Chapter 80
Ellie POV
The day of the midterm arrives like a held breath finally released.
Everything I’ve been carrying for weeks.
It’s strange how quiet my mind feels as I walk across campus, how all the chaos and noise that had lived in my head-Dominic’s voice, Vivian’s laughs, Karina’s threats, the constant whisper of what if I fail-compresses into a single, hard point of focus. I didn’t knwo who to trust, but it wasn’t them. It was myself.
This test. This building. This moment. Nothing else matters. Not the marks, not the rumors, not the way my life feels like it’s balanced on a blade.
I was going to prove I belonged. That this was my right path now.
Behind me, I hear them.
Whispers, snickers, half-muttered predictions said just loud enough to be cruel.
“She won’t survive the first real Healer test.”
“She’ll be crying back to Dominic by dinner.”
“She was never cut out for this.”
I don’t turn around, just keep my chin lifted and my steps steady, because if I let myself look, if I let myself react, I know I’ll give them exactly what they want. Doubt. Cracks. Proof that I’m already breaking.
Thadn’t slept much and all my remaining energy need to go here.
Outside the exam building, a small knot of students lingers, pretending not to watch as I approach. Karina is there, of course, laughing too loudly with her friends, her posture relaxed and smug in a way that makes my shoulders tense on instinct. As I pass, she lifts her hand in a little wave, eyes bright with anticipation.
“Good luck,” she sings, syrup-sweet.
I wanted to deck her.
Standing right beside her is Vivian.
She beams at me like sunlight, all innocence and encouragement, flashing me two exaggerated thumbs-up as if she’s cheering me on from the sidelines instead of quietly hoping I fall flat on my face. I roll my eyes before I can stop myself.
Two-faced doesn’t even begin to cover her.
Inside, the exam hall hums with low conversation and shuffling papers. I find my seat and sit stiffly as the professor steps forward, explaining the rules with a bored efficiency that makes my stomach twist. When the stack of midterms is handed to Karina to distribute to the lower years, I feel my jaw tighten.
She stops at my desk just a second longer than necessary.
Her smile sharpens as she places my test down, fingertips lingering on the edge of the paper like she’s savoring the moment.
When the professor signals us to begin, the room goes still.
1/3
+25 Bonus
I flip the paper.
And immediately, my pulse spikes.
The first question isn’t even on the original first year syllabus.
For a split second, panic flares this hot and suffocating pulse, but then recognition follows like a hand closing around my spine. I’ve seen this before. Read it late at night in one of Lucas’s old texts, the pages yellowed and dense with marginal notes, detailing the healing rates of mountain wolf breeds and the anomalies that come with altitude adaptation.
I exhale carefully and begin to write.
The exam doesn’t get easier.
If anything, it feels like it’s been designed for a four year, to prod every weak spot I should have. But I don’t. I’m ready. Questions spiral outward, and from the edges of the room I can feel Karina watching, practically vibrating with anticipation.
I don’t give her the satisfaction.
I grind through each section, refusing to rush, refusing to freeze, letting instinct and memory guide my hand when logic starts to blur. My wrist aches by the time I reach the final pages, my head pounding faintly.
Then I see it.
The word alone makes my breath hitch.
Wolfsbane.
A poison so rare it’s barely spoken about-taboo. It’s usually glossed over in theory and never tested in practice. But I knew how it felt.
My eyes skim the question, and the room seems to tilt.
If stabbed in the abdomen (non-fatal location), how long until the poison kills the victim? Is it reversible?
The answer choices stare back at me.
– Immediately, non-reversible
– A few days of suffering, but treatable
– Can self-heal against it, full recovery
–
A few days of suffering, non-reversible
My hand starts to shake.
No one taught this. No professor would. Wolfsbane isn’t something you quiz students on like it’s common knowledge.
But I know the answer.
Because this was the exact way…I died.
I felt the burn spread slowly through my veins, the way each breath grew heavier, the way hope lingered just long enough to make the end hurt more. Days of agony. No cure. No reversal.
2/3
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