Chapter 48
The Healer Academy looked nothing like the Management wing.
Where Management was all polished marble, stiff portraits, and suffocating tradition, this place felt alive. It was like stepping into the heart of a kingdom-sized hospital built for wolves with money and power.
The entrance hall soared three stories high, a massive atrium of glass and carved stone. Sunlight poured through vaulted skylights, hitting the gold inlaid swirls that curled along the walls like flowing veins. The marble here wasn’t sterile white, it shimmered faintly with warm undertones, streaked with gold flecks that caught the light with every step.
A massive emblem of the Healer’s Crest, a circle surrounding twin wolves and a surgical blade, gleamed above the welcome desk, polished within an inch of its life.
Soft blue enchantment lights pulsed slowly along the baseboards, guiding students deeper into the wing. Everything smelled faintly of eucalyptus, lavender, and disinfectant. All of it calming, clean, clinical, but somehow luxurious.
I stepped inside, bag slung over my shoulder, and had to force myself not to gawk like a tourist.
Medical tables, training chambers, and glass observation rooms lined the halls. Students in pale blue uniforms walked with purpose, some carrying stacks of anatomy scrolls or boxes of medical instruments.
It felt… real.
A place where people actually learned how to save lives, not just how to smile and wave as a Luna. I bit my lip. No. Luna’s did a lot for there packs. I’m just salty.
But even in a building designed for healing, venom still thrived.
I instantly recognized a few faces from my old classes, I mean, we were right next door to the Management Academy, and sometimes people would take classes or electives here, or switch.
A few of these people once sat near me or borrowed pens but had never spoken more than a half-hearted “Hey.” Their eyes widened when they saw me.
And just like that…
The whispers began.
“That’s her.”
“The one who somehow made top ten? Yeah, right.”
“She only got in because she’s tied to the Alpha Heir.”
“No, Lucas got her in. Still an Alpha’s help, isn’t it?”
“She’s riding coattails.”
“She won’t last a week here.”
Their voices slithered through the hall. Lucas fangirls. Dominic and Vivian loyalists. People terrified of losing their precious hierarchy.
Same song, new verse. Not sure why I thought Pack drama wouldn’t reach here.
1/3
I lifted my chin, spine straightened.
If they wanted to doubt me, fine.
I’d give them something spectacular to choke on.
The instructor was a broad shouldered wolf with streaks of gray in his hair and the patience of a man who’d seen everything and hated most of it.
“Today’s exercise,” he said, gesturing to the rows of medical dummies on the tables, “is a simulated arterial rupture. Advanced work. I do not expect any of you to complete this. The point is to assess your instincts.”
That earned a nervous ripple from the class.
He clapped his hands. “When I say begin, you will treat the wound with gauze, then attempt a pressure stitch. Yes, I know none of you have done this. Try anyway,”
People scattered to claim stations.
I stepped up to mine, a model wolf torso with a mechanical heart and a gash that pulsed out fake blood in thick, steady spurts.
Alright. At least I couldn’t kill anyone day one,
“Begin!”
Students lunged into action, and chaos erupted instantly.
Someone shrieked when their dummy started “bleeding out” too fast.
Another’s heartbeat flatlined before they even touched it.
Gauze flew.
A table toppled.
There was red everywhere, sticky, warm, and embarrassingly fake.
I blocked out the noise.
My breathing steadied.
I sanitized my hands, grabbed gauze, and pressed down hard.
Firm pressure. Find the pulse point. Angle the wrist. Check oxygen level. Confirm arterial tear
My movements were controlled, precise, sharper than they’d ever been in a school setting
One wrap, Two, Three.
My fingers moved like they’d been waiting for this. Like all the years I’d wasted dreaming about a Luna role were being burned away, replaced with something real.
When the bleeding slowed, I reached for the suturing tools.
Fake skin stretched beneath my fingertips.
I could do this. I would do this.
217
+25 Bonus
Everything was going perfectly as I pushed the needle through and began the pressure stitch. I was the last one still going, everyones eyes on me now.
A small crowd including the professor forming.
“No way she’s doing this.”
“She’ll fail, just wait.”
Not when I had something to prove-
The model’s vitals suddenly spiked, the monitor screeching an alarm.
I froze.
The dummy’s heartbeat skyrocketed, wildly, as if something inside had snapped.
It was dying.
But… that wasn’t possible.
P
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