Page 5 of Alpha’s One-Night Stand (Shifters of Clarion #3)

“ T his is my stop, miss,” the driver announces.

“What? Won’t you take me in or something?”

He gives me a look as if I had just suggested something crazy.

“Sorry, miss. All public transports have to stop outside the gates of Moonhelm.”

I roll down the window and lean out, looking up at the high wrought-iron gates. About half a mile past it is a huge dark brick building that looks more like that big black mountain with the demon on it from Fantasia . This is the school?

It’s a weird policy, but . . . Well, this is kind of a weird set up in the first place. I pay the driver and get out. He gets my bag for me, then drives off without so much as a good luck.

Fabulous. For a moment, I stand there, alone, with my suitcase, left to face the mighty iron gates and the big scary building. I drag my belongings up to the gate and look around. There’s no call box or anything. There’s not even anyone out here. What am I supposed to do? Knock? Scream hello?

“Hello?” I holler, opting for the obvious. My voice echoes through the air, up into the sky, bouncing off the black walls of the building beyond. How the hell am I supposed to enter the damn school if there’s no way of getting into it? I start looking around for a rock to throw.

I hear a quick whooshing noise. I look up to see that a door has appeared in one of the gate’s columns. A tall man in a black guard’s uniform stands in the door, looking at me with hard black eyes.

“State your name and purpose, please.”

I’m speechless. Where did that door come from? Where did he come from?

“State your name and purpose,” he repeats in more of a firm tone. I clear my throat.

“Um, I’m a student,” I stammer. “I just got in and—”

“ID.”

I fish around through my pockets and produce my driver’s license. He takes it, looks it over quickly, then hands it back to me.

“Thank you, Ms. Wilkins. Walk down the road to the front entrance, then greet your host at the staircase.” The gates slide open slowly. I look at them long enough to acknowledge their existence. When I turn back to the guard, he’s gone.

I walk up the long cobblestone path to the front entrance. The building is so big, it feels like I’m not making any progress, like it’s just standing still in the distance.

I am, though. Dragging my suitcase behind me as it makes an annoying clickety-clack sound over the stones, I get to the front entrance in a matter of minutes. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I thought that maybe there might be a party of some sort. I see students here and there on the grounds, dressed in black uniforms with books in their arms. Talking and laughing with one another. It almost feels like any old a college campus.

But no party. No welcoming committee. Just me, walking past with my bag, trying not to stare at the students around me.

The door has a large knocker on it. A wolf’s head with a ring in its mouth. I reach up to use it, but the door opens on its own. Convenient.

I walk into the foyer, which looks less like some grand castle and more like a . . . well, school lobby. I pass through a sliding glass door where a woman waits by a front desk area, right before a flight of stairs. She smiles at me, her ruby red lipstick a little too loud for her pale skin.

“Welcome to Moonhelm,” she says. “Please check in here.” She motions to a clipboard on the desk. I walk over and sign my name. As I check in, I can’t help but notice how normal everything seems here. It’s quite the contrast from the gothic aesthetic of the exterior.

“Here you go,” she says, handing me a keycard. “I hope you settle in nicely.”

I smile politely, looking for a nametag. There isn’t one. “Thank you,” I say.

“The dormitories are right upstairs and down the hall. Just follow the signs. You’re assigned to room twelve.”

I thank her again and make my way up the stairs and down the hall as she instructed. The hall leading to the dormitories is short. Before I know it, I’m walking down what looks like a simple college dorm. I pass doors that have been decorated in some interesting ways. Photos, glitter—or at least it kind of looks like glitter. Sparks seem to jump off the wood. Better not touch it. The last thing I want is to get any on me.

Finally, I reach my plain brown door. I don’t know if I’ll decorate mine. Seems kind of silly since I’m not really here to study. I let myself in with my keycard. “Welcome to your new life,” I whisper to myself.

I finally finish putting my clothes in the closet and unpacking all my toiletries. Looking around this room, it’s like nothing really changed from before I moved in. It’s a simple room. A full size bed in the corner, a desk in the other. Plain off-white walls and a beige carpet. I should make more of an effort to fit in and put up some posters or something in here. Later, though.

I pull out my cell phone and text Cole, Just made it in. I’ll keep you updated. Then I set my cell phone down on my bed and go take a shower, since I didn’t have time to when I left home.

Standing under the warm water, I start thinking about what Cole said about missing alumni and the connection to Mom’s disappearance. I’ll have to figure out where the records are being kept here. Surely there will be a tour or something that will tell me where everything is.

I dress quickly, putting on a black leather skirt and blouse. Hope I get a uniform soon. I don’t have that many black clothes. I pick up my phone to check my messages. No word about an orientation or anything. Hmm. Strange, strange. I should find out where the administration office is and start there.

I leave my dorm room and walk down the hallway. As I do, I notice several students milling about, just like I’d seen them outside. As I pass by some of the groups, they stare at me. Whispers as I pass by. I catch a phrase that seems directed at me, though nobody stops me.

Blue blood . That must mean me? Maybe that’s what they call new students here. I keep walking, though.

I go down the stairs and spot the woman I met coming in. She’s still standing by the front desk like she’s got nothing better to do. I walk up to her.

“Excuse me. Do you know where the administration building is?”

The woman tilts her head a little, then answers, “Why yes. You can find the administration building on the eastern side of campus. Just follow the path. The signs will tell you where to go.”

It’s hitting me that there’s something a little . . . mechanical about the way she’s talking to me. She almost sounds like an Alexa.

“Thanks,” I say to her and walk out the front door.

Outside, students casually stroll the grounds. I start to wonder about classes and how they were structured. What buildings they were in and what my schedule was going to be. It’s so weird that nobody’s given me a packet or something yet.

I walk along the path, heading east as instructed. A calm breeze brushes against my face. It’s a nice, sunny day, and it feels good to be outside for a minute. I kind of feel like I’m on a leisurely walk.

I start taking note of the building structures. Looking at the places that I imagine are the academic portions of campus. I pass by one large window and see rows of bookshelves, students studying at tables. Ah, the library. Making a mental note of that . . .

Tall trees silently whisper above me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that they were trying to talk to me. I chuckle to myself, the thought of a mouth actually appearing on one of the tree trunks tickling me.

I must be turned around. I’m suddenly standing in a patch of wood. I look behind me and see nothing but trees. Shit. I got distracted and walked off the path somehow. I look around a little more and spot a tiny chapel through the trees. It’s painted almost entirely white with a bell sitting on the rooftop. And right beside it is a graveyard.

I walk toward it. When I clear the trees, I can see the headstones are all bone white and jutting out like piano keys. I walk over to the gate around the graveyard and peer in at them. They all look brand new. I wonder who the caretaker is here. There’s not a single spec of dirt or moss on any of them.

I also notice that each stone is cut out in the same shape and size. Like a war memorial or something. Hmm. Was there a war here, perhaps? Curiouser and curiouser.

One of the rods in the gate is bent slightly. I decide to squeeze through it and onto the soft carpet of grass enveloping the graveyard. It’s dead quiet here. There’s no sound of the trees rustling or birds in the distance. I feel like I’ve stepped into a vacuum. As I walk, I start to look at each bright white headstone, the names catching my attention. I pause at one headstone.

Mother and esteemed founder, Kathryn Lingus. The word mother jumps out at me. Not my mother’s name…but close. She could be here, buried among the dead. No one ever came to visit because no one ever knew . . .

I keep walking, reading the headstones, silently searching for Karen Wilkinson and hoping, yet dreading a glimpse of my mother’s name on the stone.

Something pulls my attention away. A faint tinkling sound. I look up at the bell hanging over the door to the tiny chapel.

I don’t know why, but the bell is pulling me in. I start walking toward it, finding my way out of the graveyard and walking around to the front door. I stop at the foot of the stairs.

A white door, slightly ajar, beckons me. The wood has been whitewashed over, but it’s old and splintery. I’ve seen this door before!

A cold feeling goes through me as I realize where I’ve seen it. Running through the dark forest in a cold place with no sound, something chasing me. And at the end, I find a door. This door. Always this door. Slightly open, waiting for me to enter.

Cold sweat drips down my back as I stand here frozen. This isn’t real. I’m in a trance. Or I’ve tripped and fallen and now I’m asleep. My eyes start to sting with tears as I look over my shoulder, wondering if the thing chasing me was going to show up.

I will myself to step forward. Maybe whatever is in this chapel is my salvation. I need to find out what’s beyond the door no matter what. I climb up the stairs and stop, terror holding me in front of the door. I can’t hear anyone inside. Only the tinkling of the bell. Without thinking, I reach out to touch the door, placing my palm against the rough surface. A sudden jolt of electricity surges through my hand, shooting up my arm and coursing through my body. I gasp, trying to pull away, but my hand stays firmly in place, stuck to the door like glue.

My body shakes, and I cry out in pain, a ringing buzz rushing through me. Then a white hot POP , and I’m thrown backwards, sailing over the stairs and hitting the ground.

The trees above me blur as my body vibrates from the electrical shock. All I can hear is my shallow breathing . . . then darkness.

I’m running through the woods, my heart pounding in my chest. My ragged breaths echo in my ears as I dart between the trees, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and the thing that’s chasing me.

I don’t know what it is, but I can feel its hot breath on the back of my neck. Every time I glance over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of something dark and twisted, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

I’ve been here before, in this nightmare. It’s always the same, but this time, it feels more real than ever before. The trees are taller, the shadows deeper, and the branches are reaching out to snag me as I run.

And then I see it. A twisted, gnarled tree that looks like it’s been struck by lightning. It’s like a signpost, telling me that I’m getting closer to . . . something.

My mother? My death? I don’t know what’s waiting for me, but I know that I have to keep moving forward even though every instinct in my body is telling me to turn back and face whatever is chasing me.

There is no escape. There’s only the chase, the fear, and the endless woods stretching out before me.