The Council's Order
I hated the Council Hall.
It smelled like wet stone, old wolves, and bad decisions.
Every step echoed as I walked toward the giant circle carved into the floor. Twelve elders stood around it, each wearing the silver wolf crest over their hearts. Their glowing eyes followed me like I was already guilty of something.
Which, to be fair...
...I usually was.
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket and stopped in the center.
"So?" I asked. "Who's dying?"
Elder Rowan sighed.
"Must you begin every meeting with sarcasm, Grey?"
"I've tried silence before. You all hated that too."
A few elders hid smiles.
Others looked ready to throw me into a river.
My eyes wandered over the room. Everyone else could see the colorful banners hanging from the ceiling.
Red.
Blue.
Gold.
At least...
That's what I'd been told.
To me, everything looked like shades of white, gray, and black.
Always had.
The world had never been colorful.
Just endless shades of ash.
Elder Rowan cleared his throat.
"Grey."
"What?"
"You are sixteen."
"Unfortunately."
"You've spent your life inside the territory."
"Because humans are annoying."
"You've never attended school."
"I can read."
"That isn't the point."
I frowned.
"Then what is?"
Every elder exchanged the same look.
The kind adults give each other before ruining your day.
"You will begin attending Hawthorne High School on Monday."
Silence.
I blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
"You heard us."
"No."
"Yes."
"I absolutely did not."
"You will attend."
I laughed.
Nobody joined in.
"Oh, you're serious."
"We are."
I pointed toward the massive forest outside.
"We have all of this."
"Correct."
"Wolves."
"Correct."
"Training."
"Yes."
"Hunting."
"Yes."
"And you're sending me..."
I stared at them.
"...to algebra?"
"It's called blending in."
"I'd rather be mauled."
One elder leaned forward.
"You've already survived that."
My hand instinctively reached my left bicep.
The scar.
The mark looked like a wolf had dragged four claws across my arm years ago.
No one knew where it came from.
Neither did I.
I only remembered waking up in the woods covered in blood when I was eleven.
The scar had never faded.
Sometimes...
It burned.
"You've asked us before," Rowan said quietly.
"'Why me?'"
I nodded.
"You deserve answers."
Hope flickered inside me.
"So you'll finally tell me?"
"No."
Hope died immediately.
"You'll find them yourself."
"I hate cryptic old people."
"We know."
"So... school?"
"School."
"I refuse."
"You have no choice."
"I can literally turn into a wolf."
"And yet you will still attend math."
Cruel.
Unbelievably cruel.
I groaned loudly enough for it to echo through the chamber.
"This is wolf abuse."
"It's education."
"Same thing."
The meeting was over before I could argue anymore.
Typical.
—
Monday arrived far too quickly.
Humans.
There were so many humans.
Cars.
Noise.
Perfume.
Cheap cologne.
Lockers slamming.
Everyone talked at once.
It felt like my ears were being attacked.
I adjusted my backpack and walked through the entrance.
Every hallway looked the same.
Gray floors.
Gray walls.
Gray lockers.
Gray people wearing... probably colorful clothes.
Lucky them.
Someone bumped my shoulder.
"Watch it."
"I literally was."
He kept walking.
Humans.
The office handed me a schedule I barely looked at.
Room 214.
Great.
I wandered through crowded halls until I found the classroom.
Students filled nearly every seat.
The teacher glanced up.
"You must be Grey."
"Unfortunately."
"You can take the empty seat in the back."
I turned.
Someone was already sitting beside it.
Black hair.
Sharp jaw.
Orange eyes.
Actual orange.
Even though I couldn't see color...
Those eyes glowed strangely against the gray world.
It was the only color I'd ever truly noticed.
Weird.
He looked up.
Our eyes met.
Something...
Shifted.
A sharp ache exploded through my left arm.
I grabbed my bicep.
The scar.
It burned.
Not warm.
Burned.
The boy glanced at my arm for less than a second before looking away.
Like he didn't care.
I sat beside him.
Neither of us spoke.
The teacher started talking.
Five minutes passed.
Then—
"You breathe too loud."
I looked over.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I literally haven't said anything."
"I know."
His voice was flat.
Cold.
"I can still hear you."
I stared.
"You're kidding."
"No."
"What kind of problem do you have?"
"You."
"...You don't even know me."
"I don't need to."
Wow.
He really was an asshole.
"I'm Grey."
"I didn't ask."
"Your name?"
He sighed dramatically.
"...Johan."
"Nice to meet you."
"No."
"No?"
"It wasn't."
I smiled.
Mostly because I knew it'd annoy him.
It worked.
His eye twitched.
Success.
Class ended.
I stood.
"So, Johan—"
"Leave me alone."
"I was literally just—"
"I don't care."
He shoved past me.
Hard.
I stumbled into a desk.
Something inside me snapped.
"Hey!"
The classroom went quiet.
Johan stopped walking.
Slowly...
He turned around.
"What?"
"You think you're tough?"
"No."
"You've been insulting me all class."
"And?"
"And I'm getting tired of it."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
"You?"
His eyes scanned me from head to toe.
"What exactly are you going to do?"
The scar on my arm burned again.
Hotter.
Hotter than before.
"I'll show you."
I lunged.
Students screamed.
Someone yelled, "Fight!"
Johan didn't even flinch.
He caught my wrist before I landed a punch.
His grip was impossibly strong.
Too strong.
His orange eyes narrowed.
For the first time...
He looked surprised.
Just for a second.
Then it disappeared.
He shoved me backward.
I stumbled but stayed standing.
"You really don't know when to quit."
"I hate you."
His expression hardened.
"Good."
For reasons I couldn't explain...
That answer hurt far more than it should have.
And somehow...
The scar on my arm kept burning.
