Episode 3: Lessons and Instincts

Morning sunlight filtered through the enchanted windows of Astrea, casting soft hues across the dorm walls. Ellona sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her mind buzzed with the events of the previous day—Tatiana’s energy, Dylan’s charm, and the strange reaction of her mana orb. None of it made sense, but she couldn’t shake the growing curiosity clawing at her chest.

After a quick change, she met Tatiana and Timothy outside the dorm. Tatiana was already chattering about the day’s schedule, waving a glowing class list in the air.

"First up, Theory of Werewolf Coexistence," she said. "Sounds intense. I hope it's not all growling and no content."

Timothy rolled his eyes. “It’s important.”

Ellona glanced between them. “Werewolf and human pairings... is that real? Like, how does that even work?”

Timothy blinked. “You mean imprinting?”

Tatiana giggled. “Ooooh, she’s asking the juicy stuff already.”

---

In the lecture hall, Professor Drest, a tall werewolf with silver-streaked hair and sharp amber eyes, began the lesson.

“Werewolf bonds aren’t just instinct—they’re ancient. Imprinting happens when a werewolf recognizes a soul that completes them. It doesn’t follow logic, or species. Human, witch, vampire—doesn’t matter.”

He paused, gaze sweeping across the room. “But understand this. Imprinting changes a werewolf forever. Their loyalty becomes absolute. Their rage, if that bond is threatened, can become catastrophic.”

Ellona scribbled notes, heart oddly tense. She caught Timothy glancing her way, then quickly looking away.

When the class ended, the halls buzzed with chatter. But before they could leave, a soft magical pulse rippled through the air.

---

Back in the mountains, Ellona’s grandmother lit a candle near the resting body of Ellaire. She whispered softly to the sleeping witch, “Rodrigo better protect her, as he promised. What happened seventeen years ago cannot be repeated. Especially if the traitor is still among us.”

Ellaire’s fingers twitched once again. This time, her breathing shifted ever so slightly.

---

That evening, in a lavish room lit by crimson lanterns, Davon stood in front of a mirror, buttoning his uniform shirt. His room was stark but elegant—more vampire estate than school dorm.

His eyes flickered to his own reflection, then narrowed. “That girl… Ellona,” he muttered. “She doesn’t smell like any race I’ve met. Not vampire. Not witch. Not hybrid.”

He tilted his head. “Interesting.”

---

In the cafeteria the next morning, breakfast passed with quiet energy. Ellona ate quickly, aware of occasional glances from upper-year students.

Tatiana rambled about club trials. Timothy sat silently, eyeing the exits. Davon walked in late, nodded toward Ellona, and sat alone near the window.

Before the bell rang, Professor Drest’s voice echoed through magical orbs across campus.

“All students—report to the Main Hall. Now.”

---

The tension in the hall was thick. Students whispered as they gathered in small clusters. Ellona stood near the edge of the crowd with Tatiana and Timothy.

Tyler and Leon—both werewolves—stood at the center of the gathering storm. Their shoulders tense, jaws clenched.

“What’s your problem, Leon?” Tyler’s voice was low but laced with warning.

“You think you can just do what you want 'cause your parents are Crimson Pack?” Leon snapped. “You act like you're above the rest of us.”

“I didn’t ask for you to follow me,” Tyler replied. “Back off.”

Leon growled. “Maybe someone should knock that pride out of you.”

Before anyone could stop it, Leon shoved Tyler.

Tyler stumbled back, but his eyes burned gold as his claws extended. The crowd gasped.

Timothy stepped forward, voice firm. “Tyler, stop!”

But Tyler didn’t hear. His rage flared—sudden, feral.

Ellona watched, heart pounding. Then Tyler’s eyes locked with hers.

Something in his expression shifted—confused, alarmed. But his body moved on instinct.

He lunged.