by Noelle Marie
“Bastian was only fifteen when it happened and Caleb and I were the only members of the Prince pack who chose to stay under his leadership. When Bastian finished school with Markus and Zane, they both joined. I wasn’t shocked when Zane approached Bastian; he and his family were in the Prince pack before my parents died. But Markus,” she shook her in fond exasperation, “he was a bit of a surprise.”
Katherine listened as Sophie explained how Zane and Markus had joined Bastian’s pack – the Prince pack, apparently – but she was stuck on the fact that their parents were dead. Morbid curiosity demanded that she ask how they’d died, while empathy – some strange sort of kinship due to what had happened to her own parents – insisted she keep her mouth firmly shut. Before one could win out over the other, the sound of a loud car horn once again pierced the air. She groaned. “Guess I should go.”
Sophie nodded, “Good luck and have fun at school.”
The luck she was sure she would need, but based on what Sophie had said about recruiting and competing, she was fairly certain that fun was out of the question. Nonetheless, she grabbed the satchel Caleb had burrowed her, walked out the door, and clambered into the passenger seat of the running SUV parked in front of the porch.
Bastian didn’t acknowledge her, but waited for her to strap in, at least, before taking off down the same dirt road she and Sophie had traveled yesterday morning. Neither Katherine nor Bastian broke the heavy silence as they cruised through Haven Falls and took a left onto a slightly wider road. Within minutes, they’d arrived at a large brick building with a small collection of rusted cars parked haphazardly in the tall grass on its right.
Katherine could only assume this was the school.
Bastian stalled the SUV in front of the building’s white double doors. As subtly as she could, she turned and glanced at the man. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Some sort of instruction? A wish of good luck similar to Sophie’s? Heck, even a simple good-bye? Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t for the man to be directing his blue eyes forward, resolutely refusing to meet her questioning gaze.
Katherine sighed. He was intent on throwing her to the wolves then.
Har. Har. Get it? Throwing her to the wolves?
Apparently, the higher her anxiety, the lower her standards of humor.
Katherine reached for the passenger side door handle, readying herself to exit the vehicle, when Bastian finally spoke to her. He grabbed a red folder she hadn’t even noticed had been laying on the dash and shoved the stapled papers inside of it into her face. “Here.”
Startled, Katherine took the papers. She looked down at them. The piece of paper on top appeared to be her class schedule.
Werewolf History8:00AM – 9:00AMRoom 112
Algebra9:00AM – 10:00AMRoom 204
Free Study10:00AM – 11:00AMLibrary
Lunch11:00AM – 12:00PMCafeteria
Pack Dynamics12:00PM – 1:00PMRoom 210
Mating Rituals1:00PM – 2:00PMRoom 106
Physical Education2:00PM – 4:00PMGymnasium
Katherine gapped for a solid minute. Pack Dynamics? Mating Rituals? How sick was it that the only classes similar to those she’d been taking at Middletown were Algebra and P.E. – her two least favorite subjects. And apparently, P.E. was two hours long here.
If only Katherine was narcissistic enough, she’d almost believe the universe was conspiring against her.
She forced her eyes to abandon the schedule Bastian had handed her and turned toward the man. She must have looked really pathetic because he actually attempted what she suspected was supposed to be a reassuring smile. Even if it did come across as more of a grimace.
“You’ll be okay.”
Katherine couldn’t help but cling to those words and repeat them in her head in an encouraging mantra. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.
“Just to the right of the entrance is an office. Go there. The school’s secretary – her name’s Juliana – has arranged for another student to give you a tour of sorts.”
Katherine waited a few more seconds to see if Bastian had anything else to tell her. Sensing the dark-haired man was done talking, Katherine nodded jerkily and shoved the schedule and other papers into the her bag. “Thanks,” she said, finally opening the car door and stepping out of the SUV.
Before she could fully shut the door behind her, however, Bastian leaned over the passenger seat and stopped the heavy metal from closing. “Markus will drive you home at four,” he informed her gruffly.
Katherine froze, her mouth half-way open and her eyes wide in a wonderful impression of a deer caught in headlights. Or, at least, she assumed it was a wonderful impression based on the way Bastian’s lips quirked in amusement before he finished shutting the door, revved the engine, and took off.
Katherine’s incredulous expression slowly transformed into a glowering frown.
Well, wasn’t that just grand?
Forcing herself to concentrate on more pressing matters than Markus, she hesitantly trudged up the walkway – actual concrete – to the school’s double doors and proceeded to follow Bastian’s instructions.
To Katherine’s shock, the inside of the school looked like… well, a school. Linoleum floors, narrow hallways crammed with pale blue lockers, and open doors that led to classrooms full of desks. The smell of Lysol, chalk, and teenage hormones permeated the air.
A few kids secreting said hormones – they looked a bit younger than her, maybe thirteen or fourteen – blatantly stared as she entered the building and made her way to what was apparently the school’s main office.
A tall redhead with severe eyebrows greeted her as she entered the room’s glass doors. “You must be Katherine.”
“And you must be…” Katherine frantically tried to remember the name Bastian had given her,”…Juliana!”
The woman smiled, but it looked painful – forced. “I prefer Mrs. Wright actually.”
Katherine felt the blood rush to her face, and she cursed Bastian in her head. Before she could apologize or embarrass herself any further, however, she heard another person shuffle rather hurriedly into the small office. Mrs. Wright tore her eyes from her form as she shifted to welcome the newcomer. Her smile, though, remained just as ingenuine.
“Melanie, there you are. I was just about to send out a search party.”
Katherine turned to face this Melanie person. The first thing she noticed – to her utter delight – was that she actually appeared to be normal-sized. She was lithe and Katherine’s height – maybe even a bit shorter, though it was hard to say for sure. Katherine was wearing heeled boots in a desperate attempt to boost her meager stature.
“Sorry I’m late,” the girl immediately apologized before her eyes drifted to Katherine. “Hi,” she offered, her lips stretched into a friendly smile.
“Hey,” Katherine responded, still taking in the girl before her. She was pretty in an understated way. Her dark hair was parted in the middle and cut into a chin length bob. The style suited her thin face, out of which her equally dark eyes shone intelligently.
“Melanie,” Mrs. Wright addressed the girl, “this is Katherine. Katherine, Melanie. She’s going to show you around the school today.”
“Come on,” Melanie insisted as soon as the woman finished introductions, grabbing Katherine’s elbow and dragging her into the hall, “I’ll show you to your first class before the bell rings.”
Before Katherine could ask the girl how she even knew what her first class was, Melanie was rolling her eyes and gesturing towards the office with her free hand. “Evil, old witch,” she muttered.
Katherine immediately snorted – equal parts amused and shocked. Once she recovered from the surprising comment, however, she pulled her arm out of the girl’s vice grip. “How do you know where my first class is? I haven’t even shown you my schedule.”
Melanie’s eyebrows inched upward. “I know because your schedule is the same as mine. All sixteen years olds have t
he same one. It makes sense since there’s little more than twenty of us.”
“Oh,” Katherine said faintly.
And she’d thought Middletown High was a small school.
Melanie reclaimed Katherine’s elbow and ignoring the strange looks they were getting from their peers, led her down two hallways to Room 112.
“History’s not too bad,” the girl assured her as they entered the tiny classroom that was packed with books. “Mostly Mr. Sinclair just likes to rant. As long as you look like you’re actually paying attention and nod when he starts getting especially loud, you should be alright.”
That sounded somewhat ominous.
Before Melanie could impart any more advice, however, the bell rang – its loud bbrriinngg causing Katherine to jump – and the skinny girl pulled her towards one of the desks in the back of the room and sat next to her.
Apparently, there were no assigned seats. That, at least, Katherine could appreciate about this school.
She sat tensely as she watched teenagers that she knew to be her age – even if most of them were much bigger and taller than she was – enter the room. A few didn’t seem to notice her, but most immediately spotted the new face in their mist. Of those that noticed her, some immediately dismissed her. Others let their eyes linger over her form with curiosity.
Fabulous.
Katherine felt as if she had the words fresh meat markered on her forehead. Uncomfortable with all the scrutiny, she ducked her head and used her curtain of hair to hide as best as she could. Not before she saw a particularly tall girl with long platinum blonde hair sneer at her though.
For a brief second, Katherine could have sworn it was Mallory Flanders. The girl’s eyes were too blue, though and her cheekbones, too sharp.
It was a crazy thing to think anyway.
Before she could dwell on it further, Mr. Sinclair plodded into the room. Like everybody else she’d encountered thus far in Haven Falls – with the exception of Melanie – he was tall. He wore a plaid shirt with its sleeves rolled up, exposing his hair-covered forearms. “Hey guys,” he greeted amiably enough before searching the sea – okay, more like a puddle – of faces before him. As soon as he spotted her, he grinned. “Ah, Katherine is it? Why don’t you come up here and introduce yourself to the class.”
Katherine glared at Melanie, who shrugged. She had failed to mention that Mr. Sinclair was sadistic.
Hoping to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, Katherine reluctantly made her way to the front of the classroom. “Hi,” she greeted the room with a sad little wave, “my name’s Katherine.” Having no idea what else to say, she just sort of stood there awkwardly.
Mr. Sinclair, obviously not appeased by the lackluster introduction, began asking questions. “And where are you from, Katherine?”
“Iowa.”
“Oh, and what’s Iowa like? That’s in the states, right?”
“Yes, and it’s dull,” Katherine answered monotonously, knowing she wasn’t making this easy for Mr. Sinclair, but not particularly caring either. She had no interest in sharing her life story.
“Come now! I’m sure it’s more interesting than you’re letting on. What’d you do for fun there?”
She didn’t want to think, let alone talk about Iowa. If she did, she knew an avalanche of depressing thoughts and emotions would overwhelm her. So instead of politely answering the man, Katherine crossed her arms and remained stubbornly silent.
Flustered by her lack of response, Mr. Sinclair began to fidget. “Er, okay,” he stammered. “Why don’t you grab a textbook from the shelf in the back – it’s the green one entitled The Effects of History on Modern Day Werewolves – and grab a seat.”
Refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, she did as she was told and sat back down in her seat next to Melanie. The girl looked like she was holding back snickers at the disastrous introduction. Katherine couldn’t blame her. The look on Mr. Sinclair’s face when he realized she wasn’t going to answer his questions had been pretty funny.
The rest of history class passed quickly. Melanie was right about Mr. Sinclair and his propensity to rant, but he seemed harmless enough. Algebra went by in a similar fashion – without, thank God, Katherine having to make another embarrassing introduction.
During Free Study, Melanie introduced Katherine to her circle of friends. There were Mack and Jonathan, who like herself and she assumed Melanie, were both changed wolves. They were the two shortest boys in their year. There was also Leander, a skinny boy with shaggy auburn hair. And Agnes. Agnes was a bit… blunt. Katherine supposed that was the polite word to use. Melanie explained that everyone in Agnes’s pack acted in a similar fashion. It was the only pack in Haven Falls that was strictly female. Even the alpha. Apparently, female alphas were rare and positively disgraceful in the eyes of the community and Agnes was essentially shunned by most of the other werewolves at the school.
Katherine, naïve as she was about the culture of werewolves, simply couldn’t process what was so outrageous about having a female alpha.
In turn, Agnes took an immediate liking to her. Katherine had yet to decide if that was a good thing.
She’d also met the blonde girl who’d so thoroughly remaindered her of Mallory. She’d approached the table that Katherine, Melanie, and her four friends had sat at in the library and introduced herself as Priscilla Wright, with the fakest, most patronizing smile she’d ever seen on a person. As soon as she said her name, Katherine knew immediately that she must have been the daughter of Mrs. Wright, the redheaded secretary.
At lunch, Katherine had met even more people. She’d been shocked to find out that in addition to teaching werewolves, the school also taught non-werewolves. Just in separate classrooms. The non-werewolves consisted entirely of family members of changed wolves. They’d been brought to Haven Falls with their changed parents, children, or siblings to protect them from hunters. Katherine tried hard not to think too much about that.
There were only two non-werewolves in the school that were close to her age, a sixteen-year-old named Nathaniel and a fifteen-year-old named Penelope. She immediately recognized Nathaniel as the nosy waiter at The Bistro. Both had joined Melanie and her group of friends – and by association, Katherine – at one of the small plastic lunch tables in the cafeteria.
Katherine realized pretty much immediately that she’d somehow been thrust into a group of outcasts – people that didn’t fit in with the other werewolves of Haven Falls and were basically ignored by their peers.
She didn’t think she’d ever been so pleased.
After lunch, Pack Dynamics passed without incident. Katherine actually took an honest interest in the class. Proper interaction between pack members was discussed and she was looking forward to better understanding the duties of the alpha, beta, and even omega of a pack.
And then came Mating Rituals.
It wasn’t until it rolled around at one o’clock that Katherine’s day really took a turn for the worse.
Katherine understood quickly that it was really just a sophisticated sex ed. class. In essence, she’d be learning how werewolves courted one another. Apparently, werewolves mated for life and some pairs were so deeply connected that when one died, the other soon passed. There was even such a thing as destined mates, who were apparently werewolves that just knew they were supposed to be together forever as soon as they saw – or rather smelled – each other. Soul mates, basically, as far as Katherine could discern from the syllabus she’d been handed.
After briefly going over the three major aspects of werewolf courtship – choosing, wooing, and canoodling, as the teacher had charmingly put it – she had informed the class that she was going to pair up all the female students with male students so they could discuss the first stage of courtship amongst themselves – choosing a mate. Basically, Katherine had been told to tell her partner what she was looking for in a husband.
How awkward.
And then she’d been paired with Rip Brigg
s. Rip, like most born werewolves, towered over her and weighed close to twice as much as she did. It was all muscle too – that much was obvious under the boy’s tight, practically see-through, white shirt.
“Alright, little girl,” he greeted Katherine, sauntering over to her desk. “Let me guess, you’re looking for a strong,” he flexed an admittedly impressive bicep, “handsome,” he grinned, running his fingers through his cropped hair, “protector who can provide for you.”
Katherine positively scowled as Rip pulled an empty desk next to hers, plopped down, and proceeded to lean into her space. She immediately moved her desk a good foot away from his. Jerk.
He just smirked at her. “No? Why don’t you tell me then? What are you looking for in a man?” He waggled his eyebrows as he asked her.
Katherine didn’t think people did that in real life. Didn’t he know he looked like an imbecile?
“For your information,” she snapped at him, “I’m not looking for a man. I can take care of myself. But even if I was intent on finding one, he’d have to be intelligent and unpretentious. And in case you were wondering, no. I don’t think you embody either of these particular traits.”
Rip clutched both his hands to his chest. “You wound me.”
Apparently, however, she hadn’t wounded him enough. The irritating boy kept talking. “Anyway, you forgot patient. I don’t care how hot you are, a man would have to have the tolerance of a saint to put up with your smart mouth.” He leered at her. “Don’t worry, though, I have more than one idea on how to put it to better use.”
There was a delayed pause as she processed that.
Then an angry red blush burst across Katherine’s cheeks, spreading down her chest and up to the very tips of her ears. “Excuse me?” she demanded, glaring at Rip.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I look for in a girl?” he asked, ignoring her furious response to his words.
Katherine scowled. “I don’t give a-”