Rejected by Four Mates: Awakening of the Silver Wolf

Chapter 35: Chapter 36: This.... punishment might actually kill me

The moment the Sentinels stepped through the doorway, the chaos didn’t fade.

It didn’t taper off reluctantly or wind down like a dying engine.

It died.

Instantly.... Violently.

As though an invisible hand had reached in and strangled every sound in the room at once. One heartbeat the air was thick with grunts, curses, crashing furniture, and the wet smack of fists against flesh. The next heartbeat, nothing.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

Thorne and the blonde-headed boy remained locked together on the floor in a grotesque tangle of limbs... fists still cocked halfway through their arcs, chests heaving, sweat and a thin smear of blood glistening on the blonde’s split lip. But the instant their eyes registered the silver insignia glinting on the Sentinels’ dark uniforms, both boys froze. Not out of fear, exactly. More like prey animals that had just realized the predator in the room was something far older, far colder, and infinitely less forgiving than either of them.

Every other student in the cramped dorm recoiled on instinct, backs pressing against walls, shoulders hunching as though trying to make themselves smaller, less noticeable. Even Elion... whose fingers had been clamped around my upper arm like a vice... released me.

The two Sentinels didn’t raise their voices. They didn’t need to.

One of them had already barked a single word when they first appeared:

"Enough."

That was all it took.

They didn’t ask who started it.

They didn’t demand explanations, witness statements, or apologies.

They simply stood there, tall, broad-shouldered, faces carved from granite, and let their eyes drift slowly across the wreckage.

Overturned duffel bag spilling clothes like entrails across the scuffed wooden floor.

A single sneaker lying on its side like roadkill.

Shattered lamp glass glittering beside the bed like cruel, scattered diamonds.

A toppled chair. A dented metal trash bin.

And finally... inevitably... the two boys still sprawled in the epicenter of the destruction, breathing like bellows, knuckles raw and swelling.

The taller Sentinel exhaled through his nose. The sound carried the weight of long-practiced irritation, the sigh of someone who had already seen this exact scene play out too many times on the first night of term.

"Dorm Red," he stated, voice flat and colorless.

His partner crossed thick arms over an even thicker chest. His expression remained utterly unreadable behind the faint silver scar that ran from temple to jaw.

"So the first fight begins already."

The words weren’t mocking. They weren’t angry. They were simply... factual. As though he were noting the weather.

No one spoke.

The taller Sentinel swept his gaze across every face in the room like an exterminator assessing a particularly disappointing infestation. Then he spoke again.

"Outside."

One word.

No elaboration.... Not even negotiation.

No opportunity to explain that maybe... just maybe... this wasn’t entirely our fault....

Like maybe we are possessed ƒгeewebnovёl.com

We moved.

Not because we wanted to, but we were not brave enough to disobey.

Within minutes the seven of us stood in a ragged line on the frost-kissed grass outside the dormitory building.

Students from the other wings had already drifted toward their windows and doorways, drawn by the commotion like moths to porch lights. Low murmurs rippled through the gathering crowd.

Great.

First day at Altheris Academy and Dorm Red was already the evening’s entertainment.

I caught sight of Liora among the onlookers, standing slightly apart from the others, arms folded tightly across her chest. Her Black hair caught the lamplight. Her eyes found mine immediately... wide, confused, silently asking: What the hell did you people do already?

I gave her the world’s most pathetic pout in return.

Not my fault my dormmates are feral.

The evening air sliced against my bare arms and throat, sharp enough to make me shiver. The Sentinels marched us wordlessly toward the academy field.

The field was monstrous.

It stretched away into darkness on every side, far larger than any training pitch or parade ground I’d ever seen. Beneath the weak amber glow of the perimeter lights, the grass looked almost black. The sheer scale of it swallowed sound, swallowed light, swallowed hope. This wasn’t a place for casual exercise. This was built for war games, endurance trials...

...and, apparently, punishment.

The Sentinels halted at the near edge.

We lined up automatically.... seven miserable silhouettes against the vast emptiness.

The taller one spoke first.

"You will run three laps of the academy field."

The shorter Sentinel added, tone calm and almost bored,

"That is the standard penalty for engaging in physical altercation inside academy dormitories."

A heavy silence followed.

The kind of silence that presses against your eardrums and makes you wonder what worse thing is still waiting to be said.

But honestly?

That wasn’t even the worst part.

Three laps?.

I stared at the distant curve of the field where it disappeared into shadow. Even half a circuit around this place would be enough to drop most humans to their knees gasping. And I... despite every desperate lie I’d told myself.... I was still the closest thing to an ordinary, wolfless human this academy had probably ever admitted.

The taller Sentinel’s eyes moved slowly down the line, reading each face.

"Now."

No investigation.

No questions.

No attempt to determine blame.

Punishment first.

Truth apparently came second.... if it came at all.

Someone behind me let out a soft, defeated groan.

Elion muttered a curse under his breath.

Kaden (Blonde-Head) wiped fresh blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and shot Thorne a look that promised murder at the earliest opportunity.

But no one argued.

You could sometimes argue with professorsor whatee they are known as.

But Sentinels?

Every first-year had grown up hearing the stories. And those stories rarely ended with the student walking away unscathed.

My mouth opened before my brain could stop it.

"I’m sorry, sirs."

Both Sentinels turned their heads toward me in perfect unison.

I swallowed hard enough to hurt.

"Can you... please reconsider the punishment?"

Several of my dormmates whipped around to stare at me as though I’d just spat in a sacred fire.

"I’m... kind of wolfless," I went on, voice cracking on the last word. "Actually.... I can barely be considered anything at all."

I forced what I hoped was a disarming, helpless smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.

"This.... punishment might actually kill me."

I was banking...praying.... on the faint possibility that pity still existed somewhere behind those silver badges.

My dormmates gaped at me like I’d lost my mind.

Everyone except Elion.

And... strangely..... Thorne.

Both of them watched me with something dangerously close to amusement flickering in their eyes.

The shorter Sentinel answered, voice dry as old bone.

"You should have considered your limitations before participating in a brawl."

I opened my mouth to protest....

The taller one cut me off with arctic calm.

"Start running."

"Before I make it five."

I inhaled.... shaky, shallow.

Then I started running.

The first dozen strides weren’t terrible. Adrenaline shoved me forward; my boots slapped the packed dirt in a frantic rhythm. The group fanned out quickly across the enormous field. Night wind rushed cold against my cheeks. The academy buildings smeared into streaks of light at the periphery of my vision.

But by the end of the first quarter....

My lungs had begun to burn.

By the halfway mark of the first lap....

It felt as though someone had cinched iron bands around my ribcage and was slowly tightening the screws.

The others were still moving easily.

Of course they were.

Werewolves with lungs like bellows and legs like pistons.

Vampires who didn’t even need to breathe the same way humans did.

Witches drawing faint threads of power to lighten their steps.

And then there was me.

The wolfless girl.

My legs grew heavier with every stride.

My breathing turned wet and ragged, scraping down my throat like broken glass.

Don’t stop.

I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached.

Don’t you dare stop.

Before I’d even staggered across the finish line of lap one, the vampire girl.... Who I don’t know the name yet, had already completed all three laps. She slowed to an elegant walk at the far side, barely breathing harder than when she’d started.

Show-off.

Somehow, through sheer stubbornness and a generous helping of spite.... I finished the first lap.

Barely.

The second began before my body had even remembered how to stand upright.

My vision tunneled at the edges.

My heartbeat thundered inside my skull like war drums.

Most of the others were already finished or nearly there. Some slowed to watch. Some glanced back with something that might have been pity.

None of them looked even close to collapsing.

Unlike me.

Halfway through the second lap my knees buckled. I stumbled hard... arms windmilling.... caught myself at the last possible second.... and kept going.

By now only the quiet brown-haired human boy and I remained on the circuit. Even he was about to round the final bend of his third lap.

So I kept moving.

Because stopping would invite something far worse than exhaustion.

When the third lap began, my body no longer felt like mine. It was a borrowed machine of fire and lead. Every step dragged invisible chains. Every breath was a knife.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

Steady.

Matching my faltering pace.

I didn’t need to look.

Thorne.

He had finished ages ago.

Which meant he’d purposely circled back.

Apparently the Sentinels didn’t care.... as long as the required punishment was completed, you could torture yourself with extra distance if you wanted to play martyr.

I kept my gaze locked forward.

Breathing in harsh, wet gasps.

Refusing to acknowledge him.

He stayed anyway.

A silent shadow at my shoulder.

And for some stupid, irrational reason, his presence annoyed me more than the fire in my lungs or the iron taste of blood in my mouth.

"Get away from me," I rasped.

He didn’t answer.

Now it was only us left on the endless black field.

Even the brown-haired boy had crossed the line.

Elion was sprawled on the grass near the Sentinels, elbows propped behind him, grinning like this was premium entertainment.

"You can do this, Gorgeous!" he shouted, voice carrying clear across the empty space.

Despite everything.... despite the pain sawing through every muscle... my mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile.

One tiny spark of ridiculous encouragement.

And somehow it was enough to drag one more step out of me.

But before I reached the halfway mark of the third lap...

Thorne spoke.

Quiet.... Rough.

Almost lost beneath the roar of blood in my ears.

"I’m sorry."

The words sounded strange... distant.... like they’d traveled across a great chasm to reach me.

For one disoriented second I thought I’d hallucinated them.

Then the world tilted violently.

My legs simply... stopped obeying.

The ground rushed up.

I hit the ground hard... My cheek scraping against grit, and lungs exploding with the impact.

Everything went black.

And mercifully.... finally.... quiet.