CHAPTER 32: CHAPTER 32: UNFAIR

After finishing his meal in the warm bustle of the kitchen, Aiden lingered only for a moment. Already, through the thick doors, he could hear the faint swell of voices from the dining hall. The other students were filing in for breakfast, their laughter and clamor rising like a tide. Aiden stiffened. He didn’t need anyone spotting him slipping out of the kitchen, not after the humiliations he’d suffered since arriving at Skyline Academy.

Remembering the backdoor the head chef had shown him earlier, he quickly excused himself. The old man gave him a silent nod, as if to reassure him that he was always welcome to return. Pushing the door open, Aiden slipped out into the quiet passage beyond, grateful for the escape.

Today’s schedule, he already knew, was lighter in one way but heavier in another. He only have wolf-related classes today. There would be no Fae lectures, no potion brewing with the witches. He sighed as he made his way across the vast campus toward the wolf building.

When he stepped inside, the familiar strangeness of the place hit him all over again. It still didn’t fail to unsettle him. The classroom wasn’t really a classroom—it was a forest sealed within four walls. Towering trees stretched toward a ceiling painted with false skies, birds flitted overhead, and the ground beneath his shoes was real soil, soft and uneven. The first time he’d walked in which was yesterday, he’d thought he’d gotten lost outdoors. Even now, he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the sight.

Glancing around, Aiden realized he was the first to arrive. No surprise there. He’d risen early and skipped the dining hall, while the other students were only now crowding in for food. For once, being early didn’t make him anxious. At least in this empty room, no one was whispering about him.

Not wanting to waste time, Aiden settled onto a flat rock and closed his eyes. He had promised himself he wouldn’t give up. Everyone he’d spoken to so far—the head chef, Langley, even the stern instructor—had told him not to lose hope, to keep trying to feel the wolf inside him. If they could believe in him, then surely he could try to believe in himself.

So he focused. He tried to reach inward, to sense some presence, some stir of power or instinct. Anything.

One by one, the other students began to trickle in. Aiden heard the shuffle of their boots, the snickers, the low whispers that spread like fire through dry grass. He could feel eyes burning into his back, mocking, questioning, but he refused to open his own. He shut it all out. For once, he wasn’t going to let their stares break him.

It was only when a deep, booming voice filled the forest-room that Aiden finally opened his eyes.

"Another day, another chance to prove yourselves," Mr. John, their wolf instructor, announced. His tone was gruff, filled with barely restrained disappointment. "Yesterday’s training was a disgrace. You all failed—woefully. Which means we are repeating the exercise today."

A groan rippled through the class.

Mr. John’s gaze swept over them like a hawk eyeing prey. "The next lesson you will receive depends entirely on how well you can use your noses. But if your performance continues like yesterday’s, I assure you this is the only thing you’ll be learning all semester." His voice rose, echoing across the artificial forest. "Do you want your set to go down in Skyline Academy history as the worst in living memory? Because that is where you’re headed."

Silence followed, heavy and uneasy.

"Out of thirty-two chicken-blood-stained bandages hidden in this very forest, you found only six. Six!" He spat the word like it tasted foul. "An embarrassment. And I promised you a punishment if you failed. Well—your punishment is ready."

He clapped his massive hands, the sound cracking like thunder.

From the far side of the room, students began to file in—older students, each dragging a wheelbarrow. Inside each was a massive rock, so large they looked as though they belonged in a quarry, not a classroom. Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow entered, until eighteen enormous stones sat in a line.

Aiden’s stomach dropped.

He stared at the rocks, then at Mr. John. This has to be a joke, he thought desperately. There was no way anyone could expect him—or anyone else—to carry those things. If he even tried, the rock would crush him in an instant.

But as he glanced around, he realized none of the other students looked shocked. They were frowning, grumbling, glaring at the punishment—but not horrified like he was. Clearly, they’d seen punishments like this before.

"You will carry these rocks for two hours," Mr. John declared coldly. "After that, you will repeat yesterday’s exercise. Perhaps your aching muscles will finally convince your noses to work."

The class erupted in mutters and curses. Aiden’s horror only deepened. He couldn’t carry one of those boulders for two seconds, let alone two hours.

Mr. John’s sharp eyes fell on him then. "Aiden," he barked, "why do you look as if you’re about to keel over and join the ghosts?"

Aiden swallowed hard. "Mr. John... are we really carrying those? I’m pretty sure one of them could crush me to death."

A few students snickered, but Mr. John only crossed his arms. "I wasn’t expecting you to carry one anyway. You still haven’t managed to sense your wolf, which means you don’t have the strength of the others. And since you didn’t participate in yesterday’s trial, you’re not required to join the punishment either."

Relief washed over Aiden, his shoulders slumping. For once, being different felt like a blessing.

But the relief didn’t last.

Across the room, a student raised his hand. Mr. John nodded at him curtly. "Speak, Carl."

The boy stepped forward, his eyes flashing with resentment. "Mr. John, don’t you think this is unfair? Yesterday Aiden didn’t participate. Today he won’t either. What’s the point of his so-called high blood potential if he never has to do anything? We suffer the training, we endure the punishments, and he just stands there. If that’s what it means to be a student, then maybe he should just apply to be a spectator instead, since that’s all he ever does."

The class stirred. Aiden’s heart sank.

Mr. John’s frown deepened. "And what exactly would you have him do, Carl? Should I send him searching for bandages he cannot possibly smell? Or perhaps set him to lifting a stone that would kill him on the spot? You call that fair?"

Carl crossed his arms stubbornly. "I just think he doesn’t belong here. If he can’t even feel his wolf, why stay? He should leave the academy."

"He stays," Mr. John snapped. "Because his potential test revealed three high bloodlines. This is where he belongs."

Carl’s lip curled. "That’s only because he cheated."

A hush fell over the class. Aiden’s stomach twisted.

Mr. John’s head whipped toward Carl, his expression darkening. Then he laughed, but it was a menacing laugh that made the hairs on Aiden’s arms stand on end. "Cheated, you say? And tell me, Carl—where did you hear this nonsense?"

"That’s what everyone in the school says," Carl muttered, his bravado flickering. "That he cheated to get those results. To make it look like he has the blood of all three races."

"And you know how one could cheat such a test?" Mr. John pressed, stepping closer, his towering frame radiating threat. "Because if there’s a trick, Carl, I’d like to use it myself. So why don’t you enlighten me?"

Carl faltered, fear flashing in his eyes, but he still held his ground. "Ask Aiden. He’s the one who cheated."

Aiden flinched as the words landed like blows. He’d already endured whispers, glares, endless doubts. But hearing it said aloud, in front of everyone, tore at something inside him. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

Mr. John’s stance grew even more intimidating, and Aiden could see this was about to spiral out of control. He couldn’t let it.

Taking a shaky breath, he stepped between them. "It’s okay," he said quickly, forcing the words out despite the lump in his throat. "Mr. John, Carl... I’ll do the training with the rest of the class."

Mr. John’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. "And how exactly do you propose to do that without your wolf?"

"Like Carl said, I’m still a student. I can’t keep standing aside while everyone else works. Maybe if I push myself hard enough, the pressure will help me bring my wolf out."

The class stared at him. Even Carl looked stunned.

Mr. John barked out a short laugh. "You think you can carry these rocks? Boy, one of them would flatten you before you took two steps."

Aiden looked back at the line of stones, his pulse hammering. He couldn’t even imagine lifting one, much less hauling it for hours. But he couldn’t back down now. "Then... divide one into six pieces," he suggested, his voice steadier than he felt. "One of those pieces would still be heavy enough for any grown man to struggle with. I’ll carry that. That way my classmates don’t have to complain that I’m not doing anything, and I won’t die trying."

The class erupted into murmurs. For the first time, some of the students seemed satisfied. Mr. John glanced around, taking in their expressions. He could see it too—most of them had been holding resentment toward Aiden, just too timid to voice it.

Finally, the instructor nodded. "Very well. I’ll split the rock. You’ll carry one of the six. Does anyone object?"

Heads shook all around. Even Carl had no more to say.

"Then it’s decided," Mr. John announced.