ask. According to the textbook all those years ago, I’ll need some sort of lessons to ready myself for a fated mate pairing, and I’m not sure that’s exactly doable.
“I will come up with your schedule, taking the recommendations from Jonah and the Lunar Pack Council into account.”
I shake my head. Human history should tell us shifters that this sort of control is bad for the population. Nothing good ever came from it. “You’re going to decide what I do here? So, as my other wolfpeers are going to school for real education toward occupations, I’m going to suffer through, what? Etiquette classes?”
“If you need them, yes,” Ms. Ebon remarks. “Among other things. Every wolf who comes here is different. Many times, we don’t have a particular set schedule that every wolf takes. We still have general education courses, by the way. It’s all in that manual. Remember that the sooner you leave here, the sooner you can assimilate back into regular wolf society and go to the University your wolfpeers are attending.”
On second thought, I’m not so sure I want to go to the University with all those assholes. It might be nice here with a little bit of freedom from everyone. And new people. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t know everything about me.
“We have a fair graduation rate,” Ms. Ebon continues. “Seventy-five percent of wolves are accepted by their mate within the first year.”
At this moment, that favorable figure doesn’t help. I can’t imagine Jonah ever accepting me. In fact, my back still aches from his body slam. “How many wolves are cast out?” I refrain from using the word Feral as it always makes an icy sliver of fear cut down my spine. The idea of living that way has always taunted me since I was a pup.
“Twelve percent, Miss Walker. My personal number is much lower than that, and I’m not going to let you ruin my statistics. I expect you to conform. I expect you to try. I expect you to do everything in your power to get Jonah Livestrong to listen to his internal feelings instead of his brain. Do you understand?”
My lips thin. Everything in me says it’s wrong that I have to try—that we’re even having this conversation based on something I didn’t do and had no control over. On the other hand, the consequence is nothing short of life-ending.
“I understand.”
She stands briskly. “Excellent. Let me show you around, then.” She reaches for the file folder in my lap and leaves me to take the thick notebook of rules and regulations. A painted picture of Greystone Academy covers the front. It’s a shame such a horrible place is so freaking pretty.
I stuff the booklet in the lone book bag I brought with me. I was told to pack a separate bag that would be forwarded to my room. Despite myself, a nugget of intrigue blooms in my stomach. I’ve never been away from home. Never been away from the harsh comments and constant arguments. This seems like a way to start a brand new life.
Ms. Ebon opens the door, and I follow her out into the hall. “Pick up your discarded clothes, Miss Walker.”
Trailing the clipped sound of her heels bouncing off the hall, I pick up the scraps of fabric, placing everything in my book bag, and race to catch up to her.
She shows me the common areas first. The cafeteria and gymnasium are huge, at least five times the size of Lunar Pack School. The juxtaposition of old world with modern flares makes everything seem so foreign. “No one is allowed on the first floor after seven p.m.,” Ms. Ebon instructs. “There are common areas in the different wings if you would like to socialize. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but there is no sexual fraternization of any kind. If you’re caught doing so, both of you will automatically be cast out. It’s not a problem we usually have since your instinct will forbid it, but it has happened.”
“Well, there goes my plan for tonight,” I joke.
Ms. Ebon stops, and I almost run into her backside. She turns yellow eyes on me. “That is the worst threat to our kind. I don’t find that funny at all.”
I nod once, feeling the dread in the pit of my stomach boil up. Trust me, I get the whole we-need-to-mate-with-our-bonded-one-so-we-can-prolong-our-race thing. It’s another reason why I’m certain I’m the product of a mated pair. If I wasn’t, I