Emily At An All Boys Werewolf Academy!

Disappointed

Xander's pov

"Are you not going to speak up?" Tristen asked again in his stern voice. The guys were fidgeting before him, and I was quietly enjoying the show, acting unbothered.

"W-we, the new student was jogging outside, and the others were commenting," one of the guys finally stammered, quickly painting all his mates with the same brush, but at least leaving himself out of it.

"That's all?" They all nodded.

"Why were you laughing just now?" Tristen pressed again.

I swept my gaze over them casually. The one speaking grew more nervous and said, "W-well, Miller over there made a remark, and the girl—I mean, lady, no, new student... she sent him a middle finger."

A laugh almost escaped my mouth, but I quickly stifled it, covering it with my usual unbothered demeanor. Feisty girl. She was shedding all the mannerisms drilled into her back home just to survive here. Not bad... but still not good enough. Getting barbaric and throwing out a few curse words won’t help her blend in with the guys. The level of physicality required in our curriculum will show her just how out of place she really is.

"And that’s all?" Tristen continued to press them.

I rolled my eyes, already bored and ready to move on. I turned and walked away, Tristen hurrying after me, no doubt preparing to give me an earful for abandoning him, considering I was the one who had insisted on asking the questions. I looked at him, and before he could speak, I said, "My attention span is as short as my temper." He rolled his eyes and muttered, "I can't refute that," before opening the door for me.

The moment I stepped outside, the attention-grabbing girl was already in the thick of it. She was talking to none other than Damien Forber, a royal and a failure in the eyes of everyone at the academy. He was my age but hadn't even met his wolf yet. Famous outside the school, maybe, but in here? Nothing. Without his wolf, he was just another royal trying to cling to power, and even his siblings, who were a year ahead of us, posed more of a headache than he did.

I didn’t know what they were discussing, but I had every intention of walking past them when my wolf stirred.

"What is it?" I asked, looking inward for Max, my wolf. He rarely bothered with anything unless I needed him to use my power to oppress someone. He lived for that—oppression and dominance. Otherwise, he stayed hidden in the darkness.

“She can sense us,” Max said, his calm voice carrying a weight that stopped me in my tracks.

"Are you okay?" Tristen asked, noticing that I had stopped walking. I signaled to him with my hand, and he immediately fell silent. I zoned out again, refocusing on Max.

“What do you mean?” I asked, focusing on him with a solemn face.

“Exactly that. I think she’s a dual trait, like her brother. She can sense my energy, which is why she’s looking at you like you stole her cat, killed it in front of her, and ate it,” Max said, almost making my heart drop.

A dual wolf was a wolf with other special genes besides the werewolf ones, like me. My enhanced power and senses allowed me to meet my wolf at 16 instead of the normal 18. But the downside was, my powers could slip out of control. In the right conditions, I could lose myself and become a mindless animal—worse than a rogue, a killing machine. Only one person had ever been able to keep me at bay: Jonathan, who met his wolf at 17. He was able to calm my energy, and I could sense his energy the first time we met.

"Try talking to her and let’s see if she has a wolf," Max suddenly suggested. "I can't sense anything coming off her."

I tuned into my surroundings, catching bits of her conversation with Damien.

“Oh? I don’t know, maybe I’m just trying to test how well the academy teaches its discipline,” she said, and from her tone, I could tell Damien must’ve said something that displeased her.

"What are you—?" Damien started, but I felt the urge to interrupt.

I cut him off. "And what do you think of the discipline level of the academy?" I said, my voice calm.

The attention grabber looked startled that I spoke to her. Her reaction was a little amusing, like a little rabbit trying to act brave in front of its predator. But she turned to face me and said, “It’s not that bad. I thought my little act to gain attention and sell myself as the damsel in distress would at least elicit more than a lukewarm reaction. Instead of just heads poking out, I was hoping for something... else, you know, something pointy.”

That was a dangerous remark, but my mind was elsewhere.

“Well? Did you sense anything?” I asked, moving away from her to Max.

Max sighed, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice. "No, she doesn’t have her wolf. I guess she’s not like Jonathan after all."

I nodded, returning my attention to the scene around me. Her comment caused an uproar among the students, but that didn’t concern me. What I wanted from her, she didn’t have. She was practically useless to me now, and should just return to her playground.

I looked at her one last time and said, “I see.” Then I turned and left, Tristen following closely behind.

"Don’t tell me you’re going to drive her out of the academy just because you’re disappointed?" Max’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You’re right. So what if I am?” I responded, my annoyance slipping into my tone. She raised my hopes for nothing, and now I was going to end her investigation before it even started.

“Tch, you’re being childish,” Max muttered before shutting his mind off again.

“What can I say? I’m petty like that,” I said with a shrug. Anyway sending her away was the only way to fulfill Jonathan’s wish—the only way she’d be safe. Away from this place. The place of her brother’s death.