6 - room eight

JAMIE

I stared into those dark eyes, still shining with amusement, as if he had just won some bet I didn’t even know I was playing.

It irritated me.

This boy is really getting on my nerves.

I took a step back. Then another, putting some distance between us before my wolf decided to do something stupid on her own.

“I didn’t want to touch you,” I said, the anger obvious in my voice. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted my things back, since you took them without permission. And now I’m done wasting time with you. I have class.”

He laughed.

Loudly.

He even covered his mouth with one hand, as if he needed to stop himself from laughing harder.

“The little wolf is getting angry,” he said shamelessly. “I like you better this way.”

I didn’t answer.

He wasn’t worth it.

Still grinning, he turned away and tossed over his shoulder as casually as if he were giving me the weather:

“Room Eight.”

Then he walked away, hands in his pockets, never looking back.

It took me a second to understand.

I looked at the paper in my hand, at the number written across the top, and felt my stomach twist.

Room Eight.

“Oh, absolutely not,” I muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What are the odds?”

Since I didn’t know a single hallway in that place, and that idiot clearly knew exactly where he was going, I had no choice but to follow him from a safe distance, cursing every step of the way.

When I finally reached the right classroom and stepped inside, every eye turned toward me.

I stopped for a moment and let them stare.

Go ahead.

I slowly scanned the room.

Children of important families. Impeccable uniforms. Confident postures. The kind of wolves who had probably never had to fight for anything in their lives.

One of them could be the traitor.

One of them could know exactly who had killed Thomas.

One of them could even be the person who gave the order.

I’ll find out which one of you it is.

I found an empty seat at the back and walked toward it, ignoring the whispers already spreading around the room.

As I bent down to put my bag on the floor, a voice rang out loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“So you’re the new girl?”

I turned.

A light-haired she-wolf was staring at me with an expression dangerously close to disgust.

“I didn’t know the academy was accepting criminals now,” she continued with a thin smile. “Well… your father is one, isn’t he?”

My blood ran cold for a second.

Adrian.

She was talking about his past. The smuggling, the trial, everything Thomas had done to protect Adrian.

But no one here knew the truth.

Just what I needed. Some idiot running her mouth on my first day.

First, the arrogant boy in the hallway.

Now this she-wolf, calling me a criminal as if she knew anything about me.

As if she knew who I really was.

I wanted to cross that room and wipe that smug smile off her face.

But not here.

Not yet.

She’ll get what she deserves. Soon.

I took a slow breath and kept my voice calm.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t believe everything I heard.”

She gave a quiet, irritating laugh.

“My sources are reliable. And honestly, I can tell exactly what kind of person you are just by looking at you.”

I didn’t answer.

She wasn’t worth another word.

Instead, I glanced across the room.

And there he was.

The idiot from the hallway.

Sitting lazily in his chair, quietly laughing.

He had heard every word.

Of course he did.

Before I could react, firm footsteps echoed through the hallway.

The entire room fell silent.

The professor walked in.

Several girls around me immediately sighed, their eyes lighting up with the kind of ridiculous admiration I had never understood.

Then I looked at him.

And, for a moment, I understood.

He was handsome.

Far too handsome.

Tall, straight-backed, and serious enough to make the entire room feel smaller. There was something cold about him, something controlled, as if nothing in that classroom could shake him.

He introduced himself and wrote his name on the board.

Andrew.

I watched him carefully.

Every movement.

Every expression.

This professor could be involved.

Or maybe not.

His eyes moved slowly across the room as he acknowledged the students with the slightest nod.

Then his gaze reached me.

And stopped.

My heart suddenly accelerated.

For a reason I couldn't understand.

I swallowed as he took a few steps toward me.

I couldn't look away.

“So,” he said, his voice low but firm enough to fill the room, “you’re Jamie Blackwood. The new student.”

“Yes,” I answered.

My voice came out quieter than I intended.

What is wrong with me?

He simply nodded, then walked back to the board as if nothing had happened.

“Welcome, Jamie. I’ll go over the semester’s material. If you have any questions, ask.”

I nodded and quietly thanked him.

Around me, the she-wolves continued watching me with contempt, whispering among themselves.

But the boy from the hallway had stopped laughing.

His expression was suddenly serious.

His eyes moved between Andrew and me, as if he were trying to understand something that even I couldn’t explain.

I get it now.

Nobody here likes me.

Fine.

I hadn’t come to Silverhowl to be liked.

I had come for answers.

I had come for the person who killed Thomas.

And when I found them, I would make them pay.

Every single one of them.