honestly, I have the edge on you.”

  “I don’t think so.” He curls back his upper lip. “You think you’re so tough, that you’re better than all of us, but you aren’t. You aren’t even a true she-wolf. You’re nothing but a bit of darkness. You and your wolf don’t belong here at this school. You don’t belong anywhere here on Earth.”

  “That so?” I ask mildly.

  He stalks the rest of the way to close the distance between us, moving faster than I anticipated, but he doesn’t touch me.

  Not yet at least.

  “So if you don’t want me here or on Earth… You don’t want to kill me because then I would be buried. Or you want me to burn, but then my bones would remain…” I wrinkle my nose. “That wouldn’t work either then, buddy.”

  He flares his nostrils. “You belong in Hell.”

  I smile broadly. “Want me to drag you there? Because I’m fairly certain I’m willing to do just that.”

  “You’re nothing but a—”

  "I suggest you choose your next words wisely," I say softly as I reach up and drag a finger-turned-claw along his jawline to dig in beneath his chin, forcing his head up even though I'm shorter than he is. "Or those words may well be your last."

  He erupts into laughter. “You think that just because your boyfriend was willing to have a go with Roald that you have courage now? You think you’re going to take me on? Take me out? I don’t think so.”

  “Hmm. Fine. Whatever. You aren’t worth the breath anyhow.”

  I don't want anything to do with him. Why I even bother to snap at him, I'm not sure, but I should've just teleported immediately.

  Before I can do just that, Wyatt grabs my arm, which means I’m not going to. No way am I going to teleport him anywhere with me.

  Although the thought of teleporting deep within the ocean does hold a certain appeal…

  “You need to be put in your place,” Wyatt hisses.

  “Do I? Or is that you?” I ask. I try to jerk free, but he tightens his grip to the point that I can feel bruises form.

  “You’re a real smart ass. Or is that dumb ass?” he mocks.

  “Takes one to know one.”

  Puerile? Yes, but it’s worth it to see the flash of anger in his eyes.

  His backhand, though, stings more than I care to admit.

  A low growl rumbles from deep in my throat. My wolf longs to come out so I can lash out at him and go for his jugular. The thought of not just violence but of a killing blow startles me enough that I don’t act.

  “Get your paw off me before I remove it,” I say, my tone as cold as ice.

  “You want a paw on you? That can be arranged.” And the hand on me grows fur as Wyatt shifts just his one arm.

  The urge to transf
orm into something other than a wolf is so strong that I almost consider it, but I’m not sure what to alter myself into or if I’ll even be able to.

  That moment of indecision costs me, and Wyatt lunges, clawing at my face.

  I duck and dodge to the right, throwing a rabbit punch to the base of his skull. He staggers, and I grin, knowing his vision turned black for a second.

  Telegraphing his move, Wyatt swings as he whirls around. Again, I duck, sidestepping so I can swivel my hips and throw my weight into a round kick that strikes his midsection. The blow lands, but he's unfazed, and I grit my teeth, backing up. Both of us as humans, he has the edge. I'm faster, but he has a longer reach and more power. Like it or not, he does. Besides, he has one arm that's a wolf already. It won't take much of anything for him to transform all of the way.

  As wolves, who will have the upper hand? The upper paw? I’m not sure.

  And I’m not sure I want to find out.

  “How brave of you,” I say, circling him as he follows me. “Fighting a girl all alone.”

  “You aren’t a girl. You’re a monster.”

  “Monster, huh? How insulting. Oh, wait, I don’t care what you think of me.”

  “Monsters need to be put down.”

  “And why did you wait until now to come after me?”

  “Oh, believe me. I wanted you dead since I first laid eyes on you and realized you’re an abomination.”

  “Then why did you let me live this long?”

  “I was waiting.”

  “For what? The right time? The right moment?”

  “To see what you would do.”

  I stop circling him but keep my hands up. I’m not about to lower my guard. “And what have I done?”

  “Because of you, others have taken it upon themselves to lash out and turn toward violence that they would’ve never even thought of before.”

  “Right, because werewolves aren’t violent at all.” I roll my eyes.

  "Your presence is what inspired the others to act against the vampires. You alone are going to be the cause of a war between—"

  “Oh, please. I am not nearly that important.”

  I step back. I’ll teleport and—

  Two things happen before I can.

  Wyatt jumps at me, shifting in mid-air.

  And Robb arrives. He launches into the air, shifting just as Wyatt does, and he collides right into Wyatt’s side, knocking him down well before he can strike me.

  The two wolves go at it, ripping and tearing into each other, an entanglement of claws and fangs. There’s no way for me to even try to break them apart, and I’m not sure there’s a way that I’ll be able to wedge myself between them as I had with Robb and Roald.

  The scent of blood sears my nostrils, and I swallow hard as I strive to discern which wolf is injured enough to bleed. They're clashing like bucks with their antlers all intertwined and knotted, and one second Robb's on top, and then Wyatt is. Back and forth. One wolf's claws tears through the air, swiping toward the other's face in a wide arc, but the other brings up a paw, blocks the blow, and then presses down with all of his might. A snapping sound makes me wince. That arm just broke.

  The injured wolf tries to retreat some, and I can finally tell that this wolf is Wyatt. He’s breathing heavy, panting, his tongue out.

  Robb circles a bit and then draws back onto his haunches and then launches into the air again, pouncing again. Wyatt tries to run away, but Robb chases him down and stomps on Wyatt’s tail. He slashes at Wyatt’s back, leaving three claw marks, drawing more blood.

  Wyatt yelps. He jerks his body free from Robb’s hold, and he scampers away as fast as he can on his three good paws.

  Robb starts after him until I call out, “Robb!”

  His wolf turns toward me, and I grin.

  “Want to get out of here? Dinner’s on me.”

  Robb shifts back to himself. He’s more than a little dirty, so it’s strange that his clothes are entirely clean, but he just waits until he’s done heaving down air, his heartbeat slowing back to a normal level.

  “It’s a date,” he rasps.

  Chapter 27

  Bellanore

  I wait impatiently for Robb. He insisted on taking a quick shower before we go, and I can’t say that I blame him. He might also want to check over his wounds.

  The more I think about that fight, the more shocked I am by how Robb just went at Wyatt like that. He just pulverized him. It’s insane.

  The longer I wait, the more I start to think about our approaching date. When I suggested dinner, I meant off campus. We need the space after everything that went down with Roald and Wyatt.

  There’s one issue with that, though. We’re under lockdown.

  And then I laugh. I doubt they would’ve thought about having the place warded so I can’t use teleportation. I’m the only demonic werewolf in attendance here. Besides, they might not even realize that demons can teleport. Demons can be rather tight-lipped at times, and they like to keep tricks up their sleeves.

  So… where should we go? There are a few places that come to mind, and I’m still debating when I realize it’s been a good half-hour since Robb went inside his place.

  After a moment, I walk around until I can smell the room he’s in. Due to wallcrawling, I’m able to climb up to the third-story window. It’s not too hard to open the window even though I’m on the outside, and I slip in to find Robb asleep on his bed.

  The shower must've tuckered him out. Poor guy. A fight like that right after fighting Roald… I should've known better than to think he would be up for eating. Then again, I thought our date would've just been dinner and nothing else because I did think he'd be too tired for anything else. A full belly, and he'd be out.

  I turn to go.

  “Bellanore.”

  His voice is weak, colored by his exhaustion.

  I face him. “You rest,” I say gently. “I’ll go and—”

  He holds out a hand toward me. “You can stay.”

  Heat rushes to my face, and I duck my head. He’s turned toward me, his eyes half-hooded. His hand is still outstretched.

  “You should sleep,” I murmur.

  “I can sleep with you as my bodyguard.”

  I giggle and then stop abruptly. “Do you think they’ll come back at you?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Don’t think about them,” I say, my tone turning firm. “I’ll stay.”

  “I don’t want you to stay to be my bodyguard.”

  I melt. “I know,” I assure him. “But you don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m not afraid,” he says.

  The raw honesty in his tone leaves me aching because I can read what he’s not saying as clearly as if he uttered the words.

  I’m not afraid to die.

  He shouldn’t be thinking that. He hadn’t been injured, not that grievously.

  Unless he was, and I didn’t realize.

  I cross over to him and take his hand. His squeeze is barely perceptible. The poor guy. That's how tired he is.

  “I’ll stay,” I repeat.

  “Oh, yeah?” He cracks an eye open. “You’ll stay with me until the bitter end?”

  I nod, unable to speak past a lump in my throat.

  “Maybe even beyond.”

  He snorts, the sound soft and disgruntled. “Join me in Hell, huh?”

  “You think you’re going to Hell?” I ask, surprise coloring my words.

  Robb squeezes his eyes shut, and he gives a curt nod, the movement sharp and precise, completely at odds with his slow speech.

  As much as I want to ask why he thinks that, I don’t.

  “I failed my pack,” he murmurs.

  “No. No, you didn’t. Your family died, and you avenged them. You were well within your rights to do just that. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

  “I can, and I do.”

  “Did you kill them?” I demand, my tone now harsh.

  “No, but—”


  “Did your actions directly result in the drow killing them?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then there are no buts,” I say firmly. “Now, I’m sorry, but stop it. You aren’t the sun.”

  “No?” He chuckles weakly.

  “You aren’t the center of the universe.” My heart skips a beat. If I want to, I know the truth of the matter is that he very well could become the center of my universe, and the thought scares me. What will Dad think? How will he react? As much as I want to know what darkness my dad is involved in, I also want his approval. We have a complicated relationship.

  “You’re all I have,” Robb mumbles.

  I close my eyes to hold back tears. Once I recover my emotions, I open them, intent on reminding him that he has the rest of his pack and his alpha, but a soft snore stills my tongue. He’s sleeping.

  My hand squeezes his, and I turn to go, but he ever so faintly squeezes back with just enough pressure that I know he doesn’t want me to go. Even as he slumbers, he doesn’t want me to leave him.

  And I did tell him I would stay.

  His bed is small, but I’m small myself, and there’s just enough room for me to join him. I brush his hair back from his forehead and tickle my fingers over his scar. If I could, I would take away his pain.

  Only… I can do exactly that.

  I’m tempted, sorely tempted, but I can’t. I won’t. Not without permission. To take from him anything, even pain, without first being asked would be a violation, and I won’t do that to him. He deserves to have the choice.

  Still, my heart aches for him. Rob’s lost so much more than I have, and I wish I could help him. I wish he could see his parents again.

  If only my dad was an angel instead of a demon! Can angels teleport? I believe so, and then, as a half-angel, I could teleport to Heaven. At the very least, I could see his parents and deliver messages to Robb. I’m not sure I would be able to transport him to Heaven with me, but wouldn’t that be amazing? But there’s no way that they went to Hell. I’m sure of it. They’re in Heaven. At least the rest of his family is together, waiting for the day, hopefully decades upon decades away, when Robb will die of old age and can be reunited with them.