CHAPTER 63: BLOCKED CHANNELS

{Elira}

~**^**~

The office was warm, softly lit by a golden lamp on the professor’s desk.

A delicate scent of dried herbs lingered in the air, mixing with the sharper tang of ink and aged paper.

Professor Mira looked up from a stack of books, her silver-framed reading glasses resting low on her nose.

She blinked at us, then her eyes settled on me.

"This is Elira Shaw," Lennon said gently. "The student who wasn’t able to... during the power channelling class."

Professor Mira’s expression didn’t change, but her gaze sharpened. "Yes," she murmured. "I remember you."

I swallowed and looked down at the floor. My heart had started pounding again, each thud a reminder of the earlier humiliation.

Professor Mira straightened in her seat. "What kind of help do you need?" she asked, now turning to Lennon.

"If you have some time now," Lennon replied, "I’d appreciate it if you could examine her channels—see if there’s a reason why her abilities haven’t emerged."

A thoughtful hum escaped the professor’s lips. "I have a little time," she said. "Enough for that."

Then she stood from her seat, graceful but firm. "Ms. Shaw," she said, turning to me with a mild smile, "take off your jacket, roll up your sleeves, and have a seat here."

I nodded quickly, already fumbling with the buttons of my jacket. My fingers felt clumsy. Nervous energy buzzed through me as I slid the jacket off and began rolling up the sleeves of my shirt.

Without a word, Lennon stepped forward and gently took the jacket and my backpack from my hands. Our fingers brushed briefly.

I sank into the seat the professor gestured to and rested my hands on my lap. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Professor Mira stood over me, her fingers cool and sure as they found the pressure points along my arms.

She pressed softly on my wrist, then my forearm, then a spot just under my collarbone.

She worked in silence, only occasionally pausing to study my face or reposition my arm. I didn’t know what she was looking for—only that something inside me twisted with each passing second.

’Please,’ I begged in my head. ’Please don’t say I’m empty.’

Finally, she pulled back and looked at me with a glint of something—curiosity, maybe even mild surprise—in her eyes.

"You have supernatural potential," she said simply.

My breath caught.

For a moment, the words didn’t even register. But then they sank in like sunlight through a window. I wasn’t empty. I wasn’t nothing.

A shaky breath escaped me, and I clutched the edges of the seat. I felt my eyes sting again—but this time, with relief. I almost cried, but I held it in. Just barely.

From beside me, Lennon asked, "Then why hasn’t she been able to access it?"

Professor Mira turned to him, her tone more serious now. "Because her channels are blocked."

I stilled again.

Professor Mira folded her arms. "And what’s unusual," she added slowly, "is that she wasn’t born this way."

I stared at her, confusion rushing in fast. "Then... what does that mean?"

Professor Mira’s gaze shifted to me. "It means someone—or something—blocked your natural flow of energy. Your channels are sealed off. That’s why your wolf is silent, and why your powers won’t respond."

My thoughts spiralled.

Even Professor Mira could tell my wolf was silent.

But who would do this to me?

Why would they do that?

Professor Mira continued, now addressing Lennon. "It’s not in my scope to undo something like this. But a specialist could determine the method used... and potentially unlock her abilities."

Lennon gave a slow, understanding nod. "I see."

Just as he opened his mouth to thank her, Professor Mira tilted her head at him curiously. "Forgive me, Professor Lennon... but what’s your relationship to Ms. Shaw?"

I stiffened in my seat. The question sliced the air open like a blade.

I looked to Lennon, suddenly aware of how warm my face had gotten. Professor Mira’s question shouldn’t have unsettled me, but for some reason... it did.

Lennon, as calm and composed as ever, offered a faint smile. "She’s a student under my care."

Professor Mira studied him a second longer, then nodded. "In that case, you have the access—and the influence—to bring in the right person to help her."

"I will see to it," Lennon replied.

Professor Mira turned back to me. "In the meantime, don’t lose hope, Ms. Shaw. You’re not broken—only paused. So, good luck."

I could have hugged her for those words.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Lennon stepped toward me again, handing back my backpack while I stood and unrolled the sleeves of my shirt. The quiet warmth in his gaze soothed the last flickers of panic still swirling inside me.

"Let’s go," he said softly.

And together, we left Professor Mira’s office—my heart lighter than it had been all day.

But just as Lennon and I made a turn down the hallway lined with staff offices, Rennon’s familiar silhouette caught my eye, standing in front of the door to his office.

I almost stopped in my steps as my gaze took him in once again.

I hadn’t expected to see him so soon. I thought his meeting would last longer.

Rennon wore his usual calm expression, a pair of thin-framed glasses perched perfectly over his nose, the soft amber glow from the window casting faint shadows across his features.

He hadn’t seen us yet, but that changed when Lennon called out to him, "Rennon."

At once, Rennon turned—and the subtle jolt in his shoulders didn’t go unnoticed by me.

He was surprised. He probably wasn’t expecting to see me.

"Hey," Lennon greeted as we walked up to him. "Busy?"

Rennon was quiet for a moment, his gaze zeroing in on my face. Then his eyes narrowed behind the lenses, his brows subtly pinched.

"Why did you cry?" he asked, the question direct and without any pretence.

I blinked. "I—" I started, caught completely off guard. "I didn’t—"

"She did," Lennon answered for me, not unkindly. "Let’s go inside. I will explain."

Without another word, Rennon turned back to the door, inserted the key and pushed it open.

The scent of books and citrus cleaner drifted out.