Ronan didn't mean to become a campus legend.
But apparently, punching two toxic idiots in one day was all it took.
The video hit the student forum by morning.
First from some shaky phone footage. Then edited. Reposted. Captioned with things like "Quiet Guy WRECKS Two Jerks in One Day" and "Calla's Mystery Man Has HANDS."
By lunch, people were stopping him in the hallway.
Grinning. Slapping his shoulder.
"Bro, that was epic."
"Where'd you learn to hit like that?"
"You're joining the basketball team, right?"
Ronan blinked at them. "What?"
A tall guy — captain of the team, probably — stepped in, smiling. "We've been watching the video, man. You've got presence. Speed. You're intense. That's what we need on the court."
Ronan started to shake his head. "I can't—"
Calla grabbed his arm suddenly.
They were just outside the library.
"Actually," she said, smiling at the team, "he can. Go with them."
Ronan blinked. "Wait, what—?"
She leaned closer. Quiet voice. "Think. If you're with me, they'll hide. We need to be sneaky. You showing up with fists and fury isn't gonna help now."
His jaw tightened. "You want to go alone?"
"No," she said. "I need to."
She paused. "Besides… I'm good bait. Right?"
Ronan didn't like it.
But the wolf was quiet.
That meant something.
"Fine," he said. "You're back here in an hour. No more."
"Deal."
He watched her walk away — ponytail swaying, hoodie sleeves pushed up, chin high like she wasn't walking straight toward danger.
The basketball guys dragged him off before he could change his mind.
Calla made her way across campus, cutting through the science wing and into the older side halls.
Professor Lorne's office was in the west tower — quiet, a little too quiet, tucked away like it belonged to someone who didn't want to be found.
Her heart pounded louder the closer she got.
The halls felt stretched. Like shadows moved before she did.
And the air… tasted wrong.
Like old metal and wet leaves.
Still, she knocked.
A pause.
Then: "Enter."
The door creaked open.
Lorne sat behind his desk — pale, calm, precise.
Calla stepped in.
Just her.
No Ronan. No backup.
No safety net.
"Miss Darnell," Lorne said without looking up. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I figured I'd stop by," she said. "I've been looking into some… old projects. Wanted to ask a few questions."
He looked up.
Smiled.
But it didn't reach his eyes.
"I see," he said softly. "Curiosity. A powerful thing."
Her skin crawled.
Meanwhile, Ronan sat in the gym, listening to sneakers squeak and guys argue about plays.
He wasn't paying attention.
He was thinking about Calla.
Thinking about how quiet the wolf had been.
And what that meant.
"She's strong," the wolf said finally. "But she's not safe."
"What do you mean?"
"The leech knows. It smells the trap. And it's not the only thing watching her now."
Ronan stood.
Without a word, he left the gym.
In Professor Lorne's office, the air had grown colder.
Calla tried to stay steady.
Tried to keep smiling.
But her hands had gone numb.
And behind Lorne's desk, the shadows on the floor weren't following the light.
They were moving on their own.