The Girl with No Pack
1161 Words
The next morning, everything felt different.
Not because the students suddenly liked me—they didn’t.
But because now they feared me.
Whispers followed me down every hallway. Not just taunts this time, but unease. Curiosity.
“Did you see what she did to Savannah?” “She threw her without touching her.” “What kind of human does that?”
The truth was—I had no idea.
And that was starting to scare me more than anything else.
My cheek was still bruised from yesterday’s fight, but I wore it like armor.
Kade hadn’t shown up to any classes, not even at meals. Not that I expected him to.
Still, every time I passed the head table, I felt his absence like a c***k in the air. Like something had been yanked out of balance.
Jax caught up with me on the way to Defense Theory.
“You’re a legend now,” he said with a grin. “The human who fried a Beta.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t exaggerate. I didn’t fry her.”
“She hit the wall, Layla.”
I didn’t answer.
He nudged me. “Look, I’m not saying you’re secretly a goddess, but if you start glowing again, warn me. I’ll duck.”
That actually made me laugh, and for a moment, the weight in my chest eased.
Until I saw the notice boards in the hallway.
BLOOD MOON CEREMONY: THIS FRIDAY NIGHT. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.
Underneath was a list of pack names, ranks, and assigned seating.
At the very bottom, in a different color ink, was one line:
Layla Hart – Unranked. No Pack.
It stung more than I thought it would.
Even here, in this twisted elite school for wolves, I didn’t belong.
Not human enough.
Not wolf enough.
Just… alone.
In Defense Theory, the professor had us list known threats to wolf society.
“Hunters,” someone called out.
“Rogues,” said another.
“Humans,” came a sharp voice from the front row.
Laughter.
The professor nodded. “Correct. Humans remain a threat—especially those who know too much or come from legacy bloodlines.”
Legacy?
My hand twitched.
“Miss Hart,” the professor suddenly said, his eyes locking on me. “Since you’ve recently made yourself… visible, would you care to share your thoughts?”
I swallowed. “On what?”
“On why the council might allow a human into Blackthorn for the first time in history.”
All eyes turned to me.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” I said evenly. “But if you think I’m just a threat… maybe you’re scared for the wrong reasons.”
Murmurs broke out.
The professor raised a brow. “Careful, Miss Hart. Arrogance is a luxury only wolves can afford.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t care about luxury.”
Even Jax whistled under his breath.
The professor didn’t smile. But he didn’t push me further either.
That night, I dug through the small box of things I’d brought with me—hoping, maybe, to find some clue to who I really was.
At the very bottom, I found it.
A locket.
Old. Tarnished. Shaped like a crescent moon.
It had belonged to my mother. One of the only things the orphanage had let me keep.
I’d never been able to open it.
But tonight, something felt different.
My fingers brushed the surface, and the lock clicked open with a soft click.
Inside was a tiny engraving.
“Born of the storm. Raised by the fire.”
I stared at it for a long time.
What did that even mean?
And why did my skin tingle just reading the words?
Someone knocked on my door.
I tensed, fingers wrapping around the locket.
“Who is it?”
“Open up. It’s Jax.”
I cracked the door open. “What do you want?”
He held up a keycard. “You’ve been summoned.”
“By who?”
He smirked. “Who do you think?”
We rode the elevator to the top floor—an area I hadn’t even known existed.
The doors opened to a massive, torch-lit hallway lined with banners. Deep golds and blood reds. At the end stood twin doors, marked with the Thorn crest.
Jax handed me the card. “He said come alone.”
I stared at the doors.
“What is this place?”
He shrugged. “His territory.”
Of course it was.
I pushed the doors open—and stepped into a space that felt like a throne room.
Bookshelves, weapon racks, maps, ancient wolf statues. And in the middle of it all—
Kade.
Leaning against a long table, arms crossed, eyes like frozen steel.
“You came.”
I stepped inside. “You summoned me.”
He tilted his head. “And you came anyway.”
I raised a brow. “Do you always play mind games, or am I just lucky?”
He didn’t smile. But something in his gaze warmed.
“Tell me about the locket,” he said.
My stomach dropped.
“How do you know about that?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
“Where?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he walked closer—slowly, purposefully—until he stood just inches away.
“You said you don’t know where you’re from,” he murmured. “But that locket… it doesn’t belong to any human family.”
I clutched it tighter. “It was my mother’s.”
“She lied to you.”
My heart skipped. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
He pulled something from his pocket—a folded, faded piece of paper.
It was a page from a book. Old. Torn at the edges.
He handed it to me.
And there it was:
A sketch of the exact locket.
"Crescent of the Forgotten Line. Last known artifact of the Luna Blood.”
I stared at it, numb.
“This is a joke.”
“It’s not.”
“Luna bloodlines are a myth.”
“Not to my people. And not to the council.”
I met his gaze, my voice a whisper.
“What are you saying?”
“That you’re not just some girl with a scholarship. You’re something older. Something lost.”
A chill spread down my spine.
“But I’m human.”
“Not anymore.”
He stepped even closer, voice low and rough.
“And if you don’t find out what you are before the Blood Moon… they’ll come for you.”
“Who will?”
“The ones who fear your blood.”
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed with the locket clutched in my hand and the prophecy’s words burned into my thoughts.
Born of the storm. Raised by the fire.
Whatever I was… Whoever I was…
It had just begun to wake up.
- Writer
