Chapter 29: Pack Rules

Astrid

We gathered after breakfast to find Professor Lyra already waiting, arms crossed, clearly ready to make today harder than yesterday, the morning mist still clinging low to the grass around her boots.

"Today’s exercise is pack coordination," she announced. "You’ll cross a marked section of forest, retrieve a flag, and return before the other groups. You will function as an actual pack. That means using your wolves’ senses. That means communicating through instinct, not conversation."

I already knew where that left me.

Someone nearby muttered, "How exactly is the girl with no wolf supposed to contribute?"

I heard it clearly.

Before I could respond, Lyra cut in flatly. "If she can’t contribute, she’ll fail. Just like everyone else."

No rescue. No exception carved out for me. I appreciated that more than any pity would have offered.

Groups formed quickly, students volunteering for tracking, scouting, protection, each role claimed before anyone thought to ask what I wanted, the whole process happening around me like I was already invisible.

I spoke up anyway. "I’ll scout."

Someone laughed. "Without a wolf?"

I looked at them. "Do you have a problem with your ears? Because they’re clearly working."

Xander snorted behind me. Reed’s mouth twitched with something close to a smile he didn’t let fully form.

The group reluctantly agreed, mostly, I suspected, because nobody wanted to argue with me twice in one morning, and partly because nobody had a better idea for what to do with the one student who couldn’t shift.

Xander threw himself into planning immediately, rattling off instructions like he was leading an actual military operation, pointing at imaginary maps and assigning positions nobody had asked him to assign.

"You’re enjoying this," I said, watching him direct traffic among our teammates.

"Obviously."

"You realize this isn’t an actual war."

"Winning is winning."

I laughed, and something about watching him this invested, competitive and energetic and clearly proud of the people around him, made me like him even more than his usual teasing did. It was strange, seeing this side of him surface out here, away from the easy charm he used at the academy.

We entered the forest not long after, the wolf students immediately pulling ahead on four legs while I struggled to match their pace on two, my breath already coming shorter than I wanted to admit. My body tired quickly, legs burning against the uneven terrain, though I refused to complain about it out loud.

Xander noticed anyway. Instead of making a scene, he simply fell back to walk beside me.

"You know, walking is allowed," he said.

"I’m aware."

"Good. Because you’re trying to outrun people who have four legs."

I rolled my eyes. "I hate when you’re reasonable."

"It’s one of my best qualities."

He kept pace with me the rest of the climb, never once making it feel like a favor, matching his stride to mine so naturally that I almost forgot he could have easily outrun the entire group on his own.

The terrain grew steeper further in, loose soil shifting under my boots with every step, the incline sharper than anything we’d faced yesterday. I slipped, and Reed’s hand shot out, catching my wrist before I could fall.

For a second we were too close, his grip firm around my wrist, my pulse suddenly loud in my ears. He released me almost immediately.

"Careful," he said.

"I’m fine."

"I know." A pause. "That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful."

I didn’t have a response for that. I just nodded, and we kept moving.

We hit trouble further along, several overlapping trails confusing the wolves entirely, students arguing over which direction made more sense while precious minutes ticked by. I studied the ground while the debate carried on around me, noticing something nobody else seemed to.

The forest floor had been disturbed recently.

"We’re going the wrong way," I said.

A student challenged me immediately. "You can’t smell the trail."

"I don’t need to." I pointed toward the bent leaves, the fresher mud further to the left. "That way."

The group followed me, reluctantly at first, then more confidently once the flag came into view exactly where I’d predicted.

Xander looked thoroughly delighted. "I knew bringing you was a good idea."

"You didn’t choose me," I pointed out.

"Details."

We made it back to camp before three other groups, the students around us clearly surprised by our time, several of them checking the marker board twice like they expected the numbers to change. Someone from another group asked, disbelieving, how we’d managed it without a proper wolf leading the way. Lyra reviewed the results and addressed the whole group rather than singling me out.

"You won because you used everyone’s strengths," she said. Her gaze lingered on me for a beat longer than the rest. "Remember that."

I didn’t need a wolf to matter here. That lesson settled in deeper than I expected, deeper than any single compliment could have, because it hadn’t come wrapped in pity or surprise.

Afterward, I sat near camp drinking water, my legs finally allowed to rest against a fallen log someone had dragged close to the fire pit. Xander dropped down beside me.

"You know, you’re getting dangerously good at making me look bad," he said.

"Wasn’t trying."

"That’s what makes it worse."

I laughed. Reed approached a moment later with another bottle of water, handing it over without comment.

"Ignore him," Reed said.

Xander looked wounded. "She’s supposed to appreciate my encouragement."

I looked between them. "You’re both exhausting."

Xander grinned. "And yet you keep hanging around us."

I opened my mouth to argue and found nothing came out, because he wasn’t wrong.

That evening, the camp settled into its usual rhythm, students laughing around the fire, the smell of roasted food drifting through the clearing, someone’s off-key singing carrying faintly from the far side of camp. For the first time since arriving, I didn’t feel like the odd girl who didn’t belong.

I felt useful. Included. Wanted.

Then, unbidden, I remembered the strange tracks from yesterday, deliberate and human, laid down somewhere in this supposedly protected forest, the memory settling cold in my stomach despite the warmth of the fire.

My smile faded slightly.

Someone had been walking through territory the academy claimed was secure, careful enough to disguise their tracks, deliberate enough to know exactly what a false trail should look like.

And if that was true, I couldn’t help wondering exactly who, and why, and whether it had anything at all to do with the King’s continued search for a daughter he still hadn’t found.