Ronan noticed it the next morning.
Not right away. Just little things.
Calla wasn't at her usual table during breakfast. He figured maybe she was running late — she did that. Or maybe she was avoiding him. He did that.
But then she stumbled into first period.
And he do mean stumbled.
Eyes bleary. Hoodie pulled low. Skin pale like she hadn't slept. Like she hadn't even rested.
She didn't crack a joke.
Didn't tap her pencil to a beat.
Didn't even glance in his direction.
"Well," the wolf murmured in the back of his head, "either she's hungover, possessed, or dying."
Ronan clenched his jaw. Not funny.
She looked… wrong.
Like the color had been drained out of her.
He leaned over. "You okay?"
Calla blinked at him. A long beat passed before she nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Just tired."
"Lie," said the wolf.
Second period, she skipped.
So did third.
Ronan checked the nurse's office — empty.
Checked the cafeteria. Her dorm hall.
Nothing.
By evening, he found her behind the library, slumped against the wall, sipping half-melted iced coffee like it might revive her soul.
"You look like roadkill," he said.
She gave him a weak smirk. "Cute."
He crouched in front of her. "Seriously. What's going on?"
Calla didn't answer right away. Just stared past him, eyes glassy. "Do you ever feel like… something's sitting on your chest? Not like panic. Like something heavy. Like you're walking through syrup?"
He didn't like that.
Not at all.
"You've been tired before," he said slowly. "But not like this."
She rubbed her eyes. "It's probably just stress. Or lack of sleep. You know, because I don't know how to leave things alone."
"Also true," said the wolf. "But this smells like magic, not burnout."
He could feel it too, now that he was close. The air around her was off. Thinner. Like she was leaking something vital, and no one else could see it but him.
"What did you do?" he asked.
"I didn't do anything."
"Calla."
"I just looked, okay?" she snapped. Then winced. "Sorry. I just… I went to the science building. I thought maybe I'd find something."
"What did you see?"
"I don't even know. A circle. Maybe blood. Something weird. And there was someone there. Or… something."
"Circle," the wolf repeated. "Yeah. That'll do it."
"You touched anything?" Ronan asked.
"No. I mean—maybe. I don't know. I got a text telling me to run."
He swore under his breath.
"You think I'm cursed?" she asked suddenly.
He met her eyes. "I think something followed you."
Her mouth parted, but no words came out.
That night, she didn't walk home alone.
Ronan walked her back, even though she said she'd be fine.
Even though he was scared.
Even though the wolf whispered, "It's not just her now. Whatever it is, it knows you too."