Chapter 5: The Past Has a Way of Following

Roxanne stood in front of the mirror the next morning, staring at her own reflection like it owed her an explanation.

Her eyes looked normal. Brown, tired, unremarkable.

She blinked, half expecting something to flicker again. Nothing did.

Maybe it had been exhaustion. Adrenaline from the fight, the stress of a new academy, her body playing tricks on her after everything that had happened this week.

She pressed a hand against her chest. Her wolf was silent, the way it had been for years.

That almost convinced her she’d imagined the whole thing.

Almost.

She decided not to mention it to Isla. She’d had enough whispers follow her around already without adding "girl whose eyes randomly glow" to the list.

Isla burst through the door a moment later, already half dressed and complaining loudly about being late.

"Why are you standing there like you’re interrogating your own face?"

"I’m not."

"You’re still thinking about that fight, aren’t you?"

"No."

Isla smirked, tugging a shirt over her head. "Still thinking about the Moonstones then."

Roxanne groaned. "I sincerely hope I never have to deal with those four again."

Isla laughed, grabbing her bag, completely unaware of how wrong that hope was about to turn out to be.

The walk to class had become almost familiar now, faces she recognized dotting the hallways. Unfortunately, some of them recognized her too.

"That’s the rejected girl," someone murmured.

"The one with the dormant wolf."

Roxanne kept walking, refusing to give the whispers her attention. Strangers didn’t get to decide who she was.

Then, crossing the main courtyard, she stopped cold.

A scent hit her, familiar in a way that made her stomach drop before her brain caught up.

Dorian.

Her heart gave one painful, involuntary beat, and she hated her body for remembering him before her mind could reject it.

She looked toward the gates.

He was there. And beside him, arm linked through his like it belonged there, was Arabella.

They weren’t hiding anymore. They were walking through the academy together, openly, like a couple with nothing to be ashamed of.

Of course they’d arrived weeks ago. They’d had time to settle in, make friends, build a life here while she was still catching up.

Fine. Let them have it. She didn’t want it anymore.

Arabella spotted her first. Surprise crossed her face, then discomfort, then something sharper.

She whispered something to Dorian. His gaze found Roxanne, and his expression shifted too.

Neither of them had expected her to actually show up.

They approached anyway. Roxanne wished, briefly and pointlessly, that they’d just keep walking.

"Roxanne," Arabella said, arranging her face into something sympathetic. "I was so worried about you."

"Were you?"

"I didn’t know if you’d even come, after everything."

Roxanne looked between them, and it clicked. They were waiting for her to cry. To fall apart in front of them the way she had that night.

She didn’t.

Dorian stepped in. "I never wanted to hurt you. Things just got complicated."

Complicated. The same word he’d used standing beside Arabella after she’d caught them.

"You don’t have to explain," Roxanne said.

He blinked, thrown off. "I thought you’d hate me."

"I did." A beat. "I’m getting over it."

Something flickered across his face, disappointment maybe, like he’d been counting on still having power over her.

Arabella’s composure cracked slightly. "I never meant for you to get hurt."

Roxanne thought of the bedroom door. The wine bottle. The letter crumpling in her fist.

"You don’t have to pretend we were friends," she said quietly. "You made your choice."

Arabella’s eyes narrowed, and her gaze dropped to Roxanne, taking in the way she still carried herself a little differently from the others.

"At least you finally got admitted," Arabella said, a smile curling at the edge of her mouth. "I was starting to think the academy had standards."

A few students nearby went quiet, listening now.

"Your wolf still hasn’t come out, has it?" Arabella pressed, sensing blood in the water. "Maybe the Moon Goddess knew exactly what she was doing when she rejected you."

That one landed harder than she probably expected.

Roxanne let the silence stretch a beat too long, then smiled, cold and easy.

"Maybe," she said. "But apparently she gave you Dorian. So I wouldn’t brag about her judgment."

A ripple of laughter broke out among the watching students. Arabella’s face went red. Dorian looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

Then someone nearby murmured something about the Moonstone brothers, and Dorian’s head snapped up.

"You’ve been around the Moonstones?" he asked.

"I’ve spoken to them," Roxanne said, confused by the sudden edge in his voice.

"What did they want?"

"Why does that matter?"

He didn’t have an answer, just a tight, unreadable expression that told her this conversation had shifted into something else entirely.

Unseen nearby, four brothers had caught the entire exchange.

Lucien noted the composure in her voice, the way she never once let her hands shake.

Roshan’s curiosity sharpened, wondering exactly what kind of rejection could leave someone standing this steady.

Liam grinned at her comeback, clearly delighted.

Kai said nothing, his attention caught on something subtler. When Dorian stepped closer to her, Roxanne’s scent shifted, just slightly, in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Roxanne decided she was done.

"We’re strangers now," she told Dorian.

Then, to Arabella: "Act like it."

She turned and walked away, Isla falling into step beside her, leaving Dorian staring after her with an expression Arabella clearly didn’t like.

Once they were alone, Isla asked gently, "You okay?"

"I’m fine."

"You don’t have to be fine right now."

Roxanne exhaled. "Seeing him hurt. Not because I want him back. I just hate that someone I loved can still make my chest hurt like that."

"You don’t have to go back to any of it," Isla said.

"I’m not," Roxanne said firmly. "I’m not going back."

That evening, back in her room alone, Roxanne caught herself glancing at the mirror again out of habit.

Nothing happened. She almost laughed at herself for even checking.

She reminded herself why she’d come here. To get stronger. To prove that a dormant wolf didn’t make her weak. She didn’t need Dorian, didn’t need Arabella’s approval, and she certainly didn’t need a mate to feel whole.

Then, without warning, something stirred deep in her chest.

Harder this time. Sharper.

Her breath caught, and for a moment the room around her seemed to fall away.

Not one presence. Four.

Four distant heartbeats, faint but unmistakable. Four different scents threading through her senses, each one distinct, each one somehow tugging at something buried deep inside her.

She pressed her hand flat against her sternum, waiting for it to make sense.

It didn’t. Her wolf gave her nothing but the sensation itself, no voice, no explanation, just a pull she couldn’t name.

Then it vanished, as suddenly as it came, leaving her standing alone in the quiet room with her heart hammering.

Roxanne stared at her own reflection, breathless.

"Am I dying?" she whispered.