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

by Nicole Zoltack

  I pointedly stare at the grass, at the evidence soaking into the soil, evidence they can’t destroy. Slowly, the werewolves begin to walk away until only the male, Nia, and I remain, and then even he wanders off.

  “You might’ve stopped us this time,” Nia says, “but you haven’t changed our minds. If anything, you just supplanted yourself as the one target we can practice on. You better watch your back, Bellanore.”

  “I don’t care for threats.”

  “And I don’t care for you.”

  She stalks off, and I blow out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Nia won’t back down, and honestly, neither will I.

  I pull out my phone. “Hi, yes, I need to speak to the alpha of the Forge pack. Tell him it’s Ronath’s daughter on the line.”

  Yes, I’m tattling, and you can bet by the light of the moon that I’m going to call the headmaster too.

  I’m not alone. I might not have allies, but I do know how to pull strings.

  I am a half-demon after all, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure war doesn’t happen.

  Chapter 29

  Robb

  Morning comes, and with it, I can’t help it. I can’t hide it much more. The agony of the curse is so strong that I don’t know if it’s possible for me to get out of bed.

  But I am stubborn. I'm part bull in that instance, and I refuse to go down. There are a hundred thousand things I could've done differently. I could've tried harder to find the one who could break the curse, but I didn't. Maybe I have survivor's guilt. Maybe a part of me wanted to die because why did I get extra time to live when my entire pack died? It's not fair. It's not right.

  Yes, I killed the drow, but I’m cursed now. The curse will kill me. I will die, and the Alines will be no more. So many packs have died out throughout the centuries, and the Alines will become nothing more than a statistic.

  My chest aches as I roll out of bed. Being with Bellanore gave me strength that I didn’t think I could still possess, but I’m without her now. I can barely walk. Even so, I drag myself across campus and head into class.

  Professor Rockhound is never in a good mood, and he has a foul temperament today.

  “Mr. Aline,” he snaps.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why don’t you demonstrate the forcross grip to the class.”

  I slowly nod, but I don’t stand.

  “Mr. Aline?”

  With a huff, I grip my desk and use it for balance to stand. I stumble as I make my way to the front of the classroom. There’s a huge stone granite pole in the front of the classroom, and I’m meant to use it to show the grip, but I can’t. My body feels like everything inside has melted. It’s as if I have no bones, nothing to hold me upright.

  “Mr. Aline, have you been indulging in a little extra sauce this morning?” Professor Rockhound asks.

  The class titters with laughter.

  I can barely lift my head to look at him.

  “Are you sick?” Professor Rockhound asks in a lower tone for my ears only.

  “You… You could say that,” I mumble. “I…”

  “You look ready to collapse. If you fall on me, you fail.”

  The class howls with laughter. Honestly, the joke isn’t that funny. They’re laughing at my expense. They don’t care about me, and I can’t say I blame them. The rough crowd isn’t exactly popular, and while they adopted me, I didn’t discourage them enough. They haven’t helped to bolster my reputation with the rest of the students. No one truly knows me.

  Except for Bellanore.

  If she knew about the curse, would she care? Would she help me?

  Of course not. Breaking the curse… She would never go for that.

  But I would like for her to be there when the curse ends. When my life ends.

  At least then, I might be able to have some peace before I go to Hell.

  “You disgust me,” Professor Rockhound says loudly, but his tone doesn’t have the same level of contempt as it normally does. “Leave my class until you are capable of doing anything and everything that is asked of you.”

  I nod dully and make my way to the door, shuffling my feet, trying not to fall. The class murmurs and shouts a few insults my way, but I don’t care.

  When I reach the doorway, I grab it and glower at the ones I think yelled the insults. They have the decency to look not only ashamed but also a little scared, especially when I tap a finger near my scar, a not-so-subtle reminder that I am strong and capable of taking a hit and willing to give one back.

  The trek back to my room is slow, but I manage to make it there only after falling three times. I've spent so much time here lately, mostly because I don't want to sleep outdoors anymore. I need the softness of the bed, although I do miss the stars and the moon and their light.

  The bed calls to me now, but I ignore it in favor of the trunk at the foot of my bed. I collapse, falling to my knees, and my fingers tremble as I try to turn the numbers to open the lock. Finally, it hinges, and I fling the chest open.

  Inside are several items that hold a lot of meaning to me.

  The first is a dress that Mom wore all the time. Every time she put it on, Dad always said it was his favorite. It always made her smile, which made Dad smile.

  Then, there’s the hat Dad wore. He liked to pretend it was the 1940s or something, but it gave him character. Dad was a fighter. All werewolves are, but he was also a lover too. He was a romantic, and that’s why Mom and Dad made a perfect pair.

  Rickard, ah, Rickard. I have a bat that was his. Rickard used to love to play baseball. He would have me pitch to him, but I was terrible. Either I whipped a ball clear off the plate, or else it would be a lazy pitch right down the middle that he would easily crush. I had no control whatsoever, and no matter how much he yelled at me and tried to correct my stance or fingers, I just couldn't get it.

  I wish I practiced more for his sake.

  Even though I know I should stop there, I don’t. I empty out the next times—a stake, a crossbow, a pistol, a shotgun, an axe, an assortment of knives and daggers.

  Yes, I have a large array of weapons and also holsters and belts to be able to attach all of them to my person at the same time.

  Not that long ago, I came to the realization that I've always dealt with everything that came before. No matter what it was, I would adapt. I would do what needed to be done and moved on.

  I thought then that I needed to deal with everything now too.

  So far, I haven’t. I’ve been pretending that I’m just a normal werewolf with a normal werewolf girlfriend.

  But nothing about my life is normal.

  By the moon, I don’t even have a normal werewolf girlfriend.

  Not that I would have it any other way. Bellanore is amazing. She’s perfect. Not just because she’s gorgeous. Because of her strength… Her intelligence… Her giggles…

  She deserves someone who can appreciate her, someone who can be there for her no matter what. Someone who her dad will approve of.

  There’s no way her dad would approve of me, not if I survive long enough to meet him because that would mean breaking the curse, and that her dad will not appreciate at all. In fact, her dad will most likely kill me, so it’s all a moot point.

  All of it.

  My relationship with Bellanore has to end.

  It never should’ve started in the first place.

  Why? Why did I cave? Why did I date her? Kiss her? Fall for her?

  Because I was lonely. She filled a void.

  No. That’s not it at all. Yes, of course I’m lonely. I have no pack, but that’s not why I wanted to spend time with her. She’s the reason I couldn’t just accept my fate. She’s the reason why I’ve put off trying to end the curse, and now, I don’t have the strength to.

  But I am going to try now. I am. For her. I don’t want to leave her. She means far too much to me.

  I’m selfish. So utterly selfish. I never should’ve gone after her, but I did, and now I need her. I n
eed her in my life. I need my life to not end as quickly as it’s going to.

  So, yes, I’ll die in the process of ending the curse. It’ll mean that I won’t have that peaceful death with Bellanore at my side, but I don’t deserve that anyhow.

  The curse won't claim me because I'll die on my terms. I'll fight to the bitter end. When I attacked the drow, I thought he would kill me too. I figured my life was over. I had nothing left to lose.

  But I did it. I killed her and earned my scar.

  A werewolf versus a drow is a much more evenly matched fight than a werewolf versus a demon. I have no idea what to expect except that I will lose. I’ll die. I’m certain of it.

  That won’t stop me. I’ll fight.

  I stand. My legs wobble a bit, my knees threatening to give out, but slowly, they stop shaking. I bend over and pick up the axe. My thumb runs down the blade, splitting my skin. A thick scarlet ribbon of blood leaks out, and I put my thumb in my mouth.

  The axe is heavy, heavier than I remember. Maybe it’s because I’m weaker.

  After taking two steps back, I swing a few times. The axe nearly causes me to lose my balance. Maybe it’s not a good idea.

  The bat feels much more familiar in my hand even though Rickard hardly ever threw a ball for me to hit. It swings through the air so hard that I can hear it. Yes, I’ll bring this, although honestly, what good will a bat do in a battle against a demon?

  The knives and daggers are all easy to use, and I start to attach them to my body. In my boots, up my sleeves, where they’ll be easy to reach and I won’t endanger myself when I grab them.

  The guns… the shotgun…

  The enormity of what I want to accomplish weighs me down, and I close the lid of the trunk and lean against it before slumping down and sitting on top. I won’t survive this. By the moon, I still don’t even know where the demon is that I would need to face to break the curse. I’m a mess. A complete and utter mess.

  Why am I not terrified out of my mind?

  Except I am. The thought of leaving Bellanore terrifies me.

  She’s my peace.

  She’s my pack.

  Maybe not in truth, but that’s how it feels. Without her, I have nothing.

  But I’m not nothing.

  I’m more than my curse.

  And I will die, yes, but I’ll die fighting rather than just giving up.

  Dad, the romantic, would’ve died alongside Mom, holding her hand. That actually is how they died.

  But that’s not me. I’m a fighter first, lover second.

  And maybe that’s wrong, but it’s right for me, and I will do this.

  I will fight the curse. In the end, it’ll break me, kill me, but I’ll fight it the best I can.

  Chapter 30

  Bellanore

  The sheer satisfaction that I feel at having at least stalled the growing conflict and animosity between the werewolves and vampires has me feeling like I’m walking on air. I’ve made a difference. I acted like an alpha, and the werewolves had no choice but to obey. Okay, they didn’t choose to listen to me, so that’s not being an alpha, but the end result is the same.

  The headmaster receives an anonymous tip after I spoke with the alpha of the Forge pack. The alpha actually listened to me, and I’m sure name-dropping my demon dad helped with that, but hey, a werewolf’s got to do what a werewolf’s got to do when it comes to keeping the peace. I might be part-demon, but I don’t want war. There’s enough anger for me to draw on if I want to without the need for war.

  Only after I spy the headmaster and a few professors head toward the spot do I teleport away. When I stand in front of my castle, a wave of dizziness washes over me. I’ve teleported far too many times, and I feel as weak and hopeless as I did the other day.

  Of course, that makes me think of Robb, and a slow smile spreads across my face. When I stood before Nia and the werewolves, there was a moment when I feared for my life, and now that I can reflect back on that, I see things so much clearer now. I’m willing to admit to myself that I don’t just have feelings for Robb.

  I love him.

  The only question is, do I tell him that?

  Why shouldn’t I? It’s the truth after all. Yes, we haven’t been dating that long, and yes, I wish he would open up to me more about his family, but I also understand that he needs time in order to sort through things. He needs to be able to come to terms with his loss. That can’t be an easy process, and there’s no time limit on grief.

  But maybe learning that someone else loves him will help. Honestly, I don't see how my telling him that I love him can hurt at all. The worst-case scenario is that he doesn't say it back, but after he wanted me to stay with him all night, there's no doubt in my mind that my declaration won't scare him away.

  In fact, his asking me to stay is almost his way of saying without words that he loves me.

  I'm too worn out to teleport to his room, so I walk there. The campus is like a ghost town. There are hardly any werewolves out and about, and that's all right by me. I've always liked to go for long walks at night, and I wish Robb was here beside me. It would be better to tell him under the light of the moon, I think. Yes, that would be perfect. If I didn't want to tell him right now, I would go and get a blanket, set up a picnic, maybe have some chocolate… I've been craving smores ever since Ellamaria mentioned them.

  But I shove all of that aside and march to his castle, this time entering through the front door. Several werewolves should live here, but I only sense one heartbeat, and it belongs to the heart I heard against my ear not that long ago.

  Robb.

  I grin to myself. At least we’ll have privacy.

  There’s a spiral staircase, and I climb it slowly, my hand on the railing. When I reach the top, I use my nose to lead me to his room. My knuckles knock against the smooth wood of his door.

  There’s a bit of rustling, and then Robb calls out, “Come in.”

  I suck in a deep breath and enter to find Robb sitting on a trunk at the foot of his bed. His face is a bit pale again. Maybe he hasn't recovered fully yet from the fight, but he should've by now. Why hasn't he?

  I swallow back my worries and shut the door behind me.

  “Bellanore,” he says, and his voice sounds pained.

  “Robb.” I can’t help but smile at the joy in my voice.

  His eyes soften. He has to hear it too.

  I hold out my hand, and he stands and takes it. We stand there, arm’s length apart, just staring. I should talk. Say what I came to say, but I just want to soak in this moment. He’s so handsome and brave and strong. He’s a werewolf through and through. Loyal to the point of fighting for me as if I’m his wife already.

  Did I really just think that?

  I mean, that’s crazy.

  His family is dead. Not his pack.

  But maybe… maybe his pack would be willing to take me in, considering my mom turned ours against me.

  The thought makes my heart skip a beat, and he squeezes my hand.

  “You look like you’re troubled,” Robb finally says.

  “No.” I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not troubled at all. The opposite in fact. I’m better than I’ve been in a long time, maybe forever.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Why’s that? What did you do?” he teases.

  “Oh!” I put my other hand to my chest. “I’m wounded! What makes you think I did something?”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, actually. I stopped Nia and a bunch of werewolves from sneaking off campus to go to Blood Haven. She had Mystic Twilight. She was supplying them all with it, but I spilled every last drop of it out of their cups. She didn’t have any more on her. I would’ve been able to smell it, and I might’ve made a mortal enemy of her because I ratted her out to her alpha and to the headmaster, but what she was doing can’t be allowed to stand.”

  “You took on a huge risk,” Robb says.

  “Are you upset that I did that?”

  “I just
wish you hadn’t done it alone.”

  I squeeze his hand. “I’m touched that you worry about me, but you need to trust me. I know my limits.”

  “Do you?”

  It’s a loaded question, and he knows it.

  “All right. Fine. I know my werewolf limits. I’m still working out my demonic ones.”

  “And how did you spill every last drop?”

  “By teleporting a lot.”

  “No wonder you look pale.” He tilts his head to the side. “Although your cheeks are a bit rosy.”

  I laugh and turn to the side.

  He cups my face and makes me look at him. “I do trust you,” he murmurs.

  My heart skips so many beats that I grow faint. “I trust you too.”

  Now. Now is the time.

  "Do you want anything to eat?" Robb asks before I have the chance to work up the nerve to tell him how I feel.

  “I want to talk to you,” I say slowly.

  “About what? What you want to eat?” he jokes.

  “No, about something more important than that.”

  "Really? Because I thought there aren't much more important things than chocolate."

  He squeezes my hand before releasing it and heading over to his desk. From the top drawer, he removes a candy bar.

  That werewolf really is too much.

  Robb crosses back over to me and pushes the candy bar into my hand. “You look like you need a pick-me-up.”

  “I don’t.”

  “The sugar will help maybe after using up so much energy.” He rocks back and forth on his heels.

  “Why are you being so insistent?” I ask suspiciously. “You don’t think I’m cranky, do you?”

  He chuckles. “No, Bellanore. I just got that candy bar for you. I want you to enjoy it.”

  I can’t deny him, and I unwrap the bar. The first bite of chocolatey nutty goodness has me closing my eyes and moaning.

  “You like, huh?” Robb asks smugly.

  I open my eyes. “Yes.”

  I hold it out, and he breaks off a piece, and we eat in silence. Once we’re done, I throw out the wrapper in the trashcan tucked under his desk before taking my original position and holding his hand again.