Page 7 of Forsaken

“When she gave you the deadline,” I state. I find nothing helpful about what Lydia Greystone has done. In fact, I can’t stand her. All the packs agreed to the Rejected Mate Academy, but it was the Lunar Pack’s line that implemented it. Rumor is they’re the strictest pack of them all. I don’t know about that, seems like Daybreak is just as bad.

“Let’s get down to business,” Ms. Ebon directs, maneuvering the conversation as if she could do this in her sleep. So many Lunar Pack shifters have sat in this very chair, and they’ve succeeded. I suppose she is the person to listen to. “The Winter Solstice party is coming up. Since Daybreak is hosting, I’m going to petition for Daybreak shifters to return to their pack territories.”

“W-what? Why?”

Ms. Ebon glances up from the paperwork in front of her. “For you, Miss Adams. I’ve read through your file and the sparse notes your own advisor has left. I see nothing has progressed in your relationship with your mate for quite some time. It’s obvious that will still be the case, even with the deadline looming over our heads. However, a change of scenery might do you both good. Returning to Daybreak and seeing you more often than the bi-weekly mandatory meetings, might show your fated mate what he’s been missing.”

“I...don’t think—”

“You don’t think, but you don’t know, either, Miss Adams. You’ve been here for a very long time. Your mate has obviously not given up because he hasn’t filled out the final paperwork. There is hope for you yet. The Winter Solstice party is your last chance. I suggest you use it wisely.”

Her words are uttered in a way that I shouldn’t argue, but I’m sick and tired of bending over backward for Sean when he might be with Gayle, not even thinking twice about me. Actually, I’m not doing myself any favors by only suspecting their transgressions. I know. I just don’t have the evidence. “Ms. Ebon…” I clear my throat as nerves set in, “I suspect that my mate is with someone else in Daybreak. I don’t think going back there will change anything.”

She lifts a judgmental brow. “Is there any proof?”

“I’m here, so no, I don’t have proof. Do I have any recourse if that’s what I find when I return to Daybreak? What if he is with another shifter and that’s why he won’t accept me? Does that seem fair to you? Made to go Feral when he’s the one who’s breaking the mate laws?”

She doesn’t rise to my bait. She’s like an emotionless marble statue. “I suppose there is more than one reason why you should return to Daybreak, then, isn’t there?” She doesn’t pause long enough for me to answer. “I must impress upon you the urgency of this, Miss Adams. Lydia Greystone has set the time limit on your fate with us. It’s now up to you to make the future happen.”

“He doesn’t love me,” I argue.

She shakes her head. “That’s simply impossible. Shifters are bound to their other halves. Find a way to make him see you, Miss Adams. Open yourself up. Fate will do the rest.”

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m already shaking my head. My wolf agrees with me. I’ve bared my soul to Sean, only to have him completely forsake me. I don’t think I can go through that again.

“You have two weeks,” Ms. Ebon states.

My heart stops. It’s like a tractor trailer gunning straight for me, its shiny, platinum grill lit up with neon warning signs. In slow motion, the blood stops pumping through my veins, my brain blips out like someone shut me off, and my body practically deflates.

Two weeks.

I’ve been here for over a year, and they expect me to get Sean back in two weeks?

Panic crashes into me, my body coming to life in a thrum of anxiety and worry. Those emotions give way to anger in a split second. “This is bullshit.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Adams, it is reality.”

She returns to flipping through my file, stopping to jot down notes of her own. Adrenaline courses through me like electricity through high-voltage lines. No matter how wrong this is, nothing will change. I can’t change Ms. Ebon’s mind in a few minutes, and hell, it’s not even her mind I need to change. It’s the whole damn system. All eight packs agreed to this barbaric nonsense. Not only is it just not right, but did anyone stop to think that the wrong shifters are at Greystone? Surely Sean should be in here for rejecting me.

I stand, the chair scraping against the stone floor as I move, and Ms. Ebon glances up. “Somewhere to be?”

My fingers fidget near my side. I haven’t exactly been complacent with what’s going on here, but I haven’t bucked the system either. Maybe it’s time I do? I’d rather go Feral than walk my rejected ass back into Daybreak and beg Sean to take me.

Maybe I’m finally as royally pissed off as Nathan seems to be lately.

It’s as if the whole world is against me. Especially Lydia Greystone. She won’t stop until all the rejected shifters are gone. I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it earlier. Of course I would be on her radar—I’ve been in limbo for a year. They’re not going to host me here forever.

I spin on my heel and start for the door. Ms. Ebon sighs. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” My fingers wrap around the doorknob and I yank the huge, wooden door open. Inside, my wolf raises a fur-covered paw in solidarity with me. It’s not exactly visuals that I get while human, it’s feelings. And right now, she’s on my side, riding this wave of not doing what everyone is telling me to do. I’ve been on that route for far too long.

I hang a left out of the office. Too agitated to go back to my room or eat dinner with Nadia, I need an escape. I’ll end up biting the sweet shifter’s face off, and I really don’t want to do that to someone so innocent. Instead, I head right for the arched wooden doors. They must be at least twenty feet in height. Despite their antiqueness, the front doors open easier than Ms. Ebon’s.

I sprint down the stone steps, leaving behind the castle-inspired academy with its turrets that rise so high they’re practically mingling with the clouds. I’m heading away from the awful place. Away from the uncaring people inside.

Briefly, I stop in one of the changing huts gracing the manicured lawn. The string of octagon-shaped structures are available like gym lockers in high school. They’re actually a nice feature to keep our clothes from getting ruined before we shift or to prevent us from walking around naked all the time.

My wolf paws at her home inside me. She can barely wait for me to slip out of my Greystone Academy uniform. The pleated skirt hits the ground first. Then the buttoned blouse. I practically rip off the hideous, long, black socks. Lastly, my bra and underwear are tossed onto the bench. I barely stand up straight before my wolf starts to take over.

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