Chapter 3: Olivia

Predators.

That’s what I’m surrounded by. No matter how nice this office is. No matter how pristine their suits are.

I cannot forget that with just one bite, all four members of the council have the power to end my life.

And they will.

Or… most of them will. One offers me a sympathetic smile, and he has the same black hair and kind blue eyes as his son, Hunter.

The legendary Dillon West.

Principal Watson sits between the 4 council members, staring at me like he can’t believe I’m real.

“Miss Blackwood, apologies for making you start the semester so late. We only wanted to make sure you turned 19 before we let your… deal set in.”

I shift in my seat. My deal? Right. Cause I had so much of a say over whether these animals fucking kill me.

A woman with a pinched face scrunches her nose at me, “You are a strange thing aren’t you? Whose stupid idea was it to let you into Lycroft?”

“Watch your mouth, Roanna.” Dillon snaps, surprising me.

He leans forward, smiling sorrily, “Don’t mind them, Olivia. Tell me, have you met Hunter?”

I try not to think about his son’s toned hands and all the things they can do to me, “Yes sir, I have.”

“Excellent!” Dillon beams, “Hunter is a top student, and he welcomes everyone. Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.”

“But not safe with the rest of us.” The last person in the room warbles.

He’s so ancient that he has to be at least 200 years old, “I hope Alpha Rick reminded you of the rules? What happens when you fail?”

I clench my hand, “If.”

“I’m sorry?” The man quirks his brow.

“If I fail, sir. Not when.”

There’s a second of silence, and I immediately regret speaking.

But then, Roanna bursts into laughter, “Foolish girl! Lycroft is the top werewolf academy in the world. You really think you’re going to pass every class? Combat? History? Sex and mating ed? All Ricklan achieved by agreeing to this deal was buy you some time. In one year, you’re done.”

“That’s enough, Roanna!” Principal Watson growls, and she leans back smugly. I feel like my ears are bleeding.

“I only need to pass 3 of my 5 units to graduate.” I breathe out. I’m shocked I’m breathing at all, “Alpha Rick told me that.”

“Maybe for normal students,” the old man interjects, “But you are different. Human. You must pass every class. Every test. Even the ones that don’t count toward your final grade. Those are the rules.”

I nearly fall out of my chair.

I look between the 5 of them, hoping for one to scream “April fools!” in my face.

All they do is stare back.

My clenched fingers start trembling, and it takes everything in me to blink back my tears.

No one has ever passed every class. Ricklan told me only one student this year is close to achieving that. But no one has ever done it.

Dillion frowns slightly, “I think Miss Blackwood has had enough for one day. Maybe we should let her settle down.”

Settle? No. I need to go home. To Alpha Rick and his stupid rules. I was safe there. I had a place there.

Here? It’s only slaughter.

Principal Watson sighs. Before he even finishes saying, “You may go.” I jump out of my seat so fast that it falls behind me.

I rush for the door, and Roanna’s cackle follows me close behind.

Once I’m out, I back into a random wall, closing my eyes and trying to catch my breath.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die…

“Is that her?” Someone whispers. Someone I haven’t heard before.

I snap my eyes open and startle at the presence of students, enough to fill the entire corridor.

All looking at me.

Hunger. Rage. Disgust. In the few eyes that catch mine, that’s all I see. No kindness whatsoever.

I straighten, tightening my fist around my blazer. This cannot be happening to me. Goddess, why me?

“Give the girl room, people!” Dillon yells. Before I finish blinking, they’ve all disappeared.

I relax a little, but not enough to forget their collective look of hatred.

.

“Mr West.” I greet, trying to keep my voice steady.

“None of that Olivia, just call me Dillon.”

I nod, whispering, “Dillion.”

He smiles again at me, in that sad way he did in the office. Then, he pulls me aside.

“Don’t let miserable Roanna or old Abel discourage you. You can do this. Your father always talks about how well you’re doing. He believes in you, and he was Lycroft’s top graduating student back in the day so he should know.”

I sniffle and nod at Dillon, even though I’m already mentally writing my Will.

He kneels till he’s eye level with me, then fishes something out of his brown blazer.

For a moment, I think it’s candy, like I’m some sad child at the dentist, but then he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper: a letter.

I take it from him carefully. No one writes to me. The only person I knew before Lycroft was Rick, and he wouldn’t send a letter.

But then I catch the name on the front, and my eyes widen: Quinn Willow.

My birth mother.