Intro & Chapter 1 - Ayn

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"Please, please, not to a werewolves' pack!" I beg again and I feel my eyes burning with tears.

Clan Leader Sibylle tries to act unimpressed, but at the same time, she is averting my gaze.

"Healer, we have been through this multiple times in the last few days. First of all, they are not werewolves, they are lycans, shapeshifters that have wolves as their non-human form."

"Potato, potato" I pout, but she ignores my cheekiness and recites for me as if she would be reading from the Witches' Council code:

"Students are expected to leave the Teaching Clan when they turn eighteen. They go back to their homes, to practice the craft and strengthen their inner being in the safety of their families. Two years - or more - of hard work it takes for young witches to grow wings. Once they are able to fly, they are free to join a coven of their choosing or start their own, or work otherwise, as they see fit. Luna Teresa and Alpha Xander's pack is the closest you have to a family."

"Really, Clan Leader? A werewolves' pack is the closest I have to a family?"

"A shapeshifters' pack" she corrects me, but I keep speaking angrily over her words.

"Closer than...staying here? Closer than...any other of my parents' friends?"

"Healer, I have just explained to you why you cannot stay in school. I don't know why Morgane and Ray named Teresa as your first point of contact. You'll have the chance to ask her when you are there." Sybille is looking at the clock on her wall and I feel she is getting ready to dismiss me.

"You realize that my parents probably chose that female before they knew they would die eaten by werewolves?" I spit at her.

Sybille recites for me again:

"For every being that lives in the dark, there are tens of thousands who chose to stay in the light. It applies to witches, shapeshifters, and regular humans alike.

We have contacts with many packs and are happy to support them with our powers. In return, the shapeshifters are ready to fight alongside us in times of need. As I told you, your mother even chose to work for a while as a pack witch after she got her wings."

Yes, she had told me, but she had also told me that this was part of my mom's life plan, to practice and develop her healing craft for all subspecies - magic people, werewolves, and regular humans. And her experience was irrelevant to me for three reasons. First, I was not as ambitious as my mother; my life plan had been limited to finding ways to have enough fun while avoiding detention. Second, I wasn't going there under the safety of the pack witch assignment, but only like some sort of orphan refugee. Third, werewolves smelled.

I still remember the day when my parents were killed. The first thing my senses had captured was the stench of oily fur and stale blood. At the time that smell was unfamiliar to me but by the end of that day, it was terrifyingly engraved in my memory. The thought that I will have to live in a house where it reeked like that all the time turns my stomach and makes me shudder. I gag and Sybille touches my wet cheek, and as she speaks her voice holds the slightest compassionate note.

"Healer, I have to honor Morgane's wish...I am trying to find a solution for your second year, but for now, we need to work with what is available."

"Please?" I try one last time and now the tears cannot be held back.

"Enough!" she whispers with a shaky voice, as she rests her hand across my wet cheeks. "I trust you will do well, Ayn. You are a brilliant witch when you focus on the craft and not on doing the worst mischief possible. Go pack your things, Teresa's daughter will pick you up this afternoon. And drop by before you leave, I need to give you something."

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