The Wolf They Buried

Lena Vale’s alarm had been going off for eleven minutes when Maya finally threw a pillow at her. “That’s the third time you’ve hit snooze,” Maya said from the other side of the room. “I counted. I’ve been counting since 7:02.” “It’s a feature,” Lena mumbled into her blanket. “It builds character.” “It builds a girl who’s late for Professor Hale’s lecture. Get up. I need coffee, and I’m not getting it until you’re a person.” Lena lifted her head. Maya was already dressed, her dark curls piled on top of her head and held in place by what looked like two pens and a hair tie. Her laptop bag hung over one shoulder, and she had the expression of someone who had been awake for hours and wanted everyone to know it. “You look like you’re going to a job interview.” “I am going to a job interview. Sort of.” Maya pointed at her with a pen, then realized it was one of the pens holding up her hair and shoved it back. “Applications for the Aurelia Ledger close in three weeks. I need a story, Lena. Not another piece about the cafeteria switching oat milk brands.” “People care about oat milk.” “People care about everything until they have to read about it.” Maya threw a sweater at her. “Up.” It took Lena twelve minutes to find her other shoe. It was under Maya’s bed, which neither of them could explain. The walk to the Humanities building took them across the main quad. Monday mornings at Aurelia had a particular sound. Bicycle bells, groups of first-years arguing about group projects, and someone’s speaker playing the same pop song for the fourth day in a row. The old stone buildings sat beneath thin golden sunlight, and the smell of cut grass mixed with coffee from the carts around campus. Lena had stopped noticing the other thing a long time ago. Or at least, she told herself she had. The way people’s eyes touched her and moved on. It was never rude, which somehow made it worse. A boy in a Thornfield Pack jacket glanced at her before turning toward the fountain. Two girls near the library steps stopped talking just long enough for her to pass. A woman pushing a coffee cart gave Lena a smile so warm and careful that she almost wanted to apologize. “Don’t,” Maya said quietly. “I’m not doing anything.” “You’re doing the shrug.” “I don’t have a shrug.” “You have a shrug. It starts in your left shoulder.” Maya linked her arm through Lena’s. “I’m buying you a very large coffee, and you’re going to forget about all of them.” Lena laughed. “You’re very bossy before ten a.m.” “I’m very bossy after ten a.m. too. You just stop noticing.” The coffee cart was at the end of the quad. Maya ordered for both of them without asking, which was fine because she always got it right. Lena took her cup and let the warmth sit in her hands. “Lena! Hey!” She turned. A girl from her seminar hurried toward them, backpack bouncing against her shoulders. “Hi,” Lena said. “Hi! I just wanted to say I really admired you for coming to the study session on Thursday. It must have been so hard.” The girl’s voice dropped into the tone people used at funerals. “And if you ever want to talk about it, or, you know, about anything, I’m here.” Lena felt the shrug starting in her left shoulder. “That’s really kind,” she said. “But I only came for the notes. Professor Hale’s handwriting is a crime.” The girl blinked, then laughed a little too loudly. “Right. Of course. Well, the offer stands.” She hurried away. Maya waited until she was gone. “Wow.” “She genuinely thinks she’s helping,” Lena said. “I know.” “That’s the worst part.” “You could have said something.” “What would I say? ‘Thanks, but I’m not actually dying’?” Maya gave her a look. Lena sighed. “It’s fine. People feel awkward. I’d rather they were nice than mean.” Maya was quiet for a moment. “Would you, though?” Lena didn’t answer. Instead, she asked about Maya’s oat milk article, and Maya immediately launched into another complaint about the cafeteria. By the time they reached Humanities, Lena was laughing again. For a little while, that was enough. The lecture hall in Humanities 204 was already half full when they arrived. It was a large, tiered room with tall windows and a ceiling stained pale brown from years of leaks. A vampire boy in sunglasses sat in the back, while two hybrids shared a tablet near the front. Across the aisle, a group of wolves from a mountain pack passed a bag of pretzels around. Lena slid into her usual seat in the third row. Maya dropped into the chair beside her. “Okay. Packs and Politics. Please, I’m begging you, don’t let me fall asleep.” “I’ll poke you.” “Hard.” “Medium.” “Hard, Lena.” Lena smiled and opened her notebook. She had barely written the date when the room changed. Conversations faded. A girl two rows ahead stopped talking and sat up straighter. Someone near the pretzels muttered, “Raven.” Maya leaned closer. “Don’t look.” Lena looked. Three men had entered through the upper door. She knew who they were. Everyone did. Aurelia had students from different packs, vampire houses, families, and species, but there were still people whose names seemed to enter a room before they did. Kael Raven was one of them. He walked in front, tall and calm, with dark hair that looked like he hadn’t bothered with it. He wore a plain grey sweater and carried a single notebook. Lena had seen him around campus for two years, but she couldn’t have told anyone what his voice sounded like. She only knew that people tended to lower theirs when he was nearby. Beside him was Ethan, laughing at something Kael hadn’t even said. He had messy sandy hair and the relaxed manner of someone who treated every room like his own living room. The third was Rowan Blackwood. He walked slightly behind them, quiet and watchful. Dark hair, a weathered jacket, and a stillness that made him stand out even when he wasn’t doing anything. “They sit in the back,” Maya whispered. “They always sit in the back. Don’t look at them. Looking encourages them.” “I’m not looking.” “You are absolutely looking.” Lena turned back to her notebook. The three men started down the aisle. Kael walked past without looking at her. Ethan gave her a small, friendly nod, and Lena nodded back. Then Rowan stopped. It wasn’t for long. Half a second, maybe less. One moment he was walking. The next, he was standing still, his eyes fixed on her face. Lena looked up. She was used to people glancing at her and quickly looking away. This wasn’t that. Rowan looked at her as though he’d turned a corner and found someone he knew standing somewhere they shouldn’t be. Lena’s pen stopped moving. She searched his face for some kind of explanation. There wasn’t one. Then Ethan said something over his shoulder. Rowan blinked. The moment broke. He continued up the stairs and took his seat in the back as if nothing had happened. Maya leaned closer. “Okay,” she whispered. “What was that?” “I don’t know.” “Do you know him?” “No.” “Are you sure?” Lena looked at her. “If I knew him, don’t you think I’d have mentioned it?” Maya narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you have a secret life.” “Yes. It’s very exciting. I spend my nights stealing cafeteria spoons.” Maya laughed. Lena turned back to her notebook. The date was still there. So was the title, underlined twice. She stared at the words, but she couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking about before Rowan stopped. For the rest of the lecture, she tried to focus on Professor Hale. She failed. Because every few minutes, Lena found herself wondering the same thing. Why had Rowan Blackwood looked at her like that? Like he knew her. Like he was trying to remember something he’d forgotten.