CHAPTER 4 The Awakening
Zara's POV
The temple doors slammed open, sending a gust of cold wind through the hall and everyone turned.
A group of students stepped in, dressed in deep blue uniforms. Their boots matched against the stone floor as they walked in tight formation, their heads high, and their backs straight. With everything they are exuding, no doubt, they are pure humans.
They didn't carry the wild energy of werewolves or the weird grace of witches. But somehow, they felt just as powerful. Maybe even more.
At the front of the group was a boy. He looked only a few years older than me, with sharp cheekbones and perfectly styled dark hair that framed a face too flawless to ignore. Calm and collected, like nothing could shake him. His presence pulled the room toward him like gravity.
"Fighting is forbidden in the temple," he said, his voice even and firm. "That rule applies to everyone."
Mark's hand dropped from where he'd been about to swing at me again. He looked away like a guilty child caught in the act.
The boy ignored him and walked toward me instead. Without asking, he reached out and gently helped me to my feet.
"You alright?" he asked softly.
"Yeah… thank you," I said, barely meeting his eyes. Up close, he was even more beautiful. His eyes held warmth, but something about him also felt distant, like he was used to carrying heavy things and hiding the weight behind calm eyes.
"I'm Miles," he said. "Leader of the Human Faction here."
"I'm Zara."
His lips lifted just a bit. "Well, Zara… don't let idiots like him shake you. People like that are just noise."
Before I could answer, a soft hum filled the room, and the golden pool at the center of the temple began to glow. Light glowed like ripples across its surface.
The ritual was about to begin.
Mistress Kyenna raised her hands. "The Awakening Ritual will now commence. One at a time, present your heirloom and step into the pool."
A nervous energy swept over the room. The first student stepped forward, a witch girl with silver bangles. The moment she entered the water, a green glow wrapped around her. Wind element.
Next was a tall boy from the human faction. Blue light. Water element. Then a witch boy, silver glow. Spirit.
Each one succeeded.
Just when I thought I'd have time to gather myself, Mark shoved past me.
"She should go first," he said loudly. "Let's see if the half-breed can even light a spark."
Some people chuckled. Others looked away uncomfortably. Miles glanced at me, but I saw no pity in his face. Just a quiet trust, like he believed I could handle it.
I took a shaky breath and stepped forward, clutching the pocket watch in my hand. The water was cold around my ankles as I walked to the center. My heart was thudding against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
I held the heirloom to my chest and closed my eyes. And then Nothing.
Seconds passed. The water rippled. But the orb didn't rise. No glow. No light. No element.
Just Silence. I slowly opened my eyes, Nothing had changed, a cold pit formed in my stomach.
"She failed," Mark's voice rang out. "What a joke. Who let her in here?"
They all burst into laughter echoing through the temple. I stared at the water, willing it to glow, to respond. Just a glimmer or just anything. But it didn't.
I walked back, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I could taste blood. I told myself not to cry. I was used to this. I was used to being nothing.
Still, something inside me cracked.
Mark sauntered up confidently. He stepped into the pool, held up a silver chain, and before the orb could even rise, a red light burst around him.
Fire.
He smirked and turned to the crowd. "That's how it's done."
Then he turned to me. "Take a good look, half-breed. This is probably the last place you'll ever see before you're kicked out."
I clenched my fists, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't. The next moment, the temperature in the room dropped.
Another gust of wind blew through the open temple doors. This time, the ones entering were dressed in deep red. Not ordinary red, but a dark, blood-colored shade that looked like danger and power stitched into fabric.
The pure werewolves had arrived..They moved like predators, unbothered by attention, every step echoing with confidence. Their leader walked in the center, a boy with messy raven-black hair, sharp eyes, and a jawline like a blade. Unlike Miles, he didn't smile. He didn't even look at anyone.
He radiated wildness, like a wolf barely restrained in human skin.
Mistress Kyenna raised an eyebrow. "Ronan. Late again."
The boy shrugged lazily. "Only cowards and obedient pets arrive early."
A few gasps filled the room, but Mistress Kyenna just sighed and let it go.
That was when his eyes shifted, and landed on me. Everything stopped. His gaze locked with mine, and I felt my breath hitch. It wasn't from fear, nor from attraction. But something deeper or let me say ancient.
Then I caught a scent which was extremely strong and sudden. Like pine and smoke and earth right after rain.
It hit me so hard I had to grab the edge of the bench for balance.
Ronan's expression changed.
His cold, detached look flickered. Something crossed his face like surprise and maybe recognition, I stared at him, wide-eyed.
And for the first time in my life, I felt something stirring in my chest. A quiet voice, not quite mine, whispering, Mate.
I hadn't even shifted yet. I didn't have a wolf..But she was there. She was waking up. And she knew exactly who he was.
Ronan. The cold, deadly werewolf everyone feared… was my mate!