Chapter Six

My first night at the Werewolf Academy was nothing like I expected. Not that I'd had any time to process what would be happening. No, once I'd received my package, it all happened so fast my head was still spinning, figuratively, of course. But I'd found myself far from anything familiar and suddenly possessed of a family. I climbed into bed and cuddled in the sheets and comforter my sister Minx gave me, closing my eyes and letting images of this day play in my mind.

I'd feared Minx and Ava would be a closed circuit in no need of any additional siblings. With little to go on, I'd pictured them as having grown up together with living parents, reacting to me like those of my foster siblings over the years had been treated by their blood families. An unwanted complication. Maybe the result of an affair that nobody wanted to remember or even knew about.

Not knowing my history presented a real handicap in many ways.

And it had taken just about every ounce of bravado I'd learned in the group home to have me show up and boldly announce myself the way I had. If they'd rejected me out of hand, I would likely have turned and walked out of not just the dining hall but the front doors of this fancy building and into the night.

Luckily, I didn't have to find out what might have happened next in that version of my story.

Unlike the kids I'd known in the past, my family embraced me with no questions at all. I learned that they had not known one another either and that we all shared a father who was supposed to be an "original shifter." Since he'd shown no interest in any of us so far, I was able to dismiss him from my mind, at least for the time being.

I'd gone from alone and adrift in the world to having not only two half-sisters but also their mates who all considered themselves my family. Dahlia wasn't a blood relative, but I could see myself being best friends with her. I'd never had one of those either. My past had taught me to expect the worst, but it was hard not to ride the awesomeness at least while it lasted.

I slept through the night, something that had not been the case most places I'd lived up until now. Amy's home excepted. Her benign neglect did not cause me direct harm, and she was not in the habit of bringing strange men home as the previous foster mom had. My move to Amy's came after I had to shift to defend myself from a drunken man who stumbled into my bedroom one night. His trip to the ER for stitches made it impossible for foster-slut mommy to hide what happened.

But on my first full day at the Werewolf Academy, I woke with a panicky feeling that maybe everything in the past days and especially yesterday had been a dream. My heart thudded behind my ribs as I looked around and took in the small but well-appointed dorm room and my raven-haired roomie's black lace sleeping mask protecting her from the ray of sunlight that fell across both our beds. A glance at the clock on the nightstand between us showed I still had a half hour to sleep, but no way was that going to happen.

Quietly, I tiptoed into the bathroom to shower and dress. Although we could wear whatever we wanted, my limited wardrobe was not going to make me the fashion queen of the academy. I did, however, want to look reasonable. My fellow students might not be human like most of my high school classmates, but I didn't want to take a chance on being called out for not knowing how to dress.

Jeans and a long-sleeved knit top in a soft blue, sneakers that resembled a real brand. My hair, a natural platinum I'd often been accused of dyeing to achieve, I toweled and scrunched and let dry without product or appliance. If I did nothing more, it would fall in soft waves. Other styling attempts, I had learned, were a mistake.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Dahlia was up and sitting on the side of her bed with her outfit for the day laid out beside her. Black jeans, black shirt, black bra, low black boots…if she had underwear there, it must have been black because I couldn't see it. Maybe people who wore all dark clothes didn't wear panties? We hadn't known one another long enough to ask.

"About time," she grumped and pushed past me into the bathroom. Okay, roomie not a morning person. Noted.

By the time she came out again, she seemed if not more cheerful at least not as grouchy. Together, we strolled to the dining hall for a quick coffee and sweet roll, and then on to my first classroom door where she left me with a nod and a wave.

And this was it. If I made a good first impression, would I be accepted? I already had my family, which was more than I'd ever had before, but I wouldn't mind just being one of the class. Halfway through the semester, maybe I would have a hard time fitting in or even managing the work?

Math. One of my favorite subjects since elementary school, although I'd learned to keep that quiet in high school when girls who were good at math and science often had a hard time. I wasn't sure why it was great to get the math award in third grade, as a girl, but being on the math team in high school was the social kiss of death.

I hovered at the back of the room while most of the others entered and took their seats. I didn't want to occupy a chair someone else had staked out weeks ago, but as the rows filled up, a familiar face came into view. "Ian, hi."

He blinked and his tense jaw loosened as a smile spread across his lips. "Kiki, you're in here too?"

"First-year, math, right?" And then I recognized he had to be at least a couple of years older than me. "You didn't get around to it until now, huh?"

He grimaced. "This is my third time through. Not my best thing."

Before I could consider the ramifications, I blurted, "It's mine. I love math." Oh hell.

He cocked his head, his smile growing even broader. "Beautiful and smart. Maybe you can help me out so I don't grow old in this classroom? They won't let me graduate if I never pass it."

"Really? I'd love to help you." Stop gushing! "I mean, uh, sure if I understand the material, I would be glad to help. I might not be able to keep up."

"Somehow I doubt that." He reached out and took my hand, sending tingles racing up to my elbow. "Come sit by me, and the helping can begin."

Ian was a smart guy, I had no doubt, but not everyone was good at math. Nothing presented that day was unfamiliar to me, to my relief, and Ian walked me to my next class, holding my hand and asking me questions about the material covered.

This math-loving girl was in heaven.