Chapter 12
Elena’s POV
“She doesn’t look very good or strong. I don’t know what King Harvey is thinking. How can he let a human become our luna?” The teacher, a woman in a simple red dress with sleeves mutters under her breath with a frown as I walk to the spare seat closest to the door on the left side of the room.
The frown stays on her face as I take a seat.
I know I’m not welcome here, and she is not accepting me as her student. I grit my teeth to stop my trembling. Every glowing eye in the room is pure malicious intent.
With her pulled back brown hair in a shell-like bun around her head, she moves to her desk and clears her throat. Clinically, she moves to the massive green board and pulls out a metal baton and smacks the board.
“Before I was interrupted,” she announces. “I was saying, the power of a werewolf…”
She begins to speak faster as I do my best to write down the notes on the board. The red journal that King Harvey gave me from his personal collection has a golden binding and the same wolf from the pen, engraved on the cover.
Will this make me stand out?
I have no time to worry as I scrawl notes quickly.
I have missed half the information regardless of how fast I wrote.
Exhaling heavily, I fight back a torrent of tears.
I hadn’t heard the snickers from the other werewolf students, they can even write faster than me and think faster.
I feel as if I am on another planet.
The teacher blankly looks up at me when she notices I am staring at her. She loudly flipped through her book a few times then slammed it down on her desk. With a malice-filled smile, she opens her mouth to ask me a question.
My blood runs cold.
“Elena, human.” The teacher spits at the word human. “Do you know how werewolf blood works?”
“…it keeps the body alive?” I try to answer in a soft whisper.
The teacher rears her head back and laughs, almost howling. A toothy fanged smile that seems to be an endless gaping maw.
I shudder.
I just want to lie down and die at this point.
“How does she not know?” The student with the red glasses as she flips her hair.
Her friend beside her snickers. “This is common junior high knowledge.”
The student in the red glasses almost laughs out loud. “Why did King Harvey pick her?”
“Who knows!”
“Elena, why, oh, why are you supposed to be our luna?” The teacher whispers in a hiss. She extends one long clawed finger at me. “The werewolf blood, human. Flows through the body quickly. It aids with healing rapidly, thought, speech, controlling of fangs. We can control how the blood flows through our bodies for heat retention, regulation and in battle. The faster the blood flows, the stronger we are, the faster we heal, the faster we move. It is all part of our mental state. We are warriors. Elena, what are humans?”
The only answer that comes to mind as she glares at me flies out of my mouth.
“We are weak.”
They all break out in an uproar of laughter at my answer, going as far as to applaud my reply. My face burns red, and I wish I could vanish off the face of this planet. I crumble the thin textbook in my hands and bury my face in it to not show my tears.
Can they smell my tears?
The bell rings as loudly suddenly and they all rush off to the next class. I leave the room last.
A few doors down, is a massive room that is the size of three classrooms put together. There are red plush bleachers and a thick red mat on the floor.
I have just barely survived the Knowledge of Werewolves 101 and now I am in a fighting class.
The teacher, a woman in a black tank top and red pants stops me at the door.
“Humans are not allowed to take fighting lessons.”
I force back the bile in my throat. “Why?” I try to remain as respectful as possible.
She gazes down at me coldly, then laughs mockingly. A tone of indifference coats her words.
“Your physical fitness level is far too weak. You should go to a human playground.”
The human playground is outside, rusted and overflowing with garbage.
My classmates waltz past me with ease, laughing loudly at my hopeless situation.
A male student in black with slicked back hair deliberately bumps into my shoulder. I move forward with his attack and say nothing.
“Oh, oops.” He mocks cruelly.
The student with the red glasses saddles up beside us and laughs. “Derek, the marking ceremony will be held on the night of the full moon next month. Aren’t you afraid she will retaliate against you when she becomes a luna?”
The other students break out in a chorus of laughter as Derek snarls.
“King Harvey must have picked her on a whim. She won’t be our luna in the end. I promise.”
Why am I here then? Just to be bullied? I didn’t expect life here to be so bad.
A glance into the empty hallway helps me decide it is best to walk away and go relax on campus. Have a free period and think if I should be here. My discomfort fills my body with every echoing step. Walking by classroom door after classroom door, I hear howling laughter.
Most every student is a werewolf here. It must have been the mindlink that informed them all I am here. That explains the endless laughter.
When the doors begin to swing open and crowds of students’ swarm to the doorway to stare at me, I tremble against their malicious eyes. I try my best to remain walking straight and tall to not look too weak or embarrass myself.
The elite school has a massive area, and I walk down the hallway until I open the door to the back of the school and discover an expanse red stadium.
Thunderous applause and cheers fill my ears.
“King Harvey is gorgeous!!” A chorus of beautiful wolves’ cry as they surround the fence excitedly, bouncing up and down as they stare attentively into the center of the stadium.
Following their gaze curiously, I find that King Harvey is mentoring several werewolf students in a row. These are the ones that had the potential to become Betas.
King Harvey suddenly steps back as five students morphed into wolves and coordinated a running attack on King Harvey.
They obviously want to prove themselves.
King Harvey fends off the attack with two wide circular motions of his arms, sending them back a few feet with slight force.
“Your cooperation is well thought out. The use of power is terrible.” King Harvey explains as one student rebounds and rushes to him. He sends him back with a simple kick to the stomach.
The student huffs and takes a seat.
“If you were in a real battle, you would have been killed a long time ago.”
Studying King Harvey closely, I see he is withholding power just by his open stance. His chest moves in a slow yet steady beat. He is restraining himself greatly.
I heard that several students are already the best in elite schools.
King Harvey is so well trained, and his strength is so powerful that he easily deciphers their attacks without transforming into his wolf form.
This blow is a heavy one on these students; they all look down with ashen faces. Greatly discouraged.
The other werewolf students stare at King Harvey with great love and pride shining in their eyes.
I watch as a blond woman my age carries a bottle of water to King Harvey. Her friend follows closely. The black fur collar she wears matches his exactly, and the red lipstick is the same shade as his cloak.
My heart melts to the pit of my stomach.
Leaning closer as my hands begin to shake and sweat, I hear:
“Go tell King Harvey what is on your heart… maybe you can replace that human as our new Luna!” The friend moves back to her seat to give her blond friend privacy but not before blushing.
I choke back a sob.
