Chapter 27: Chapter 28: Are they going to use me as a lab rat again?
What does this puppy want from me? I thought.
Thankfully, the professors intervened before Elion could unleash whatever clever, infuriating line was dancing on the tip of his tongue. A long, resonant horn blast sliced through the open field, sharp and commanding, shattering the charged air between us like fragile glass. The sound echoed across the grounds, pulling every scattered conversation to a halt and forcing hundred of eyes forward. The moment dissolved, leaving only the faint aftertaste of his grin and my simmering frustration.
My anger toward Elion hadn’t cooled, even if it’s not justified it’s still there. It bubbled low and restless beneath my skin, prickling like static electricity that refused to dissipate. I couldn’t even fully explain why it burned so hot. He had a life, a real one, full of freedom and laughter and choices that didn’t come wrapped in chains. He moved through the world with effortless confidence, unbothered by the constant weight I carried: the fear of being discovered, the dread of punishment for simply breathing wrong, the endless survival mode that had become my normal. I envied that ease. I resented it. And yet, some stupid, traitorous part of me was drawn to it like a moth to flame.
All I’d ever wanted was something simple... someone who could look past the cursed blood running through my veins, past the humiliating label of being wolfless, past every scar the world had etched into my soul. I wanted love that was mine alone.
Not shared.
Not diluted.
Not handed out like a communal prize to whoever caught his eye next. I refused to be another stop on some arrogant playboy’s endless parade. I wasn’t interested in being anyone’s "next target" or temporary fascination.
"Why are you on my tail?" I snapped, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice as I kept walking.
"I wasn’t," Elion replied smoothly, falling into step beside me anyway, hands casually tucked into his pockets. "But if you want me to follow you around like a lost puppy, I don’t mind at all. Just say the word."
I shot him a glare that could have curdled milk, but he only flashed that infuriatingly wide smile, eyes sparkling with pure amusement. My irritation seemed to fuel him rather than deter him, like poking a sleeping dragon and discovering it enjoyed the attention.
I reached Liora at last. She was already deep in quiet conversation with another girl, their heads bent close, voices hushed. I didn’t strain to eavesdrop. Although Liora and I are friends, even friendships demanded boundaries; too much shared knowledge became ammunition in the wrong hands. Privacy was a luxury we guarded fiercely.
"We’re grateful for all of you who survived to this round," Ysara announced from the raised platform, her smile radiant and perfectly rehearsed, as though this were a joyous milestone rather than a grim roll call of the living.
Maybe it was, in a twisted way. We were still breathing. Still standing. But that breath had cost others dearly, friends dragged screaming to Morvalis for "re-education," bodies left cold and silent in the training arenas, names erased from the roster as if they’d never existed.
"Even if someone’s recklessness cost us several powerful individuals," Irene interjected, her voice ice-cold and deliberate. Her gaze locked onto me like a predator sighting prey. "Leaving us saddled with yet another liability."
The words landed like a slap, but this time I didn’t flinch. I didn’t rise to the bait. I’d learned long ago that reacting only fed her cruelty. Let her hate me in silence or loudly; I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing it hurt.
"So today," Mr. Evander Nightfen continued, his deep, commanding voice rolling over the field like distant thunder, "you will select your groups."
A ripple of nods passed through the crowd, almost automatic. By now, I knew most of their names, dangerous knowledge in a place where familiarity bred vulnerability. Mr. Nightfen was a pure-blooded werewolf, broad-shouldered and unyielding, his presence alone enough to silence rowdy students.
"This academy recognizes seven official groups," Mrs. Selene Hollow added. Half-witch, half-vampire, her aura was sharp and inscrutable, like a blade hidden in silk.
"Green, White, Black, Gold, Red, Grey, and Blue," Mr. Caelia Patrick supplied, his tone clipped and precise. Another hybrid, half-vampire, half-witch, whose calm demeanor never quite hid the calculation beneath.
"You will each choose a color," Mr. Kaelen stated flatly. Pure vampire, arrogance radiating from him like expensive cologne. No one knew his last name. I didn’t care to find out. Knowing too much was how people ended up dead, and I wasn’t in a position to afford curiosity.
"Seven members per group," Asher noted casually from the side.
I learned he was half-vampire, half-werewolf. Which meant Ashriel likely was too, if they shared blood. I wasn’t sure. And I wasn’t asking.
"What color are you going for?" Liora whispered, leaning close as the professors murmured among themselves.
I actually paused to consider it. For once, the question didn’t feel trivial.
I’ve never really had the luxury of a favorite color.
Then, after a beat: "I think... Blue."
"Why Blue?" she asked, tilting her head with genuine curiosity. "Is it your best shade or something?"
"Nope." I shrugged. "It just has different shades. Layers. It changes depending on the light."
It sounded vague, almost nonsensical even to my own ears, but it felt right in a way I couldn’t explain.
"Green has plenty of shades too," Elion chimed in from my other side, voice low and teasing. He leaned in just enough that I caught the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to him.
I turned and met his gaze, slow, deliberate, pulling like gravity. He was trying to reel me in again, and damn him for making it feel effortless.
"I didn’t ask for your opinion," I said coolly.
"But you needed it," he countered with that signature grin. "So I gave it freely. You’re welcome, ingrate.... If you’d picked Green, you could’ve said it’s the color of nature, growth, all that poetic nonsense."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to Liora, pointedly ignoring him as if he’d vanished into thin air.
"What about you?" I asked her with a small smile.
"Red," she answered without hesitation. Then, quieter: "It’s beautiful. And blood doesn’t show as easily on it."
A dark, practical logic. Fitting for this place.
"At least someone picked with an actual reason," Elion muttered under his breath.
I refused to dignify that with a response, but the words sparked a belated flash of regret. I should have said Blue was the color of the sky... limitless, unreachable, free. Something poetic. Instead, I’d stumbled into half-baked vagueness.
Dimwit, I scolded myself silently, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
I was still mentally kicking myself when Ysara’s voice rang out again, clear and cutting through the murmurs.
"Nyx Vaeloria... step forward."
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them. The world narrowed to a pinpoint... every sound muffled, every face blurring except the professors’ expectant stares.
For one frozen, terrifying second, a single thought consumed me entirely.
Are they going to use me as a lab rat again?
