Chapter 24: Call His Name

When the clock in the corner of the armory finally struck ten, Blair’s relief was unfortunately overshadowed by a creeping, icy dread.

"Time," Professor Feron announced, closing his ledger with a sharp snap.

Blair dropped her polishing rag into the bucket. Her arms ached, and her fingers were stained black, but she barely registered the physical exhaustion. She wiped her hands on a towel, grabbed her canvas bag, and walked toward the iron doors at the front of the room.

She pushed one of the doors open, letting the cold night air spill into the sweltering armory.

Blair stopped dead on the threshold.

The campus was pitch-black. A thick, creeping fog had rolled in from the surrounding woods, swallowing the cobblestone paths and twisting the ancient oak trees into sinister, grasping silhouettes.

Every shadow looked like long, disjointed limbs. Every rustle of the wind sounded like the wet, clicking jaws of the eyeless monsters she had seen gorging themselves by the mansion.

Her feet felt like they had been cemented to the floorboards. She couldn’t move. Her heart began to hammer a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat as she stared out into the terrifying abyss of the campus.

Behind her, she heard the rustle of fabric. Jack had finished organizing his desk. He slipped his long, black wool coat on over his suit, picking up his leather briefcase. His polished shoes clicked rhythmically against the stone floor as he approached the exit.

He stopped a few feet behind her.

"How long do you plan to act as a barricade, Miss Willows?" Jack asked dryly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Blair jumped, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. She quickly stepped to the side, pressing her back against the doorframe to let him pass. But Jack didn’t walk out. He stood waiting.

"I’m, uh..." Blair offered a high, nervous chuckle, her eyes darting toward the foggy path. "I’m just going to stay here for a bit. Catch my breath."

"No, you are not," Jack shut her down instantly. "Students are strictly forbidden from remaining in the armory unsupervised. You are leaving. Now."

Blair’s shoulders slumped. "Oh."

She turned her head, staring back out into the freezing, foggy darkness. She swallowed hard, trying to force her legs to carry her forward, but her survival instincts were screaming at her to stay in the light.

Jack watched her tremble. A quiet sigh escaped his lips.

"If you are so paralyzed by the dark," Jack said, his tone dripping with bored condescension, "why don’t you simply ask the wolf who claimed you to come fetch you?"

Blair gasped, her head snapping up to look at him. Her eyes went wide with shock. Her hand instinctively flew to her neck, ensuring the scarf was still wrapped tightly around her throat.

"How did you know about that?" Blair whispered, her pulse racing.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Call his name," he instructed coldly.

Blair’s cheeks flushed a bright, cherry red.

If you are ever in trouble, Bunny, all you have to do is say my name. I’ll come running.

Daemus’s words echoed in her mind. It would be so easy. She just had to whisper his name.

But she hesitated.

Daemus was likely asleep. He probably has hockey practice early in the morning. And more importantly, this felt like an abuse of their fake mating contract. She wasn’t currently being attacked; she was just scared of the dark. Bothering a royal beastman over something so silly felt wrong.

Jack watched the internal conflict play out across her face.

"I shouldn’t be surprised," Jack sneered, his voice dropping into a cruel, mocking drawl.

Blair blinked, looking up at him in confusion.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time," Jack continued, looking her up and down with blatant disgust. "Like all the other human girls who scurry through these halls, you quickly realized that your supposed ’brain’ was useless here. I imagine you decided that spreading your legs for a royal was a much faster, easier method of survival."

The insult hit Blair like a physical blow.

The disrespect, the crude implication that she was just another dependent whore trading her body for a bodyguard, stung worse than any physical strike could have. The embarrassment morphed instantly into a hot, burning pride.

Blair lifted her chin. She dropped her hand from her scarf, her hands balling into tight fists at her sides.

"It isn’t like that," Blair said quietly, her voice trembling with suppressed anger.

She didn’t give him the chance to respond. Fueled by spite and the desperate need to prove that she wasn’t some helpless pet, Blair squared her shoulders, turned her back on the safety of the armory, and stepped out into the terrifying, pitch-black night alone.

The iron doors slammed shut behind her with a booming thud, cutting off the warm light of the fires and the sight of the Crow professor completely.

Blair marched down the cobblestone path, forcing herself not to look back. She kept her chin high, the burning sting of Jack’s insult keeping her anger boiling hotter than her fear. Spreading my legs. A dependent pet. The sheer audacity of his assumptions pushed her forward, her shoes squeaking loudly against the damp stones.

But as she walked further from the academic buildings, the anger began to rapidly fade, replaced by the freezing reality of her environment.

The path narrowed as it cut past the edge of the botanical gardens, surrounded by a dense grove of towering oak trees. The fog here was so thick she could barely see ten feet in front of her. The temperature plummeted, her breath pluming in small white clouds.

The silence was deafening.

Squish. Click.

Blair froze. The remaining anger drained from her body in an instant, replaced by a bucket of ice water. The sound came from the trees just to her right.

She slowly turned her head. "H-Hello?" she whispered, instantly cursing herself for sounding exactly like the first victim in a horror movie.

The fog swirled, thick and heavy.

A shape detached itself from the darkness of the tree trunks.

It stepped onto the path, its long, disjointed limbs bending at horrifying, unnatural angles. The sickly, ashen gray skin looked wet and slick in the faint moonlight. It had no eyes...

Blair couldn’t breathe. Her vocal cords were paralyzed.

The creature tilted its head. Its jaw unhinged with a wet pop.

A voice rasped out of its throat, forming a guttural word that didn’t sound remotely like English, or any language belonging to this world.

"Vra’kash."

Before she could even think to run, the creature lunged. It raised a long, spindly arm, extending four jagged, bone-white claws that gleamed in the dark, swiping directly toward her face.