The chosen ones.

chapter 14.

I'm at the payphone
Trying to find home.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

When Maelle got home, she headed straight to the parlor, only to find Scarlette lounging on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine. As soon as Maelle stepped in, Scarlette's eyes flicked up, and she smirked. "Why did you come home so late?" Scarlette's voice dripped with disinterest, yet there was something dangerous lurking behind her tone.

Maelle didn't bother turning around. She dropped her bag on the floor and replied flatly, "You've never given a damn, Scar, so why the hell are you pretending to care now?"

Scarlette blinked, taken aback by the harshness in Maelle's voice. It had been a long time since Maelle had spoken to her like this. The tension in the room thickened instantly. Scarlette, however, merely laughed-a cold, mocking sound that cut through the air. "Oh, Maelle, don't flatter yourself. I don't actually care if you get lost or disappear. I'm just trying to avoid the annoying questions I'll have to answer when someone comes looking for you. It's really more of a convenience thing."

Maelle remained silent for a moment, letting the acidic words sink in. But then, with a calm voice laced with venom, she responded, "Just like pretending doesn't suit you."

Scarlette's smile faltered, her whole body stiffening. The words hit her harder than she'd expected. Maelle simply walked past her without sparing her another glance. Scarlette stood frozen, her mind racing. Could she have seen me? The thought flashed in Scarlette's mind, but she quickly dismissed it, shaking her head. No, that's impossible.

---

The next day, a storm was brewing. Dracon had made up his mind about something significant, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his conversation with Maelle the previous day. He recalled the tension in her eyes, the strange emptiness in her expression as she had approached him.

*****

"Hey, can you spare a moment?" Maelle had asked, her voice devoid of emotion. Dracon had been curious but cautious. There was something unsettling about the way she had looked at him, like she was carrying a burden too heavy to bear. They had walked a little distance away from the others, and then Maelle had dropped the bomb.

"Look, I don't know how you're going to take this, but I think Scarlette was the human who was with Tiberah that night."

Dracon had stared at her in disbelief, his brain struggling to process her words. "Do you even know what you're saying? Scarlette may not like Tiberah, but there's no way she'd go that far. She's your sister, Maelle. She's not capable of something like that."

But Maelle had only sighed, a dry, humorless sound. "She's my sister, yes. But I know what she's capable of. You don't."

With that, Maelle had pulled out the necklace-that necklace, the one Dracon had given Scarlette on their two-month anniversary. The sight of it had sent a shockwave through him. It was irrefutable evidence. A deep anger had started boiling inside him, uncontrollable and raw. His wolf had risen to the surface, ready to break free and tear Scarlette apart.

"Hey, don't do anything stupid," Maelle had warned. "If you ask me, I'd suggest something less... dramatic. Break up with her. That'll hit her harder than anything. It'll make her realize she never really had you."

Dracon had nodded, the anger still simmering but tempered by Maelle's suggestion. "You're right. It's time to end it."

---

The next morning, the classroom was buzzing with energy. The students could feel the tension in the air; they knew something big was about to happen. Dracon entered, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Tiberah, who was sitting at her desk with her AirPods in, lost in her own world.