The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans

Lorraine’s POV

My knees were still shaking as I stood.

My breath hadn’t returned fully, but there was no time to waste. That vision, it wasn’t just some fever dream or desperate illusion. I could still feel the cold of that place under my skin, still hear the whisper of chains rattling in the dark.

The Ghosthound was real.

And I had seen her prison.

I turned to glance at the photo one last time. The girl with her face covered in long, tangled blonde hair. Was that her? It had to be.

I grabbed the picture and folded it into my pocket, then slipped out of Astrid’s office, making sure to relock the door behind me. The hallway was silent. Too silent. The kind of stillness that wraps around you like warning, an omen that you were doing something you weren’t meant to survive.

But I kept moving. Fast. Determined.

I followed my gut, and more than that, I followed the pull in my chest. A strange, instinctive tug that guided me like an invisible thread leading deeper into the academy’s bones.

It wasn’t a straight path.

The academy had secrets. I’d always known it, but tonight those secrets bled through the walls. I passed darkened halls and empty training courts. I slipped past the library and turned into the maintenance tunnels. From there, I found the hidden stairwell I didn’t know I knew, yet somehow, my feet knew exactly where to go.

Down.