Blood & Bond

Chapter One

The bike’s wheels wobble as gravity pulls the bike and Sinella down the hill. Sinella holds a handlebar firmly with one hand, trying to keep the wheels on a steady path as she checks her watch. If Sinella maintains her speed, she will make it in time. This rush - the sinking feeling in Sinella’s stomach each time her bicycle’s wheels veer off course - could have been avoided if Sinella had accepted her dad’s offer to drop her at school.

“Woah!” Sinella balances the bike while she wobbles on the seat.

Her first year of high school was torture. This year she’s determined to fit in. That will be made a little easier if her surrogate wolf dad isn’t dropping her off at school.

The wheels wobble again, twisting to the right, sending Sinella and the bike in the direction of the sidewalk.

“s**t. s**t. s**t. Shit.” Sinella curses as she grips the handlebars; her fingers and palm compressing the orange sponge wrapped around the bars. She swings the bike sharply to the left, away from the sidewalk.

“No!” The bike twists underneath Sinella’s weight, teeters, then topples. She and the bike crash onto the road like a demolished tower. They skate to the base of the hill as one tangled unit.

Sinella pulls herself free and stands. Her arms and legs protest the movement. Her left pant leg is ripped at the knee, exposing bruised flesh. An angry red patch marks her fair skin. Searing pain radiates from her chin. Sinella works her mouth, shifts her chin from left to right, and flexes her jaw.

“Ouch.”

She touches her chin and winces. Sinella pulls her hand away to inspect the red smudge on her fingertips.

Not a lot of blood. Not a big cut. It’s no big deal. I’ll recover.

Sinella drags her bike to the sidewalk and sits down. She unclasps the helmet and places it on the pavement next to her. Lucky for her, her dad…Max…Maximus had insisted she wears her helmet. Lucky for her, she had heeded his instructions. She doesn’t always heed his instructions.

She draws her leg in and inspects her knee more closely. “Just what I need. Max is gonna flip.” The name feels strange on her tongue. “Dad,” feels more natural to her, but if she’s going to fit in, she will have to live with these small discomforts. “Maximus,” she tries again. The name tastes just as strange on her tongue. She looks at her knee again. “He’s definitely going to dive headfirst into overprotective parent mode.”

From here, the steeple of one of the old buildings which lies on the outskirts of The Academy is visible. If she returns home, Maximus will understand. Heck, he’ll be glad she did. But The Academy isn’t only home to Maximus. Sinella examines her surroundings, eyeing the houses that line the streets. This is where she belongs.