Claimed by My Bully Alpha Chapter 305

Aurora’s P.O.V

The night air was thick with tension as I looked out the mirror, thunder clashing across the sky in the distance. My fingers clenched and unclenched around the hem of my sweater as I scanned the returning crowd in the courtyard below, my heart lurching every time I thought I saw him—Caleb. But it wasn’t him, not yet.

My eyes were tired from looking, my body exhausted from the hours of pacing, waiting, hoping. When Luna Maya finally stepped forward, her voice calm yet resonant, it was as if the whole pack held its breath in unison.

“The rogues have been contained,” she said, her tone carrying a mixture of pride and exhaustion, “and the warriors will be returning victorious.” A chorus of relieved murmurs rippled through the gathering. My lips parted, but no sound came out. She wasn’t done. “But first,” she added, “the healers need to inspect every warrior. We can’t celebrate until we know our own safety.”

I felt a cold, heavy weight lift just an inch off my chest, only to be replaced by a new kind of anxiety. So Caleb was okay. He was coming back. But what state would he be in? The worst-case scenarios painted themselves behind my eyelids every time I blinked. Bloody bandages. Lifeless eyes. What if he was badly wounded? What if he took a hit meant for someone else?

“Aura,” Caroline’s soft voice broke through my spiral of worry. I turned and met her eyes—warm, patient, and filled with a kind of maternal care I hadn’t known I needed. She had Riley’s tiny hand in hers. He was rubbing his eyes, clearly ready to crash after a long night of excitement and fear. “Why don’t I take this little troublemaker to his room with me?” she offered gently, brushing a hand through his messy hair as he leaned into her. “We’ll do a sleepover. He’s been asking for stories about flying wolves. I’ve got plenty to tell.”

“But—” I started, feeling the immediate sting of guilt. I didn’t want to abandon him. It was my job to hold him close, especially now. But Caroline held up her hand before I could continue.

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “I know Caleb’s out there. I know you’re dying inside not being able to see him, touch him, know he’s safe. And I know you won’t be able to rest tonight until you do. Riley will be just fine with me. Let me do this for you.”

I looked down at Riley, at his sleepy eyes and flushed cheeks, and then back at Caroline, whose offer was more than just a favor—it was a gift. One I hadn’t asked for, but desperately needed. I crouched and cupped Riley’s little face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Be a good boy for Caroline, okay?” I whispered, and he nodded, already half-asleep as he clung to her hand.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’ll see him tomorrow with good news,” Caroline reassured me, giving my arm a squeeze.

“Go. Wait for him. I’ve got this.”

As they walked away, I stood there for a long moment, watching them until they disappeared behind the cafeteria doors. My limbs feel heavy but determined. Slowly, I turned and made my way back to my room. It felt like the quietest walk of my life—just me, the still night, and the quiet hum of hope in my chest. Every creak of the wooden floor under my feet was a reminder that I was alone for now, but not for long. I passed through the hallways like a ghost, nodding

silently to the few others who were doing the same—those who were also waiting, aching for someone to return.

When I finally closed the door behind me, I sank onto the bed without even turning on the light. My hands trembled a little as I pulled the throw blanket around my shoulders. The silence was oppressive, but I didn’t want to fill it. I wanted to hear every footstep that might echo down the hallway. I wanted to be able to leap up the second I heard his voice—or maybe even just felt him, the way I always did when he was near.

I stared at the door, half-expecting him to walk in any second, bloody and tired, but smiling, just to tell me it was over—that he came back, just like he promised.

The storm outside raged like it had been born of some ancient fury, something that had slept too long and finally decided to tear the heavens open in protest. I hadn’t even seen the clouds roll in earlier, hadn’t heard the first distant grumble that usually serves as nature’s warning. It had come without a whisper—just bam, and suddenly the wind was howling like a beast set free.

My fingers clutched the thin blanket wrapped around my shoulders as the cold began to creep into the room. Every thunderclap rattled my bones, and every flash of lightning made me flinch like a frightened child. I wasn’t usually like this. But something about this storm…it felt wrong.

I tried to push the feeling away, tried to tell myself it was just the change in air pressure or the cold or maybe the way my imagination always liked to go wild during weather like this. But it wasn’t that. No, it was like something—or someone—was watching me. Breathing beside me. Invisible. I didn’t want to look. I really didn’t want to look. But my legs moved anyway, bare feet padding softly against the stone floor as I walked toward the tall, arched window.

I pressed my palm to the cold glass, and my breath fogged it almost immediately. Outside, the courtyard was drenched and restless. The guards were still walking their patrols, heads ducked against the rain, moving with unusual purpose. Their movements felt frantic, almost like they were searching for something, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they knew. That they had felt it too.

And then… something moved.

It was quick, like a flicker at the edge of the woods where the tree line loomed thick and black. The lightning came again and for just a heartbeat, the world lit up silver—and I saw it. Floating. Floating, not walking. A dark, shadowy figure that hovered above the wet earth like it wasn’t

even a part of this world. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could hear it.

I blinked rapidly, convincing myself I’d imagined it, that it was just a trick of the storm and the lights and my own racing thoughts. I rubbed my eyes, took a shaky step back, and leaned closer again, squinting into the blackness beyond the glass.

But it was gone.

I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding, pressing a hand to my chest as if that could still the erratic beating of my heart. “You’re just tired,” I whispered to myself, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the cracks. “You didn’t see anything. You’re just—”

The next bolt of lightning cracked so close that the window actually shook, and I screamed—not because of the sound, but because of what I saw.

The figure was there.

Not in the woods this time. Not far away. But right outside my window.

Its face—or what was left of a face—was skeletal, and hollow, and those eyes… those red eyes burned through the glass and into me like they could see every inch of my soul, every secret I’d buried. My knees buckled and I fell backwards with a loud, graceless thud onto the cold stone floor, the breath knocked out of me. I scrambled back, heels slipping against the floor as I tried to put distance between me and that thing—that creature—watching me.

I just sat there, frozen, trembling, unable to do anything but stare in horror as the thing slowly raised its long, skeletal hands. The fingers were impossibly thin, too long, bent at disturbing angles, and they moved with a kind of sickening grace. Like they knew what they were doing. Like they were about to reach through the window, through the very walls if they had to, and take me.

All I could do was stare helplessly at the figure, as that storm outside drowned out the sound of my own heartbeat.