Chapter 18
Chapter 18
The sunlight filtered through sheer curtains as I opened my eyes to the soft hum of birdsong outside the window. It was my first morning in the new apartment, and for the first time in a while, I didn’t wake up with a racing heart or the remnants of a nightmare clinging to my skin.
Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the space. Or maybe, just maybe, I was starting to feel… safe?
The pregnancy news of Kaithlin should be break me, but shockingly it’s not.
It’s like deep down I am aware that this could happen, sooner or later, because they mated and I start accept it.
Audrey was already gone when I walked into the kitchen. A note on the counter read:
“Patrol early today. Call if you need anything. Left coffee. –A.”
I smiled faintly, the warmth in my chest growing.
Audrey didn’t say much, but her loyalty spoke louder than any words.
After a quick shower and a piece of toast, I gathered my bag and sketchbook and headed to the university. My art classes were still my anchor–my only true escape since I’d arrived in Florence.
The campus was waking up as I stepped into the main hall. Students bustled past with half–zipped bags and sleepy smiles, and I moved through the crowd, unnoticed as always–until I wasn’t.
It started with a professor.
Professor Berardi paused in front of the classroom, her brow furrowing as she looked at me before nod in acknowledgement.
It was strange how normal things had begun to feel.
I still walked to class with my sketchbook tucked under my arm, still sat in the far–left corner of the Art Studio where the windows poured in light in the
late afternoon.
I still barely spoke unless spoken to, and I still used the same excuse when classmates asked me to join them for coffee after: “I’ve got work later.”
But something had shifted.
I couldn’t quite place it, but I could feel it. The air was heavier now, laced with something more aware.
Like I was being watched–but not in a menacing way. More… monitored. Tracked.
Humans at the university had no idea what I was. To them, I was just the quiet girl from another country, always sketching, always a little tired, always polite but distant.
But among the werewolves on campus, things had started to change.
Most werewolves here studied in more physical or political departments—Combat Strategy, Shifter Psychology, Pack Law. I was the only werewolf student in the Art department. I’d always thought that might give me space. A bubble to heal in peace.
But lately, the bubble was stretching thin.
There were glances from across the courtyard–just a second too long. Conversations that paused when I walked by. A warrior student from Combat Studies who always happened to be at the library at the same time I was, even though he didn’t seem to be reading anything.
One afternoon, as I packed my things after class, I saw him again. The same tall boy with ash–brown hair and a strong build. He stood just outside the studio building, pretending to scroll through his phone.
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Chapter 18
When I stepped outside, his gaze flicked up.
We didn’t speak. We never did.
But I noticed the subtle nod he gave me..
I didn’t return it. Instead, I walked straight to the bus stop, my heart a little faster than it should be. Not from fear… but from not knowing why.
The changes were subtle, but constant.
Some of the werewolf students had started acknowledging me in ways they hadn’t before. A nod here. A longer glance. A few even offered greetings now.
“Hey, El,” a student from the Shifter Law course called out one morning as I walked through the courtyard. “Good luck with your sketch review today.”
I paused. “Thanks…?”
He smiled and walked away without explanation.
I stood there for a moment, unsure whether to feel grateful or unnerved.
It was strange to realize it had been more than a year since I arrived in Florence.
1 year 5 months since I stepped onto the campus of this university—where humans and werewolves coexisted in careful harmony, most of them unaware of each other.
1 year 5 months since I chose to hide in the quiet corners of the art department, the only werewolf student enrolled there.
1 year 5 months since I had buried my name, my pain, my past… under canvases and charcoal and silence.
And somehow, it felt like the world around me had started to shift. Just a little.
I walked slowly through the stone paths of the university courtyard, a sketchbook tucked under my arm.
The morning air was cool, scented with early–blooming jasmine from the garden near the student café.
My classes were done for the day, but I found it hard to go straight to the apartment Audrey and Beta Alfonso insisted I move into. Not that it wasn’t comfortable–it was. Too much, even. But sometimes the stillness inside made me restless.
I preferred the quiet noise of people. The laughter of students, the murmur of conversations in a dozen languages, the occasional bark of someone’s contraband puppy.
As I passed by the economics building, I felt it again–a flicker of attention.
I turned slightly. A pair of students were lounging by the steps, one of them subtly watching me. A werewolf, I could tell by the way his energy hummed just a little louder in the air. I didn’t recognize him. Maybe from the engineering department?
He looked away quickly when I caught his gaze.
It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened lately.
I’d noticed it during lunch last week too–when a tall werewolf from political science had offered me the last blueberry muffin with a sheepish grin, even though he had clearly picked it out first. And again in the library, when one of the guards who patrolled the shared campus space had nodded at me with a kind of quiet respect I didn’t understand.
It was as if… someone had told them something.
But what?
Shrugging off the thought, I headed to my usual spot on the back steps of the Fine Arts building.
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It was a hidden little perch where ivy grew wild up the stone wall, and the sun hit just right in the afternoon.
I opened my sketchbook, flipped to a half–finished portrait of the rose I’d seen in the Alpha’s garden–and began to draw again.
The curve of the petal. The softness of shadows.
Here, I could breathe.
470
I lost track of time, as always.
It wasn’t until I smelled something warm and buttery that I realized someone was standing nearby. I blinked up to see a girl in a floral sundress Folding out a paper bag.
“Hey,” she said with a soft smile. “I saw you here yesterday. You dropped your pencil when you left. I thought I’d give it back–and bring a croissant, just
in case.”
She handed me both before I could even answer.
“Oh–thank you,” I murmured, surprised. “You didn’t have to.”
She waved it off. “You’re Ellaine, right? I’m Lina. I’m in pre–med.” Her tone was casual, but there was something in her gaze–a flicker of curiosity. Respect. Maybe even caution.
I nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
She stayed for only a moment longer, then offered a quick smile and left. I watched her go, unsure how to feel.
Kindness used to scare me.
Now, it only confused me.
When I returned to the apartment that evening, Audrey was already waiting in the kitchen.
“You were out late,” she said, not unkindly. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I replied, kicking off my shoes. “Just drawing.”
She handed me a warm drink–lavender tea. My favorite.
“You’re being noticed more,” she said after a pause.
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
She gave me a look–half fond, half amused. “The younger wolves talk. Some of them have heard your name from their department heads. You’ve got a reputation for being… quiet but talented. And they like that you don’t act like you’re better than anyone.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t mean to get noticed.”
“I know. But sometimes, El…” Audrey set her mug down and looked at me seriously. “It’s not about whether you want attention. It’s about who you are- and how that can’t be ignored forever.”
I didn’t reply.
I didn’t know what to say.
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So I went to my room and curled up by the window instead, sketching the skyline until the stars blurred through my tears.
The next day, I found a small bouquet of wildflowers on my desk in the painting studio. No note. Just a quiet gift, wrapped in twine.
I didn’t ask who left it.
I didn’t need to know.
Some part of me was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, I was allowed to be seen.
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