Chapter 7 Chapter 7

Henna's Pov 

"Physical Education," Ulric says, gently nudging me forward. "A bit more intense than dodgeball, I promise."

That didn't look like physical education to me, and to be compared to a dodgeball, I beg to differ but this looks so strange that I can't help but be reminded of the fact that I may have actually walked into a movie.  I swallowed when those boys sensed me looking and turned to look at me, Ulric snatches me away quickly. 

"You don't look at everyone like that, people notice when you stare," he says a bit like a warning and I just did nothing but nod my body, but my head didn't stop wondering why, why they turned so sharply with the eyes I didn't seem to understand or read. 

As we pass a group of girls standing by a marble fountain, the air temperature seems to drop. They aren't wearing the standard school sweaters; they have silk scarves and jewelry that looks older than the building itself. They don't just look at me,  scent the air. Their nostrils flare, and then they exchange a look of pure, unadulterated disgust.

One of them whispers something, and the others let out a laugh that sounds more like a growl than anything feminine. 

"Why are they looking at me like that?" I mutter, leaning closer to Ulric. "Are you a hotshot around here, seems like they want to carve me out for being around you " 

"What do you think?" He asks, "Don't look at them, just focus on what I'm trying to show you." He said but that didn't satisfy my curiosity or make me feel a bit comfortable. 

A group of girls walked past and one of them bunched their shoulder into mine that I nearly wince out in pain. I turned and she didn't look like she is ever stopping to say sorry for what she did. And it hurts, I feel like my shoulder is dislocated. My hand flew to my shoulder, while Ulric looked down at me. 

"Don't worry about the girls, they're in the North Wing," Ulric says, his smile not reaching his eyes this time. "They’re just... picky about new blood. Did you get hurt?" 

"No, I'm fine." Even when I want to ask what the hell he meant by North Wing, he had mentioned that earlier about the west wing too. What the hell is a wing doing in this school? But then again, it's how this academy is going to be like. Maybe that's how they divide their sections.  "Over there is the Refectory, that’s where we eat. Don't go there alone for the first week. People here can be a bit territorial about their seating." 

Territorial. There’s that word again. " Why?" I ask and he turns to look at me. He should see how totally confused I am right now. 

"Because everyone is territorial about who they sit with and who they shouldn't. You don't want to get in trouble in your first week, do you?" 

I know that it is the moment not to probe again, we climb the grand staircase where the banister feels like cold, polished bone. My hand trembles slightly as I grip it. Every student we pass has the same look: an intense, predatory grace. They move like they’ve never tripped in their lives. They look at me like I’m a glitch in their perfect, elite system.

I don't think I'm that welcomed in this school. I said to myself, 

"And finally," Ulric says, stopping in front of a heavy iron-bound door at the end of a long, sun-drenched hallway. "The Principal’s office. Mark is... well, he’s a bit of an enigma. But he’s the one who signed that letter of yours."

He turns to me, his blue eyes softening for a second. "Look, Henna. Stay close to the people you know. Me. Andre's sister, Amira. Even Andre, if you can catch him when he’s not being a prick." He say coming so close that I can feel the somersault in my chest travelling down to my stomach. 

What is this feeling? When he looks at me like that, I can feel my gaze dropping to his lips, no matter how hard I try to look away, I'm always ... "But I will still need to make new friends." 

"You can make new friends when you're settled into the school, everyone in this school is not really that generous to strangers."

" I can see that already from the way they look at me, like I'm a speck of dust." I say and he smiles. It looks like he smiles more often than being angry or frowning. How those smiles strangely eases me. 

"Once you get settled into the school, all that won't matter anymore. For now, stick with me. Not anyone else, but me..." He says and I'm very sure, I heard my own thump of my heart, the heartbeat racing recklessly that I can barely breathe. 

"You're here," he shrugs, reaching for the door handle. "The principal's office."

He pushes the door open and we walk in together into the office that was entirely as massive, just like a book description from a novel, a man is sitting behind a mahogany desk, he looks up from a stack of files, his face sharp, handsome, I have noticed one thing about this academy, everyone looks like they are sculpted by a private artists. They must be admiring students according to their looks. 

His eyes meets mine and he sighs before taking a nod, "Thank you Ulric," he says, "I will take it from here. You can leave." 

Ulric turns to me, "I'm waiting outside," he says as he walks out of the room. And I am left with the principal who starts looking through files. 

"Henna Garret," Mark murmurs, leaning back. He doesn't look at my file; he looks at me, as if he’s trying to read the thoughts inside my skull. "I trust the border gave you no trouble?"

"The car wouldn't cross it," I say, my voice sounding smaller than I’d like. "But a student... he brought me in on his bike."

"Andre, I suppose?" Mark asks before his lips twitch into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "Well, what matters is that you're here. I'm glad you made it, we've been expecting you for a long time." 

"Expecting me? I only applied a few weeks ago." I reply. 

"Fate works faster than the post office, Henna." He says sounding too over familiar that I wonder why, he stands up and walks around the desk. He is so tall, like everyone I have seen, is equally tall, now I ask again: do they only admit tall people? Like only tall handsome well sculpted men are allowed into this school? And goddesses for girls and women are allowed to school as girls or teach in this school?

"You’ll find Gray Ridge is different. We value strength, heritage, and... discretion. You are the first of your kind to be admitted here in decades."

"Because I'm not an elite?" I ask, my brows furrowing. "I'm just a foster kid from Seattle. I don't have a 'heritage'." 

Mark lets out a low hum, his gaze lingering on the necklace I always wear, the only thing I have from my biological parents. "Heritage isn't always something you're told about. Sometimes, it’s something you have to survive."

He hands me a heavy silver key and a thick leather-bound folder. "Your schedule. Your room is in the East Wing, Room 302. You’ll be rooming with an Omega named Caroline. She’s... quiet. You’ll find her easy to get along with."

"An Omega?"