Zara's POV
Saturday dawned cold and bright, frost silvering the grass beyond my dorm window. I woke up shivering under thin covers, my breath fogging in the dim dawn light. Wolf sports day. Great. The entire academy was buzzing about it all week, but all I cared about was calling Aunt May. My mind burned with questions — about Mira Blackwood, about the journal hidden under my pillow, about why my name kept popping up in places it didn't belong.
But calls weren't allowed until after sports ended. I clenched my fists under the blanket. Why does everything here feel like a cage?
I dragged myself up, showered and pulled on my thickest sweater, and met Talia at breakfast. She was humming under her breath as she sprinkled cinnamon onto her porridge. The dining hall was rowdy today, pa
