Chapter 27: Into the Woods

Astrid

I woke earlier than usual, my hand instinctively reaching for a phone I didn’t own before I remembered, again, that it didn’t matter today anyway. No technology allowed for the entire trip, and everyone else at Moonshade had been dreading that fact since yesterday’s announcement.

I looked at the small bag I’d packed the night before and realized how strange it felt preparing for days away without most of what people usually considered necessities.

Ivy was already complaining by the time I found her in the hallway, her bag already packed twice as heavy as anyone else’s. "I still think this violates several human rights."

"We’re werewolves," I said.

"Exactly. We’re an advanced civilization."

I pointed out that she’d spent half of yesterday complaining about the lack of Wi-Fi in the woods before we’d even left.

"I was expressing legitimate concerns," she said, unbothered.

By the time we reached the academy gates, the entire student body had gathered in the courtyard, first-years grumbling loudly about the technology ban while seniors stood off to the side looking entirely too amused by the whole spectacle.

"We’re literally being sent back to the Stone Age," someone near me complained.

"At least the cave people probably had better entertainment," another added.

A senior walked past, muttering, "Children," and his friend laughed. "Give them two days. They’ll be begging for textbooks and hot water."

Ivy nudged me. "They’re enjoying this."

"They’re enjoying watching you suffer," I said.

"I knew I disliked seniors for a reason."

Faculty began collecting phones and devices, students handing them over with varying degrees of reluctance. Ivy dramatically clutched hers before finally surrendering it.

"Take care of her," she told the professor.

He stared at her. "It’s a phone."

"Exactly. She has feelings."

I laughed, and then realized I had nothing to hand over at all. No phone. No device. Nothing worth confiscating. For once, my lack of belongings didn’t embarrass me. It almost made me invisible, blending seamlessly into a line of students surrendering things I’d simply never owned to begin with.

Reed and Xander appeared near the buses a few minutes later. Xander looked thoroughly unimpressed by the whole ordeal.

"Tell me again why the academy thinks suffering builds character," he said.

"Because you’ve clearly had enough comfort," Reed said, not even looking at him.

I laughed. Xander turned toward me, betrayed. "You’re taking his side already?"

"He has a point."

"Unbelievable."

Reed’s eyes landed on my small bag. "That’s all you’re taking?"

"I don’t need much," I said, shrugging.

He looked at me a beat longer than the question required, like the answer told him something he didn’t quite know how to ask about further.

"Stay close to your group," he said instead.

I nodded, and something about the simple instruction settled warm in my chest.

The ride out took nearly an hour, Ivy filling the silence with everything she expected from the trip, cataloguing every possible way the next three days could go wrong. I admitted, eventually, that I’d never actually camped before.

"You’ve never camped?" she said, horrified.

"Not exactly."

"What did you do growing up?"

I hesitated. Dangerous ground. "Nothing like this," I said vaguely.

She accepted it without pushing, then launched into a detailed list of everything that could theoretically kill us in the woods.

"You’re supposed to make me feel better," I said.

"I’m being realistic."

The forest came into view eventually, enormous and thick, ancient trees stretching upward with mountains visible far beyond the canopy, the whole scene looking like something out of one of the old maps I’d studied back in the observatory. The camp had already been set up, and students spilled out of the transports, stretching and grumbling about the ride.

Moonshade had always felt controlled, ordered, safe within its stone walls. This place didn’t. The forest felt alive in a way that raised the hair on my arms.

I noticed wolf tracks pressed into the mud near the camp’s edge.

A professor gathered everyone to explain the boundaries. "You are here to experience wolf life," she said, "not become a missing-person report."

Xander muttered, "There goes my plan."

I laughed despite myself.

We were assigned tents shortly after. Ivy immediately began complaining about the arrangements, and Xander, passing by, offered unhelpfully, "You’ll survive."

"Easy for you to say. You’re a senior."

"Exactly. We’ve evolved."

I laughed again, and Reed passed behind him with a flat look. "Stop frightening the first-years."

"I’m preparing them."

"You’re annoying them."

"Same thing."

As evening settled in, I stepped away from the noise for a moment, taking in everything around me, the smell of woodsmoke and pine thick in the cooling air. No phones. No academy bells. No library, no familiar stone walls, just endless trees and the sounds of a hundred students trying to build a fire correctly for the first time in their lives.

For a brief moment, I felt strangely exposed. I’d spent my whole life staying alert, staying hidden, never letting myself depend on anyone else for safety. Out here, I couldn’t control much of anything.

Then I heard Ivy calling my name, and Xander shouting something ridiculous from across the camp, and Reed quietly helping one of the professors set up equipment nearby, his movements careful and efficient even out here in the middle of nowhere.

I realized, somewhat unexpectedly, that I wasn’t alone anymore.

That thought settled somewhere strange and unfamiliar in my chest.

As darkness fell fully, the students gathered around a large campfire for final instructions. The lead professor explained that the real training began at dawn, tracking, hunting, navigation, pack coordination, survival skills, and wolf behavior all woven into the days ahead.

My stomach tightened at one particular word.

Shifting.

I still couldn’t. I never had. Around me, students chattered excitedly about tomorrow, nobody else carrying the same quiet dread I was.

The professor gave one final warning before dismissing us. "Once training begins, nobody receives special treatment."

I looked out toward the dark treeline, then toward Reed and Xander a short distance away.

Xander caught me staring. "Nervous?"

I straightened. "No."

He grinned. "You’re a terrible liar."

Reed glanced over but said nothing, though I could feel him watching all the same.

I turned back toward the forest, the fire crackling behind me.

Tomorrow, I’d have to survive without technology. Without the academy’s walls around me. Without a familiar bed, a locked door, or anywhere private to disappear to if things went wrong.

And, more than anything else, without a wolf of my own to rely on.