Chapter 162

• Exam week at Silverfang felt like a war zone disguised as a school. The halls were packed tighter than usual, papers clutched in sweaty hands, everyone moving like soldiers to and from classrooms. Even the teachers looked worn down, their voices rasping as they tried to maintain order. The scent of tension and ink and wolf musk hung over everything. My own pack of friends, if you could even call us that, looked like they were in it but not of it.
• Milo spent more time at the back of the room drawing eggplants and peaches on his test papers than actually answering questions.
• He’d nudge me during breaks, whispering jokes about how he was going to “wing it” because who cared about grades when you were already set to inherit a pack.