Claimed by My Bully Alpha Chapter 403

***Aurora’s P.O.V***

The moment I heard that shattering sound, my heart skipped a beat. I turned instinctively—and there she was. Maggie. Her knees buckled as she fell, her face contorted in pain, her hand gripping her arm so tightly it was turning white at the knuckles.

“Maggie!” I gasped, a sickening twist curling in my stomach as I saw the crimson beginning to stain her sleeve.

Blood. There was so much of it.

“Ashton!” I called, already rushing forward, my boots skidding against the floor as I dropped beside her.

“Maggie, hey—hey, look at me. You’re okay. I’m here,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, though my hands were already shaking. Ashton was at my side in seconds, and Alice too. Maggie was whimpering, her face pale and glistening with sweat, her body twitching every time she tried to move.

Alice sighed, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and kneeling beside her. “This is why precision matters,” she said, not unkindly, but firmly. “The spell obeys intent. It doesn’t care about ego.”

But then I saw it—tiny, jagged glass shards glittering in the skin of her arm, embedded deep and scattered like cruel little crystals. My breath caught. I knew this wasn’t an accident. The way the glass had landed, the angle, the placement—no one else was that close except...

I turned to Alice, my voice cold despite the panic inside me. “What the hell did you do?”

But Alice didn’t even flinch. “Ashton, take her. Now. Get her to the infirmary.”

He hesitated. And that’s what sent me over the edge.

“Don’t just stand there!” I shouted, snapping at him as I felt my chest constrict with fear. “She’s bleeding, Ashton! That glass could cause an infection, or worse! GO!”

He looked torn for a fraction of a second longer before nodding and scooping Maggie into his arms, her pained cry sending another spike of panic through my chest. She buried her face into his shoulder, and I could see the trail of red dripping from her fingertips.

“Hang in there, Maggie,” he whispered as he bolted toward the infirmary.

Alice moved to follow, and so did I, but I turned once, just once, when I caught movement in the corner of my eye. Avery.

She stood frozen, like a ghost pressed into the shadows of the woods, her eyes wide, her lips parted but silent. She looked... terrified. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as if shielding her own ribs from some unseen blow.

“Avery,” I said, my voice gentler now, even though my nerves were still buzzing and my mind was racing.

“Are you okay?”

She blinked, slow and unsure, like someone pulled from a dream. “How did that happen…” she said, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think she’d—she just said that spell…and then the glass…”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, though I wasn’t sure if it really was. I didn’t have the full picture yet, but the way Alice had acted, the timing of it all... It didn’t sit right.

“Just breathe. Let’s get to the infirmary first and see how Maggie is doing.”

The walk to the infirmary was quiet—too quiet for what we’d just been through. I kept glancing sideways at Avery, my heart tightening at how she kept rubbing her arm and avoiding my eyes. She looked pale, shaken in a way that didn’t just come from physical exhaustion. I didn’t press her right away. Sometimes silence offers more comfort than questions. But I couldn’t help it. I had to know she was okay.

“You sure you’re alright?” I asked again, my voice soft, trying not to startle her.

She hesitated, and I could see it. That slight hitch in her breath, the way her lips parted but didn’t form the words immediately. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her jacket before she nodded, the motion small, barely there.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Before I could say anything else, she looked up at me with that raw concern in her eyes. “Will Maggie be alright?”

I stopped walking for a moment and turned to face her fully, resting my hand gently on her shoulder.

“She’s got a few scratches, that’s all. Nothing too serious,” I said, holding her gaze so she could hear the certainty in my voice. “The doc will fix her up. She’ll be complaining about training again in no time.”

That seemed to ease her a little. We resumed walking, our footsteps echoing in the corridor, and soon the sharp antiseptic scent of the infirmary filled the air. I spotted Ashton instantly. He was pacing just outside the main treatment room, arms crossed, jaw tight. As soon as he saw us, his eyes locked onto Alice, and he strode over with that unmistakable mix of frustration and worry.

“Alice,” he said sharply, “how the hell did Maggie get injured like that?”

Alice stood still, her hands behind her back like a soldier trying to stay composed. She met his eyes, but I saw the flicker—just for a second.

“Her concentration may have faltered for a moment,” she replied, her voice clipped and controlled. “That’s likely what caused it.”

I narrowed my eyes, watching her carefully. It didn’t sit right. The way she said it... too rehearsed. And it wasn’t just the words. It was the way her shoulders tightened just a bit more after she spoke, how her gaze dropped ever so slightly—not in guilt, but in frustration. She was lying. Not outright, but definitely not telling the whole story.

Ashton exhaled roughly and ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit! I can’t believe she messed up such a simple spell!”

Alice just nodded silently, bearing the weight of his words without a retort. Avery clung to my side, watching them both with wide, wary eyes. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and leaned in close enough so only she could hear.

“Maggie is going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, then looked past me toward the room Maggie was in. Her fingers clenched a little tighter.

“Do you want to go in and see her?” I asked.

“I… not yet,” she whispered. “I need a second.”

I squeezed her hand again and nodded. Ashton had already turned away, resuming his pacing, and Alice stood rooted in place, staring at the door like it held all the answers she wasn’t willing to say out loud.

And me? I just stood there, heart pounding, because something about this felt bigger than a simple training accident. And I wasn’t going to let it go until I knew the truth.