Page 31 of Dead Wolf Falling (Bad Moon Academy 2)

Well, now I’m not going to, you freaking creep.

She scoffs.Wimp.

I growl, and Brayden’s brow furrows and a funny smile tugs at his lips.

“Are you arguing with your wolf?”

“Yes,” I confess, putting my hand on his chest and easing him back a few inches. “She’s annoying.”

Joan curses at me, but I studiously ignore her. Brayden searches my face again, gaze dropping to my mouth again for a millisecond before he turns and starts to walk away.

“Come on, Little Red, Carter wants us to study,” he calls over his shoulder.

I nod and follow him down the stairs, feeling the curious looks the others send our way once we reach the second floor.

“They’re staring,” Brayden whispers. “What do you think they think we were doing?”

“Seeing as they were probably eavesdropping, they know exactly what happened up there.”

Thanks to the enhanced hearing which comes with being a shifter, I have exactly zero privacy if someone really wants to listen in on my every conversation within the academy. I haven’t tested the full range of my hearing, but I know if I focus, I can hear Headmaster Erron moving around in his office.

I stop halfway back to my chair and laugh because I’m anidiot. “Oh my god. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“What’s she talking about?” Adler glances at the others like they might be able to clue him in.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Carter says with a shake of his head.

Rushing to the door, I yank it open, ignoring the men calling my name as I rush to the headmaster’s office. He’s in charge, right? Surely he knows of a way to stop her.

Isn’t he an omega?

Yeah.

Joan hums.Perhaps you are overestimating his abilities, Raven. He is here to keep the peace. I doubt he knows anything useful.

I have to ask.

When I turn down the hall leading to Headmaster Erron’s office, I see a flash of familiar curls disappearing down the stairwell which leads to the crypt.

Morg?

“Raven?” Everett calls my name from the foyer.

I sprint down the hall, using the wall to turn and run down the stairs. The light is flickering like the last time I was here, and I don’t have a flashlight, so by the time I get down to the creepy brick corridor, I’m engulfed in the darkness.

My ears tune into the drip, drip, dripping of whatever busted pipe is leaking and my eyes adjust enough that I can make out the vague shapes of the objects in the room.

“Morg?” I whisper her name, but there’s no reply.

“Raven?” Everett’s voice sounds far away, and I turn toward the stairs with a frown.

I swear I saw her. Glancing around again, I foolishly hope I’ll see her face, but my stomach sinks. If she were here, she would have said something. Morg is gone. Her spirit form hasn’t come to me though. Her death was traumatic. Souls take time to process trauma. Being the only medium in Bad Moon Academy has its perks.

“She’s not dead.”

You’re talking to yourself.

Shut it. Morg’s not dead.

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