Chapter 25
*Jiselle*
“That hurt like a bitch,” I winced as I rubbed my eyes, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the canopy above. My body ached, my limbs felt heavy, and the chill of the place was too familiar.
I knew this place.
The same forest where we had our first Fitness and Combat assignment.
Great. I was just telling Ethan about the coursework challenge, and now I was living it. But did they really have to drug me?
I pushed myself up and looked around, half–expecting to see Ethan, but instead, I saw four other first–years, five second–years, five third–years–including Max, thank the moon goddess–and five fourth–years.
blinked, realizing I was comfortably nestled in a bed of leaves, as if someone had placed me there. My stomach twisted. Max.
I was the last to wake up, it seemed–embarrassingly so–and Max was talking to a guy who looked eerily like him, but there was something crueler about his features, something sharper. I had never met him, but I knew who he was. Eric Laker.
Max’s and Eva’s other brother. He was in third–year, too like Max.
Max must have noticed me shifting, because he instantly dismissed Eric and turned to me. I stiffened at the look Eric shot me over his shoulder, like I was some kind of meal.
Max, probably knowing his brother too, well, threw a glare in his direction. Eric smirked and retreated with his hands raised.
“I’ll back off,” he teased, his tone mocking, his gaze still lingering too long. “Just saying, if she liked one twin, maybe she’d like the next.”
I gaped at Max as he stooped in front of me, his hand cupping my cheek before pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
“You’re a twin?” I asked, stunned. How did I not know this?
“Unfortunately,” Max said with an annoyed eye–roll. “Paternal twins. Sorry if you feel cheated out of any information about me. I never thought it was important.” He looked genuinely sorry.
“It’s okay,” I said, shaking my head. I understood. It’s not like we spoke about his family much.
I looked around, noticing that everyone had split into their respective years. “Do you have any idea what this assignment is? Am I the one holding you guys up? Why didn’t you wake me?”
He chuckled as we stood. “Don’t worry, we’re still waiting on the instructors who will
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be accompanying us.”
Relief settled in my chest. At least that meant it wouldn’t be some brutal assignment like the one I had been forced into with Nate.
“Okay.” I sighed, stretching my stiff limbs. “I’m just glad I was put in a group with you.”
Max smirked. “I saw them taking you and demanded to go with this group.”
I raised a brow. “And they actually let you?”
“To Morningstar’s dismay,” he added with a wicked grin.
I froze. “Nate was in this group?”
“Yeah. The instructors gave me a hard time, but eventually Nathaniel relented and said it didn’t matter.”
Right. Because I didn’t matter.
“Wait, you guys weren’t drugged?”
“Only first–years,” he said. “It’s part of the activity.”
I rubbed my temple, willing the headache to fade. “I thought this was for Training and Combat.”
“It’s an advanced course you won’t fully be introduced to until next year.”
“So why am I doing it? How is it worth 30% of our grade?”
Max exhaled. “First–years stay alive long enough to earn that thirty percent.” He shrugged. “Not that it’s worth it.”
I snorted as three instructors stepped into view. One I didn’t know well–Instructor Callan. Another was Instructor Viera, my Pack Landscaping teacher. And the third was Instructor Havelyn, the man who taught Night Navigation who was still only taught to
men. Sexist–ass school.
Instructor Callan stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the assembled students before settling on us with the same detached authority I had come to expect from most of the faculty.
“Unlike your Fitness and Combat activity,” he began, “where you were required to engage in battle at some point–regardless of whether you realized that was the actual objective–this assignment focuses on something different.”
I swallowed. So the point of the claw challenge wasn’t the claws at all? It was forcing us into combat?
This is Strategic Evasion and Survival Tactics,” Callan continued, hands clasped behind his back. “As the name suggests, this is about navigating, evading, and outlasting–not brute force. Your goal is to make it back to campus using only your instincts, teamwork, and the environment around you. No shifting. No modern tools.”
A few students groaned, and I couldn’t blame them. No shifting? That meant running
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miles back to campus on foot.
“There will be obstacles along the way, both environmental and strategic. You’ll be graded based on how effectively you navigate those obstacles, how well you work within your assigned groups, and how quickly you reach campus. The first–years have been placed in mixed–year teams for this purpose–observe, learn, and survive.”
I glanced around at the others, watching them take in the information. Max shot me a look.
“Unlike Fitness and Combat, where strength and fighting ability determine success, this course prioritizes intelligence, adaptability, and the ability to avoid unnecessary conflict. Sometimes survival means knowing when not to fight.”
Callan’s gaze flickered to Max and Nate, and I swore I saw something knowing pass through his expression.
“Stay aware,” he added. “And remember, the instructors will be monitoring, but they will not intervene unless absolutely necessary. This is your test. Your survival. Your responsibility.”
A sharp gust of wind rustled the trees as the weight of his words settled over us.
Max shifted closer to me. “Stay close,” he murmured.
I nodded.
The instructors disappeared, but Max assured me they weren’t far away. At least I didn‘ t have to focus on fighting.
We moved forward, the branches crunching underfoot, the cold air brushing against my skin as we walked, I was about to ask how long this would take when Max gently pulled me aside.
“Hey,” he murmured, his tone more serious than before. “I need to talk to you about something.”
I frowned. “What is it?”
He hesitated, then looked around before holding me back, letting the group move ahead slightly.
“I can’t tell you much…” He exhaled sharply. “But I think you’re changing.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s impressive and terrifying at the same time,” he admitted. “We’re not even in the second semester yet. It’s not supposed to happen until third semester.”
I tensed. “Max, what are you talking about?”
are yo
His lips pressed into a thin line.
“I don’t know exactly, because I’ve never seen it here before. But if I’m right, you might be in danger.”
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“Danger from what?” I asked as I suppressed a shiver.
He clenched his jaw. “I noticed you did it twice before. But you might have done it even earlier without realizing.”
“Did what?” I demanded.
He hesitated before lowering his voice. “You did it this morning, when we were having sex.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did what?” I asked again, firmer this time.
His palm twitched, and he hissed through his teeth, gripping where I knew his blood oath scar was.
“I can’t tell you,” he bit out, like the words were physically painful.
I grabbed his wrist. “Max-”
“Look, Jiselle,” he interrupted, his expression deadly serious. “If I’m right and you’re changing, you need to promise me that you won’t shift until I figure out how to keep you safe.”
My eyes widened. “Max, we’re about to start wolf–to–wolf combat next week! How can I not shift?”
His grip tightened. “Find a way, Jiselle. Please. For your life’s sake.”
A lump formed in my throat. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not the one you should be afraid of,” he said quietly. “I might be powerful, but I’m not invincible. If they know… there’s nothing I can do to stop them.”
From killing me. It was the only logical conclusion. That’s why he was risking everything telling me this. That’s why he was scared. Max was never scared.
Of anything.
I trembled. “Max… why? What am I changing into?”
His lips parted, but no words came.
“When was the other time you noticed me doing it?” I whispered and his jaw tensed.
I
were
“When Morningstar and I fighting, you screamed at us to stop–and we almost did.” He met my gaze. “But then you ordered Bastian to call the match… and he did.”
I shook my head. “No, he did that because he saw it was getting out of hand.”
“No. Bastian always lets us go to our limit before calling a draw. He wouldn’t have called it–unless you told him to.”
My breath caught. “So… I can make people do things?”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Max urged. “And don’t try to do it again on purpose. My guess is it happens in emotionally tense situations, or when you’re emotionally
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stimulated.”
My head spun. Was this the big academy secret?
“You don’t seem surprised only worried. Does it happen to every wolf?” I asked but I gasped as I noticed Max’s palm bleeding.
“Stop! Don’t tell me anything else,” I begged. His scar was bleeding… bleeding all because he told me so much.
He nodded but still looked conflicted as he avoided the wound. But if Max risked his life telling me this much, then I had no choice.
I had to find a way to ensure I didn’t shift next week.
Because if Max was this worried… shifting might be the very thing that gets me killed.
