CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27: WOLF CLASS

Aiden walked slowly across the sprawling grounds of Skyline Academy, his badge glowing faintly in his palm. The enchanted badge pulsed like a compass, pulling him toward his destination with a subtle tug. Every time he thought about where he needed to go, the badge flared brighter, its light humming warmly against his skin. Whenever he veered off, the glow dimmed, warning him of a wrong turn. It was reliable, precise, and yet Aiden couldn’t help but feel a nervous twist in his stomach as it guided him toward the building that held the wolf classes.

He had not forgotten the humiliation of the Fae class earlier. His classmates had conjured their fire effortlessly while he stood empty-handed, unable to summon even a spark. Now, as he followed the glowing pull of his badge, he prayed quietly under his breath.

"Please," he whispered, clutching the badge tightly. "Please don’t let this be like the Fae class. Please don’t let me be ordinary again."

When the glow brightened in confirmation of the right door, Aiden paused. The tall stone structure loomed above him, cold and imposing. He stood before it for a moment, his heart hammering, his lips moving in silent prayer. Only after forcing himself to take a deep breath did he finally push the door open.

What he stepped into, however, was not a classroom.

Aiden froze at the threshold. He had expected desks, chairs, chalkboards, or at the very least a hall like the Fae class. Instead, he stood in the middle of a forest. Sunlight poured through branches overhead, the air damp and rich with the scent of pine. Leaves rustled beneath his boots, and birdsong echoed faintly in the distance. The air was alive in a way no classroom should ever be.

His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he turned his head back. The doorway he had walked through still stood behind him, framed by the rough bark of trees, but beyond it was the academy hall he had come from. A portal. Somehow, a simple door had delivered him into an entirely different world.

"How?" he muttered under his breath.

A voice behind him answered. "You must be a student. Judging by your surprise, I would guess you are new. Which means you must be Aiden."

Aiden whipped around. A man stood a few paces away, tall but not towering, his build lean and unthreatening. His face was pleasant, though not remarkable. After being surrounded by godlike beauty for days—Ryker’s sharp perfection, Zane’s dazzling features, Julian’s celestial aura—this man looked... ordinary. Ordinary in the kind of way that made him human.

Aiden blinked at him. "Sorry, who are you?"

The man smiled politely. "My name is John. I am one of the teachers assigned to guide this year’s wolf freshmen. Half of them, at least."

"Oh." Aiden relaxed a little. He had already learned that every race’s incoming students were divided into two groups because of their overwhelming numbers. That explained why he had not seen Ashton, his Fae acquaintance, in his earlier class.

"It’s nice to meet you, Mr. John," Aiden said. "I’m Aiden."

"I figured as much," John replied with a small nod. He gestured with his hand. "Your classmates are already gathered. Please join them so we can begin."

Only then did Aiden notice the group. Hidden among the trees, sitting in a wide circle, were other students. Their quiet chatter blended into the forest until John pointed them out. Embarrassed at his own lack of awareness, Aiden walked quickly to them and lowered himself onto the ground beside a boy whose looks barely nudged past average.

As he settled in, Aiden realized how different wolves were from Faes. There were no desks, no strict rows, no formality. The teacher himself sat cross-legged on the earth, the students forming a circle around him as though they were a pack gathering around their alpha. It felt primal, unrefined, and strangely fitting.

"Now," Mr. John began once Aiden had joined, "let’s start today’s lecture." His eyes scanned the circle. "I hope that apart from Aiden, everyone has already achieved their wolf form at sixteen. If anyone else has not, raise your hand."

Silence followed. No hand rose.

Confusion creased Aiden’s brow. He had no idea what John was talking about. His uncertainty must have been obvious, because the teacher’s gaze softened as he explained.

"Normally, those born with wolf blood experience their first transformation at sixteen," John said. "At that age, their bodies are strong enough to withstand the pain of bone shifting. It is a painful rite, but one every wolf must endure." His eyes lingered on Aiden. "You, however, are seventeen. And still nothing."

Heat crept up Aiden’s neck. Once again, he was the odd one out. His prayers had gone unanswered. Just like in the Fae class, he was different, abnormal, standing on the outside while everyone else belonged.

He clenched his fists on his knees. Maybe, just maybe, by the end of this lesson, something would change.

John continued, "Today’s exercise will be simple. In this forest are thirty-two bandages, each stained with chicken blood. Your task is to sniff them out. Whoever collects the most will be the winner and will receive a reward from the school."

The students murmured in interest.

John raised a finger. "You may only use your nose. This training is important. One day, if someone close to you is injured and lost, you must be able to track them by scent alone. The lowest performer will face punishment. Do not think you can slack. And do not cheat. If you do, I will know."

His voice hardened, echoing with authority. "Bring all thirty-two bandages back here within two hours. If you fail, the class will repeat the exercise until the total is reached. But be warned—the last student will face the harshest punishment, while the top student will still earn their reward. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the class chorused.

"Good. Your time begins now."

In an instant, the students surged to their feet. Within seconds, they had vanished into the forest, swift as shadows. One moment they were there, the next they were gone, leaving Aiden alone in the clearing.

He stood frozen. He had no idea how to sniff out chicken blood in a forest this vast. He took a hesitant step forward, then another, deciding to simply wander until he figured something out.

"And where do you think you are going, Aiden?"

The teacher’s voice stopped him.

Aiden turned back, sheepish. "To... take part in the training?"

John raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Aiden’s shoulders slumped. "I... don’t know."

The teacher’s lips curved into a small smile. "Do not look so defeated. You cannot take part in this training yet. Without your wolf, you lack the speed, the heightened senses, the instincts. Competing now would only frustrate you."

Aiden’s voice cracked. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"First," John said firmly, "you must call your wolf. That is the most important thing."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Aiden asked, desperation creeping into his tone.

"It is simple in theory," John explained. "You must concentrate. Your wolf is already inside you, waiting to be acknowledged. Now that you know of your bloodlines, you can reach for it. If you listen carefully, you will feel it calling out to you. All you must do is accept."

Aiden groaned softly. "Not the concentrating thing again..."

The teacher tilted his head. "Why do you sound so disheartened?"

Aiden sighed and confessed everything—how in Fae class he had concentrated as instructed, reached deep into himself, and still failed to conjure even a flicker of fire.

John chuckled after hearing the story. "Perhaps your blood does not lean toward the Fae side. Two centuries ago, that female student like you that entered this academy. Her bloodlines were mixed as well like she also have three high bloodlines, bloodlines of the three races in this school, well I think you should’ve known about that already, what I’m trying to say is her power leaned entirely toward the witch bloodline. She never conjured fire, never called a wolf. Her magic was purely witchcraft. The other bloodlines faded in her, anchoring and strengthening what remained."

Understanding dawned on Aiden. "So... it’s possible my power just doesn’t lean toward the Faes."

"Exactly," John said. "Which is why you should not despair. Now, try again. Concentrate. Feel for your wolf. Listen for its call."

Aiden nodded reluctantly. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus. He blocked out the rustling of the forest, the scent of pine, the faint echo of his classmates somewhere in the distance. He searched within himself, deeper and deeper, for something. For a pull, a voice, a spark of instinct. Anything.

Minutes crawled by. His jaw tightened. Sweat prickled his forehead. He felt nothing. Nothing at all.

Finally, he opened his eyes, shoulders sagging. "I can’t feel anything calling out to me," he admitted quietly.