Chapter 25: Then She Died

Blair squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the claws.

It never came.

Instead, a rush of air hit her face, followed by the sound of a violent collision. Blair gasped, peeking one eye open.

A wall of black feathers was spread wide in front of her.

Professor Feron stood between her and the monster.

The monster hissed and scrambled away, its disjointed limbs carrying it quickly back into the dense woods.

Silence rushed back into the foggy clearing.

Jack stood perfectly still for a moment, his broad back facing her. Slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at her. His normally piercing, blood-red eyes looked dull and unfocused.

Then, without a word, the terrifying Crow professor collapsed, hitting the cobblestones with a lifeless thud.

"Professor!" Blair shrieked, the paralysis of fear instantly breaking.

She threw herself onto the ground next to him. Panic gripped her throat as she took in the damage. His black suit was shredded. Four deep, jagged claw marks tore diagonally across his chest.

There was a lot of blood, but what made Blair’s stomach drop was the color of it. A strange, blackish-purple venom was seeping into the deep gashes, burning the edges of the wounds. The monster’s claws had been poisoned.

"Oh god, oh god," Blair babbled frantically.

She ripped the scarf off her neck and pressed it firmly against Jack’s chest, trying to stem the bleeding, but he was far too heavy for her to lift. She couldn’t carry him, and they couldn’t stay out here in the open. The monster could come back.

She needed help.

If you are ever in trouble, Bunny, all you have to do is say my name.

"Daemus," Blair yelled into the dark. "Daemus!"

A heavy thud shook the ground nearby, followed by the sound of a low growl. The fog swirled as Daemus crashed onto the path.

True to his word, he had come running. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose gray sweatpants, his dark hair a messy bedhead. His hands were elongated into claws as he scanned the area for the threat.

He stopped dead, his claws retracting instantly as he took in the scene.

"Blair? What the hell—" Daemus started, utterly stunned to see her covered in blood, kneeling on the ground and cradling the unconscious body of the academy’s most feared professor.

"Help me!" Blair begged, cutting off the hundred questions she could see forming in his eyes. "He’s poisoned! The monster got him. We have to get him inside, now!"

Daemus didn’t hesitate. He crossed the distance in two long strides, his wolf strength easily hefting the heavy Crow professor over his broad shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Lead the way," Daemus grunted.

They sprinted the rest of the way to Dormitory G. Blair threw open the door to Room 204, her heart sinking for a fraction of a second when she saw that Heather’s bed was still empty. Her roommate still wasn’t back. But she had to push the creeping dread aside; her professor was bleeding out right now.

"Put him on my bed," Blair ordered.

Daemus carefully laid Jack down on the lumpy, thin mattress. The sheer size of the two beastmen made the tiny human dorm room feel ridiculously cramped. Daemus stood back, running a hand through his messy hair as he looked around at the peeling wallpaper, the water stains on the ceiling, and the depressing, dingy furniture. He felt a bit claustrophobic.

"You actually live in this closet?" Daemus asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste at the damp smell of the building. He looked down at her. "This place is a dump. You should just move in the seniors’ mansion with me."

Blair’s face flushed a bright red at his offer.

"I’m fine here!" she snapped, pushing him toward the door. "Go to the infirmary or the kitchens or wherever you guys keep medical supplies! I need bandages, clean water, and something to draw out poison! Hurry!"

"I’ll be right back. Lock the door," Daemus ordered before bolting out into the hallway.

Blair locked the door, leaning her back against it for a second to catch her breath.

She turned to look at Jack. He was deathly pale, a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead as his chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.

Blair swallowed hard, her hands trembling. She walked over to the bed. If she was going to clean the wounds before Daemus got back, she had to get his shredded clothes off.

It felt really inappropriate. Her face burned as she carefully peeled away the ruined suit jacket, tossing it to the floor. She unbuttoned the blood-soaked vest, her fingers slipping awkwardly as she pulled the ruined white button-down shirt away from his skin.

Blair froze, her breath hitching in her throat.

She had always known he was well built, but without the suits, Professor Feron was incredibly built. Lean, corded muscle wrapped around his torso. But that wasn’t what shocked her.

His skin was covered in tattoos.

Intricate, dark, runic markings crawled across his collarbones, down his chest, and wrapped around his ribs. They looked ancient, like they told a story—a staggering contrast to the rigid, buttoned-up academic persona he portrayed to the rest of the world.

Blair was terrified to touch him. She felt like she was intruding on a secret she was never supposed to see.

She took a clean towel from her nightstand, leaning over him to press it against the gashes on his chest.

The second her trembling fingers brushed his bare, burning-hot skin, Jack’s hand shot out with blinding speed. His fingers clamped around her wrist like a vice. Blair let out a sharp gasp as Jack’s eyes snapped open in the dark, glowing a feral, fevered red.

Before she could even scream, Jack yanked her forward. He flipped her effortlessly onto the mattress, throwing his weight over her and pinning her firmly beneath his fever-hot body.