Chapter 2 Blood Doesn't Mean Family

• My hand flew to my collarbone before I even reached the front desk.
• The amulet was still there, warm against my skin, but the clasp felt loose, shifting when it shouldn't have. I pressed it flat with my palm and forced myself to breathe. Rhett was still watching me from across the hall. I made myself walk to the desk instead of looking back.
• "Name?" the woman at the desk asked, not glancing up.
• "Wren Ashby."
• Her fingers paused over the keyboard. Just for a second. Long enough that I noticed.
• "Ashby," she repeated. "As in Bloodrose pack?"
• "Yes."
• She looked up at me then, something unreadable crossing her face before she caught herself and smiled too wide. "Right. Here's your key, room 214. The dining hall opens at six."
• I took the key and walked away fast, suitcase wheels clattering against the marble, my ears hot. It always happened like that. Someone would say my last name and their whole face would shift, like they were remembering a story I'd never gotten to hear the full version of.
• The dorm hallway on the second floor smelled like fresh paint and somebody's cinnamon candle. I found 214 and pushed the door open, relieved to finally be somewhere quiet.
• I wasn't alone.
• "You've got to be kidding me."
• Dahlia stood by the window, arms crossed, her dark hair falling in perfect waves like she hadn't just spent six hours traveling. She looked at me the way she always did, like I was a stain she hadn't noticed until it was too late to avoid.
• "They put us together," I said, because someone had to say it out loud.
• "Clearly a mistake." She turned back to the window. "I already asked for a room change. Don't worry, it won't take long."
• I set my suitcase down slower than I needed to, giving myself a second to steady my voice. "You could've just said hi."
• "Hi," she said flatly, not turning around. "Happy?"
• I wasn't going to win this, not with her, not ever. I'd learned that a long time ago, back when we were kids and she used to tell the other pack children I was cursed because my parents died and I didn't. Kids believed her. Some adults did too.
• "Uncle Fergus asked me to check on you," I said, even though it wasn't entirely true. He'd said it more like an afterthought, a duty he remembered at the last second.
• Dahlia finally turned around, and something flickered behind her eyes, gone as fast as it came. "How sweet of him. Did he also mention he's coming for Founder's Weekend? Because I heard he's staying with the Calloways personally this time." Her mouth curled. "Guess he's finally figured out who actually matters."
• I didn't answer. There wasn't a version of that conversation that didn't end badly.
• She grabbed her bag off the bed. "I'm rooming with Priya. Don't touch my things while I'm gone." She paused at the door, looking back at me like she'd just remembered something. "Oh, and Wren? Try not to embarrass the family name this year. I know it's hard for you."
• The door shut before I could respond, which was probably for the best, because my throat had gone tight and nothing good ever came out of my mouth when it did that.
• I sat down on the edge of the bed that was apparently mine now, alone in a room built for two, and finally let myself breathe.
• That was when I felt it. The amulet shifted against my skin, the clasp catching wrong, and a jolt ran straight through my chest like static.
• The room blurred.
• Not my eyesight. Something else, something underneath it, like a second image trying to push through the first. I saw the hallway outside, empty, then not empty. A boy standing at the far end, tall, dark-haired, back turned. Then blood spread slowly across the stone floor, and a voice I didn't recognize saying words I couldn't catch.
• I gasped and pressed both hands against my chest, and the image ripped away as fast as it came.
• The amulet was warm under my palm, too warm, and when I looked down, I saw it. A hairline crack running through the clasp, thin as a thread, but there.
• "No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
• I fumbled through my suitcase for the small sewing kit I always packed, my hands shaking too hard to thread the needle on the first three tries. This had happened once before, years ago, when the chain slipped during a run through the woods. The visions had come back for one single night, and it had been the worst night of my life.
• I couldn't let that happen here. Not at Emberfall. Not with everyone already watching me like I didn't belong.
• A knock hit the door, sharp and sudden, and I nearly dropped the needle.
• "Wren?" It was Kian's voice, muffled through the wood. "You in there? Orientation starts in ten minutes, and trust me, you don't want to walk in late. People remember that stuff."
• I shoved the amulet under my collar, out of sight, and pressed my palm flat against my chest one more time, willing my heart to slow down.
• "Coming," I called, my voice steadier than I felt.
• I looked down at the crack in the clasp one more time before I opened the door, and a cold, sinking feeling settled low in my stomach.
• Whatever I'd just seen in that flash of vision, it wasn't nothing.
• And somewhere out there, someone was about to bleed.