Killian's fingers, still trembling from the fight, worked the rusted lock of the old abandoned classroom with a bent paperclip. Cassian wedged a splintered chair leg under the handle for good measure. Rafe eased Bella down against the wall. Luca stayed by the door, ear pressed to the wood, listening for any footsteps.
Outside, the morning bell for first period rang across the entire school. Inside, the world narrowed to the five of them and the lingering smell of blood.
Bella sat with her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them as if holding herself together. The white marks once only visible in wolf form, now traced pale, lightning-bolt paths across her human skin: from collarbone to wrist, from temple to jaw. They didn't glow anymore, but they caught the light. Every breath she took seemed to cost her.
Rafe crouched beside her, careful not to disturb the claw marks on his own chest. "You're shaking."
"I'm not cold," she said. Her voice was raw. "I'm… remembering."
