Emily At An All Boys Werewolf Academy!

Tough love

Xander's pov

I was sitting outside the headmaster’s office in the main tower for the academy instructors. The reception area was large, an open space between the secretary’s office and the headmaster’s with a coffee table and a long couch. I was slouched on the couch while Tristen stood beside me, reading some papers. The meeting was supposed to start at 7:30, but it was almost 8 now. Usually, my temper would be simmering at the verge of bursting, but today, I was oddly calm. My mind kept wandering back to the attention-grabbing girl.

Why could she sense us if she hadn’t met her wolf yet? A stupid, fleeting glimmer of hope occasionally flashed in my mind, thinking maybe she’d have the same specialty as Jonathan. But I crushed that feeling mercilessly. Even if she had the abilities, she could never fill his role. My former beta would always have a place in my heart. No one could ever replace him.

“Yo, James just reported that the guys pulled a prank on Emily,” Tristen said, his face buried in the papers. James was one of my men, stationed in the kitchen unit to ensure I didn’t eat poisoned food. Given the number of enemies my pack had, it was only a matter of time before something like that showed up, so they put him there as a precaution. Honestly, though, I didn’t care. No poison could touch me.

“Don’t care,” I replied nonchalantly.

He ignored me and continued, “They replaced her breakfast with a cucumber, a banana, and an eggplant. Left a note: ‘Here’s something pointy you fancy.’”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. The poker face I’d been holding all morning disappeared in an instant. They’d really pulled a good one on her.

“Xander!” Tristen started, walking to the coffee table and putting down the papers.

“What?” I asked, knowing full well what he was about to say.

“She’s Jonathan’s little sister.”

I sighed. “That point is getting a little redundant.” I didn’t care who she was related to. She could be the king’s daughter, and I still wouldn’t give a s**t.

“Just listen. My point is, Jonathan never liked skipping breakfast.” Tristen’s tone softened, and my face fell.

I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the ache that suddenly formed.

“And I know you don’t like me bringing this up, but—”

“Then don’t.” I cut him off with a warning look. We’d been past this. No talking about Jonathan, especially not with her around. As long as attention grabber girl was here, Tristen would keep mentioning her— and him. I wasn’t ready to talk about Jonathan, let alone walk past the fresh memories. Getting rid of 'preppy girl' was the only way to make this stop.

“Sorry, but what if she’s like Jonathan? What if she hates skipping breakfast? What if it makes her grumpy, weak, or—”

“Tristen, that’s enough.” I stood up, my voice sharp. I had given him ample time to get over Jonathan’s death, the best way he could. But I needed him to respect my wishes too. I hadn’t even gone to Jonathan’s funeral because of the guilt gnawing at me. I didn’t need her presence to remind me of him.

“I’m sorry, Xander,” Tristen said quietly, a rare trace of sadness in his voice.

“But could you do something about it? I know you want her out of the academy, but at least—at least let’s take care of her while she’s here. That’s the least we can do… for both of them.” He looked down, his words hanging heavily in the air. Jonathan’s death was something we’d both carry with us for the rest of our lives.

I turned away, my frustration building again. “Like I said before, I’m not going to use my power to help a preppy, home-schooled girl who thinks this academy is her personal dollhouse. She chose this path. Let her walk it—shoes or bare feet, I don’t care. Maybe the little scratches she gets along the way will help her gain her senses.” I paused, meeting Tristen’s gaze with a cold edge. “And maybe, if you’re right, she’ll gain them fast enough to leave this place just as quickly.”

Tristen sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re more like him than anyone else. Even giving the poor girl tough love, just like he used to preach when we talked about siblings.”

Then he chuckled, and the sound was unexpectedly nostalgic. “Do you remember?” he asked, catching me off guard.

I didn’t say anything, but Tristen continued anyway. “I wonder if he was actually tough on her. If he was, she’ll definitely need the lessons he taught her if she’s going to survive this place—especially when a monster like you wants her out.”

I scoffed, leaning back against the couch. Jonathan had always believed in tough love, well at least, here in the academy he was not a softy, that was one of the reasons I made him my beta at just 16 years old unofficially and at 17 officially when he met his wolf. If 'preppy girl' was anything like him, she’d figure things out soon enough.