Chapter 14-The Same Rules

Odett’s POV

  “The rules have not changed,” Dad reminded us in a firm tone as he tapped the locked drawer.

  “You are organizing communication records,” he continued.

  “You are not investigating the attacks themselves,” he finished sternly.

  “We understand,” Joshy promised with a respectful expression.

  “And we are not contacting anyone named in the reports,” I added patiently before Dad could repeat the second rule.

  “Especially Sam,” Dad said with a pointed look.

  ‘He enjoys that rule too much,’ Lorilie complained with a low growl.

  Mom came for us when all three of us missed the first call to dinner. Before Dad locked the folders away, he asked Joshy and me to explain the routes without our notes. Joshy remembered the order of the warnings; I remembered who had known about each attack at the time. Together we could explain the recorded delays and identify where an account still left a gap.

  “That is why leadership teams train together,” Mom said with a proud smile after we finished.

  Dad gathered the reports into the locked drawer.

  “It is also why neither of them receives unrestricted access,” he replied.

  “You almost sounded proud,” I teased with an amused smile as he checked the lock.

  “Do not become reckless,” Dad warned, although the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

  ‘He is proud,’ Lorilie said.

  The next morning, Joshy and I met in the Academy library to plan the pack we hoped to create one day. We had no land or pack house yet, and no family had promised to join us. Our instructor still wanted draft laws, which left Joshy and me arguing over how anyone would get a voice.

  Joshy wanted a small council capable of making quick decisions during emergencies. I wanted representatives from every species living within the pack so our laws would not be written only from a wolf’s perspective.

  “A large council will take forever to agree on anything,” Joshy warned with a frustrated frown as he looked over my proposed positions.

  “A small council will miss things that do not affect its members,” I argued while pointing toward the species protections in our notes.

  “Then we need both,” Joshy decided with a thoughtful expression after considering the problem.

  We drew up a small council to deal with immediate danger and a broader one for laws and resources. The people affected would review every emergency decision afterward. Joshy liked how quickly the smaller group could act. I kept looking at it and wondering how easily a temporary arrangement could become permanent if nobody challenged it.

  Choosing those representatives proved harder. Appointing everyone ourselves would make the council look independent without giving anyone a choice. A single election might leave a smaller species without a voice. We crossed out half a page and began again.

  “What if each community chooses its own representative?” I suggested with cautious interest as I turned to a clean page.

  “The wolves would choose a wolf, the witches would choose a witch, and every other group would decide who could speak for them,” I continued thoughtfully.

  “That works until a community cannot agree,” Joshy replied with a doubtful frown.

  “We need a way to stop one empty seat from delaying the entire council,” he added practically.

  I tapped my pencil against the table while considering the problem. A temporary representative could attend without voting until the community made its decision, but that person would still be allowed to explain concerns and request more time. Joshy added a deadline so temporary positions could not quietly become permanent appointments.

  Then we had to think about when people could meet. Some vampires could not attend in daylight, witches had coven rites, and water-based residents might need an enchanted room or a way to join from home. Each answer made our imaginary pack feel a little more like a place real families could live.

  “Building a council chamber is going to cost more than building the pack house,” Joshy complained with tired amusement as our list continued growing.

  “Only if you insist on putting everything in one building,” I countered with a thoughtful smile.

  “We could rotate ordinary meetings between community spaces and reserve the main chamber for emergencies or decisions affecting everyone,” I suggested.

  Joshy considered the idea before drawing three smaller circles around the larger one on our planning map. Rotating meetings would force leaders to visit the people affected by their decisions instead of expecting every concern to arrive at the pack house. It also meant our future guards would need security plans for several locations rather than one, which Joshy added to the growing list with a defeated sigh.

  By the time we packed our books, the council had ways to choose representatives, question emergency decisions, and keep an empty seat from silencing a community. We had not made disagreement disappear. We had made room for people to disagree and still be heard.

  Sam’s team faced the same problem. They needed to move quickly, but someone who knew each territory had to show them where they could actually go. I thought of our bridge on the map. Send help across the wrong one, and the people we meant to rescue would still be waiting on the other side.

  When the final bell rang, the twins met us outside with Sean and Gaven. They had spent the day in their own first-year classes and knew nothing about the reports Dad allowed Joshy and me to organize. Zerina carried three books, Sean carried two maps, and Gaven carried the notes from the battlefield-assessment plan their team had finally completed.

  Zander carried nothing.

  “Why does everyone else have your work?” I asked him with a suspicious expression as we started toward the castle.

  “I provide emotional support,” Zander answered with a proud grin.

  “He lost his bag,” Zerina corrected with an irritated look.

  “Temporarily,” Zander insisted with an offended expression.

  Gaven tried to hide his laugh behind the rolled battlefield plan, while Sean calmly reminded Zander of the three classrooms they still needed to search. For several minutes, we were only students walking home and complaining about assignments. The twins argued about whether losing a bag should count against Zander’s teamwork score, and Joshy offered to help look for it after dinner.

  Then a Royal Guard vehicle passed us on the road toward the castle. The driver did not slow before turning through the gates, and the guard in the passenger seat held a sealed case against his chest. Joshy’s expression changed as he watched the vehicle disappear into the courtyard. The younger group continued arguing ahead of us, unaware of why the arrival mattered.

  Zander was still arguing about his missing bag, and Zerina threatened to search his room herself. I wanted to stay in their conversation, but I had lost track of what he was saying. My attention had followed the guards inside.