Chapter 4

Damon’s POV

“The Red Room can’t be explained,” Corwin smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “But we can show you what it is.”

Before I could even process the warning in his voice, we were already being led down a series of freezing, pitch-dark corridors. The cold bit through my skin, through my bones. It wasn’t normal—not even for us. Werewolves weren’t supposed to feel the cold like this.

“What the hell is this place?” Kael hissed, teeth chattering despite his body heat. “From the name alone I thought we were walking into a torture chamber—lava floors, maybe an electric chair in the middle... something dramatic.”

That earned another round of snickering from the Alpha boys—Corwin, Valen, Zarek, and Lucan. Their laughter echoed eerily off the stone walls before they finally halted and shoved us toward a massive glass window.

We all leaned in—and the air caught in my throat.

Beyond the glass lay something straight out of a dream: a crystalline lake shimmering under soft sunlight, fish dancing in the water, cherry blossoms drifting through the air like enchanted snow, ancient boulders resting beside delicate reeds.

“This might be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” I whispered. For a moment, I forgot who I was, where I was, why I was even here.

But Draven shattered the spell with one sentence.

“No,” he said, voice grim. “It doesn’t feel right. The fish... they’re jumping in synchronized patterns. That’s not natural.”

Lucan let out a low whistle and nudged Zarek. “You’ve got a sharp one in your crew.”

Kael and I exchanged a grin. “You should’ve seen him trying to outsmart his nerd crush back in Diamond Ville,” Kael snorted. “Didn’t end well.”

Draven growled. “Shut it, both of you.”

And then—chaos.

Strong arms shoved us forward and into the room. The door slammed shut behind us. The second it clicked, everything inside the Red Room changed.

Gone was the peaceful lake. Gone were the blossoms, the swans, the illusion.

Winds howled through us with a soundless roar, twisting our bodies like we were caught in invisible wires pulling from every direction. Vibrations wracked our spines—so fierce I felt my bones jitter. My sensitive ears seared with pain. My balance failed. My knees hit the floor.

We weren’t in paradise.

We were in a storm no eye could see.

Every second felt like a hundred knives sliding under the skin.

And then, suddenly, it stopped.

Stillness. Dead silence.

The door creaked open. We lay on the floor, groaning, our muscles twitching from the backlash.

Valen stared at us, stunned. “You guys lasted ten whole minutes?”

“We’re alive?” I croaked, blinking up at him.

“Technically,” Lucan muttered.

“You’re stronger than most,” Zarek said thoughtfully. “But that was just Level One.”

“Level One?” Kael wheezed, still flat on his back.

“What’s in Level Two?” Draven asked.

The Alphas laughed.

“That’s the one that breaks actual Alphas,” Zarek said, a haunted shadow crossing his expression. “We don’t take rookies there. Not unless we want broken minds.”

I swallowed hard.

The Red Room wasn’t a punishment.

It was a weapon.

“It plays with perception,” Zarek added as we slowly sat up. “This school doesn’t whip students or put them in chains. It uses mental overload. Emotional dissonance. Sound, vibration, illusion—all turned against your senses until your brain snaps.”

“But our bodies were hurting too,” Draven frowned. “That wasn’t just mental.”

“Good catch,” Lucan nodded. “The vibrations are laced with energy—magical energy.”

Kael blinked. “Is that... a Vampire spell?”

“Bingo,” Corwin smirked. “Stole it right out of Victor’s bloodline. Actually, it was Virelle’s grandmother who cast the first one during her term as Headmistress.”

My eyes widened. “You mean our Luna’s grandmother?”

“And your Alpha’s too,” Valen said with a nod. “Your whole Diamond Heart crew caused enough chaos back then that the spell was installed permanently. Fun legacy, huh?”

Draven grinned. “Guess that makes my Dad legendary.”

“You’re not wrong,” Lucan chuckled.

I sat back, breathing finally beginning to steady. My limbs still trembled, but the pain had started to fade. We’d been to the edge of something awful—and lived.

“I wonder what the girls are up to,” I muttered, glancing at the time. “Class starts at ten, doesn’t it?”

“Crap, you’re right,” Zarek said, suddenly serious. “Come on—we’ve got the same courses. Let’s move before the staff finds a reason to send you back into that room for being late.”

“Being a room monitor doesn’t sound fun anymore,” I muttered, stumbling forward.

Zarek just grinned. “Welcome to Asheville.”