She's with us

RACHEL

“Seize her and drag her out of my presence.”

I heard Miss Lovie’s voice through my haze.

“You are going to be punished for being a liar. Jesus Christ detests bad and lying children. Hence, he wants us to use the rod at all times.”

I could hear my pleas in her response. I had cried, begged, and even clawed at the hands of my captors. Yet, they never let me go, not until Miss Lovie ordered them to, and that was because she was about to start the punishment.

“Ivy,”

I stumbled once more, and my back slammed hard into a solid, warm body. A hand shot out to steady me, turning me around swiftly.

“Let me go, please!” I cried out, struggling in their grasp, but they held onto me, ignoring my cry.

“It's me, Ivy. Calm down. You're alright.” A masculine voice, deep and rough, yet warm, said.

“Breathe, Ivy, you need to,” he instructed, cupping my face.

I did as he said and focused on my breathing. When it returned to normal, I looked up to see who I was in their arms.

My breath hitched as I stared at him. He looked slightly older than I was, towering over me, with broad shoulders and lean muscles. An athlete? Maybe.

He was a part of the people on the platform. I had seen him. He was the youngest of them. I had thought him cold and unfeeling the moment I stepped into the room, because when others had been smiling, a frown was etched on his perfect, handsome face.

And he pinned with storm grey eyes, cold and unreadable.

“Well?”

My thoughts were severed, and my head snapped in the direction of the platform where headmaster Augustus was. He was looking at me.

“I believe we had a disruption before. Do you want to try again?” His lips were stretched in a tight-lipped smile.

No, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I could pretend and nod. I didn't think he liked the fact that had happened, but he looked curious.

My breath lodged in my throat once more, and I began to walk to the stage. But a voice spoke up, stopping me in my tracks.

“She's with us,” my savior said.

Would it be weird if I called him that? I wondered.

“She's in house Ferales. We've got the same symbol she has on her, and I believe the detector is broken and couldn't properly identify her, hence it went crazy.” He added.

I swallowed hard.

Even as he had saved me, I couldn't help but think. This place wasn’t like the human Academy I knew. I might not have been to one, but I’ve read books, and they never explain such a thing happening there.

Staring at the symbol on my hand. It looked like a poorly executed tattoo by an amateur. I couldn’t understand it, and the fact that it looked burnt made it weirder since no one else’s had appeared that way.

I looked at my savior, trying to ignore the sting in my hand. His eyes were trained on Headmaster Augustus. They looked focused and determined.

Why was he helping me? He didn't know if I was the real girl in question, yet he had jumped in on my defence. Headmaster Augustus said nothing. Likewise, the others on the stage only nodded their heads in agreement, and the ceremony continued.

When it was done, everyone was dismissed.

“Thank you,” I said as we stepped out of the room.

He looked at me, cocking one of his brows. His eyes assessed me, and I flushed under his scrutiny.

I bit my lower lip, looking away as he continued to stare at me like he wanted to bring something out. I had never been approached in this manner, especially not by the opposite sex. And by someone as handsome as he was.

He looked around briefly, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. “You're in the werewolf world.” His voice was quiet.

“Werewolf world?” I asked, confused. “Isn't that some kind of myth? Werewolves aren't real. Besides, I am human.”

But his silence provided me with the answers I needed. I wanted him to explain more about how I had gotten here.

He went on speaking, “A room will be prepared for you in the Ferales dormitory. You're welcome to come by whenever you feel comfortable. Class is in an hour, don't be late.”

“Wait, can you explain all these to me because I'm kind of going crazy…” I began, trailing off as I saw him already walking away.

Does everyone here avoid answering questions? The same had happened in the room earlier with that woman, and now it was happening with him.

How do I find my way when I barely know anything? I had merely arrived with other students. I couldn't even tell if I knew my way back to the room I came out of.

Slowly, I retraced my steps back to the room. Although it took a few minutes, I eventually found it. I stepped into the room, going to sit on the bed. Pushing a hand through my hair, I let out a sigh, thinking of what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. It wasn't even up to that yet.

I was lucky not to have been caught today. Because if the headmaster had forced me to try again, they'd surely know who I was.

Now, I had just learnt I was in the werewolf world. Although it was hard to believe, how could a human be in a werewolf world? What was I supposed to do here?

That should explain why I got this tattoo in the first place. Someone must have hexed me. I guessed.

I didn't think it was safe to keep pretending to be her because of the strange thing happening here. They were having a class next, maybe my identity would be exposed there. I could never tell what would happen to me there either.

Perhaps worse than the sorting sanctum, and it would raise their suspicion once more. Yet, I couldn't back down. This looked like the life I wanted. It was fancy, serene, and void of Lucy and my foster parents. I didn't need to run or hide from them when they were near. I didn't need to make any decision either.

That didn't mean I wanted to make an awful one. Still, a life free from them would be perfect. And people seemed to like this Ivy girl.

The door opened, and a girl stepped in. “Hey, you!”

She had shoulder-length, straight, blonde hair, whisky brown eyes, and perfect makeup, stepping into the room unannounced. She must be one of Ivy’s closest friends, and I didn't think it was her first time stepping into the room. I saw the name on the badge of her blazer. Clara.

She hesitated; her eyes were on me. “You got reassigned. You've been in-house at Umbra for two years now and are even about to run for president. But you suddenly switched houses. Is there something happening that I need to know?” she asked, her voice filled with concern and confusion.

“What are the consequences?” She was sure to make it sound like there was one.

I still had concerns about my being here rather than being concerned about being in Umbra, Ferales, whatever they were called.

Clara walked up to me, clutching my arm, and stared at the hideous tattoo, comparing it to the one on her arm.

“I have no idea if there are no consequences, Ivy. But it's unheard of for someone to switch houses in that manner. Although people are coming up with theories about the machine incorrectly sorting you in the first year, as Professor Jaxon had said, it's still a strange phenomenon. No other students except for you switched.”

“But whatever, it'll be sorted out. You don't have to be afraid. I don't think I can bear it seeing you in that house,” Clara gagged.

She hated Ferales. Just like Ruby. Was it a rivalry between the two houses? I wondered.

Clara looked at me funny. “You're quiet. So unlike the Ivy I know.”

I wondered if it would be stupid to ask her to tell me about the werewolf world. What it entailed, the location, and how students like me, who were human, were able to get there.

Clara stepped in front of the mirror to reapply her lip gloss. “Please tell me we are skipping bond ethics and combat theory today,” she groaned out loud, turning to me.

“I can still feel my broken ribs from last time. I don't think I want to experience such anymore.”

“You fight?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“Of course,” she rolled her eyes. “Isn't that what combat theory is all about?”

Was it? I didn't know.

“Then don't go.” I frowned. If she didn't want to go, then she shouldn't groan about it.

“It's compulsory. All classes are, and we're currently behind schedule. Let's go.”

She gripped my hand while I managed to grip the backpack lying on the couch.

We arrived in class, and I slipped into the seat next to Clara.

“Who's teaching this one again? It's a new subject,” Someone in front whispered.

“I learnt one of the school prodigies, recently appointed to be a professor,” another said, his voice dropping lower. “Apparently, this is meant to be a redemption for him after she died–”

The door clicked open, and a hush fell in the class. Then he walked in.

The young professor they were talking about was him—my savior.

For the first time, I really saw him.

His dark hair was tousled, like he'd dragged a hand through it on his way in—careless, effortless, and unfairly good-looking. The hair was the kind of mess that made you think of bedsheets and things you shouldn't be thinking in a classroom.

My cheeks heat up, and I shake my head to clear up the unwanted thoughts. But I wasn't done looking.

His jawline was sharp and strong, but it was his eyes that caught me.

Storm-grey. Piercing, all knowing. Like he'd already read and seen every secret I didn't think I had. Knots formed deep in my stomach. His gaze swept the class, indifferent until it landed on me. And held.

I sucked in a deep breath as the air around me felt heavy and charged. Like lightning just before it strikes the sky.

He didn't smile or look away. He just stared at me, just like earlier…like he knew something about me that he didn't want to share with me or anyone. But he only desired to keep it to himself. Was it possible he knew the reason I was here?