Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Atlas’ POV

*****

It had to be him. It just had to be.

That was the only thing that was making sense right now.

Azrael Vaelmont was a vampire and was responsible for killing Miss Benedicta and now this cleaner.

Yet even as he told himself this, he couldn’t help but look at the different angles here. Firstly, what was Azrael’s endgame if truly he was what he said he was?

Yes—Atlas had indeed stuck around long enough to hear the man confess to Luther that he was a vampire. Of course, the Alpha didn’t believe him and joked around with the idea.

But Atlas knew better.

And now the truth was weighing heavily on him.

"What do we do now?" Celeste’s concerned question when they got out of the administrative wing pulled him out of his mind. "I know I said we should watch and wait but... how do we even do that?"

Atlas angled his head to her. Despite how dire their current situation was, he found himself smiling when he remembered the deed they’d partaken in before coming to the Dean’s office.

Celeste had a renewed fire that thrilled him—

—It was unfortunate he couldn’t dwell on the pleasure when the academy felt like it was caving in on them.

"As usual, we report anything suspicious amongst ourselves," Azrael was the one who spoke, his voice even. "No more confronting the Dean until we have solid proof."

At the mention of that Luther grumbled, looking away. "But what about those files you discovered in his laptop before we went on vacation? The one with the encrypted call logs received during every terrible incident so far."

Oh... that’s right.

Azrael had discovered things of some importance before they left. Given it wasn’t enough to blackmail the Dean or anything, it was at least a lead.

’Wait,’ Atlas’s brows knitted. ’Could he have been lying about those encrypted call logs back then? To throw us off from suspecting him?’

It’s been a while since something sounded so far-fetched yet so plausible to him.

"As I said then, those were barely enough," Azrael shook his head. "Besides, I didn’t take any pictures or transfer the files."

Luther sighed. "Right. Because you have the technology knowledge of a nineteenth century grandpa."

Vaelmont ignored the petty jab as they kept on walking.

Soon, they got to the academy’s residential buildings. Dusk was fast approaching and most classes were over. Laughter, chatter and the general sound of activities carried into the evening air.

"Celeste!" A familiar and particularly cheery voice coming from behind them made them all turn as one. As expected.

Willow Feywin.

However, as Celeste’s best friend ran to her with nothing but pure excitement, many students turned their attention to the group.

Whispers about them began circulating soon enough.

"It’s Atlas."

"And Alpha Luther."

"Even the academy’s princess — where have they been for the last two days?"

Atlas bit back a sigh.

Good old Bloodoak Academy.

"You came back already?" Willow spread out her arms for a hug.

As the two friends hugged, Atlas exchanged a glance with Luther. While keeping an eye out for Azrael.

The so-called vampire looked completely neutral.

"Yeah." Celeste parted her hair when they broke the embrace. "We got back like an hour ago." Then she paused, head spinning to meet the curious eyes of the students around them. "I’m guessing nothing much happened while we were away."

Willow’s face flashed with guilt. "Oops. Did I draw too much attention with my yell just now?"

Celeste shook her head. "It’s fine. They were all bound to notice some of the Academy’s most popular students were away."

An awkward laugh broke past Willow’s mouth. That caught the attention of the whole group.

"Uhm," the wolf rubbed her face. "They didn’t just notice. We also saw you on social media and the news."

"Social media?" Luther repeated. "Wait... are you talking about—?" 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"Hey, Celeste?" A random female voice joined them just then. It belonged to a petite girl whose aura made Atlas know she was a witch. "Quick question. When that Vein beast in Montecito called you ’Child of chaos’ what did it mean?"

Another girl, gaining sudden confidence, rushed to stand beside the petite one. "Yeah, and what were you guys doing there anyway? When did you leave?"

"Did the Dean know about it?" A gasp. "Did he send you guys there?"

By the spirits.

The questions multiplied like pests.

"Is it true the beast bowed to you?"

"Did your magic power increase?"

"Did you almost level the town?"

Azrael stepped forward before Celeste could open her mouth.

"That’s enough." His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Something in the air shifted with it. "You’ll all get your answers when they’re meant to be shared. Or never at all. Give her space."

The girls instinctively took a step back.

Atlas didn’t miss the way Luther’s jaw flexed at that—or the way Azrael didn’t look at him.

He placed a hand on Celeste’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Go to your suite," he murmured close to her ear. "With Willow. Get off the grounds for the night if you can."

She frowned. "Atlas—"

"We’ll handle this," he said gently but firmly. "You don’t need to stand here being interrogated."

Her eyes searched his for a second. Then she nodded.

Willow wrapped an arm around her and guided her toward the dorm entrance, throwing one last suspicious glance at the crowd before disappearing inside.

More whispers followed them but Atlas didn’t stay.

He walked away before anyone could stop him, ignoring the stares burning into his back. The academy lights flickered on as dusk settled fully, shadows stretching longer than they should.

.

.

Once inside his suite, he shut the door and locked it.

Silence.

He crossed to a shelf most would probably assume held ordinary grimoires and reached behind a false backing.

Wood shifted with a quiet click.

From the hidden compartment, he pulled out three old, leather-bound volumes.

Titles etched in faded ink.

Ones he hadn’t touched in years:

Treatises on Necromancy.

If vampires truly existed and were draining bodies. If someone was manipulating death itself... Then perhaps the answer wasn’t with the living.

Perhaps it was with what lingered after.