Aria’s POV
That night, I could barely sleep.
Every possible disaster played through my mind on an endless loop. Lina getting overwheld by the noise and chaos. Lina accidentally breaking sothing—a desk, a toy, another child’s arm. Lina being rejected by the other children despite all of Mrs. Thornwood’s assurances about kindness and inclusion.
I stared at the ceiling. Counted the cracks in the plaster. Listened to the wind rustling through the trees outside.
What if this was a mistake?
What if I was setting her up for more heartbreak?
The human schools had been hard enough. But at least there, she was just "different." Here, in the wolf world, she was the daughter of a wolfless mother. A half-breed raised among humans. An outsider in every possible way.
I rolled onto my side. Punched my pillow. Tried to find a comfortable position.
Sleep never ca.
By the ti morning light crept through the curtains, I was exhausted. My eyes burned. My head throbbed. Every muscle in my body felt like lead.
But Lina was the opposite—bouncing off the walls with nervous energy.
"Mommy, is it ti yet?" She appeared at my bedroom door, already dressed in her new uniform. The navy blue dress was slightly too big, the white collar crooked, but she looked adorable. "Is it? Is it ti?"
"Almost, baby." I dragged myself out of bed. Forced a smile. "Eat your breakfast first."
"I’m not hungry."
"Three bites. Then we go."
She managed five. A small victory.
I watched her push scrambled eggs around her plate, her little leg bouncing impatiently under the table. She was nervous too—I could see it in the way she kept glancing at the clock, in the way she chewed her bottom lip.
But her nervousness was different from mine. Hers was anticipation. Excitent. Hope.
Mine was pure, undiluted terror.
---
The drive to Silverpine felt shorter today. Or maybe I was just dreading it more.
The morning sun painted everything in shades of gold and green. Trees lined the road like sentinels, their leaves rustling in the breeze. It should have been peaceful. Calming.
It wasn’t.
My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white.
The parking lot was already filling up when we arrived. Expensive cars lined up in an orderly queue. Parents in designer clothes chatting by the entrance. Children in matching uniforms running across the manicured lawn.
Everything so normal. So routine. So utterly terrifying.
Except for my hamring heart.
I parked the car. Sat there for a mont. Tried to rember how to breathe.
"Mommy?" Lina’s voice was small. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine, baby." I turned to look at her. Those black-gold eyes—so like his—stared back at with concern. "Just thinking about how proud I am of you."
Her face softened. "Really?"
"Really really."
I got out. Walked around to her door. Helped her unbuckle.
Her hand found mine imdiately. Warm and small and trusting.
Together, we walked toward the east wing.
---
The Sunflower classroom was at the end of a long hallway decorated with children’s artwork. Finger paintings. Crayon drawings. Handprints in every color of the rainbow.
A young woman stood at the door—blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, gentle smile, wearing a soft yellow cardigan that matched the classroom’s the.
"You must be Lina!" She crouched down to Lina’s level, her eyes warm and welcoming. "I’ve been so excited to et you. I’m Miss Clara. I’ve heard you like to paint—is that true?"
Lina nodded shyly. Pressed closer to my leg.
"Well, guess what? We’re painting butterflies today. Do you want to make one?"
Another nod. Slightly more interested.
I crouched down too. Took both of Lina’s hands in mine.
"It’s okay," I said softly, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Miss Clara will take care of you. And I’ll be back this afternoon to pick you up. Right when school ends. I’ll be the first one here."
"Promise?" Her voice wobbled.
"Promise." I kissed her forehead. Breathed in her scent—baby shampoo and sothing sweet. "Be brave, baby. You’re going to do great. You’re going to make so many friends. And tonight, you can tell all about it. Okay?"
She took a deep breath. I watched her square her little shoulders. Watched her lift her chin. Watched her transform into the brave, determined girl I knew she was.
And then she walked into the classroom.
I stood there. Frozen. Unable to move.
Through the window, I watched her find a seat at a small table. Watched her pick up a paintbrush. Watched another little girl lean over to say sothing, and watched Lina smile in response.
She was okay.
She was going to be okay.
I stood there for another five minutes anyway. Just in case. Just to be sure.
"First day?"
A voice beside made jump. I turned to find another mother—wolf, based on the faint cedar scent clinging to her clothes—smiling sympathetically. She had kind eyes and laugh lines around her mouth.
"Is it that obvious?"
"You have the look." She laughed softly. "The ’I’m-about-to-have-a-heart-attack-but-trying-to-hide-it’ look. Don’t worry. We’ve all been there."
"Does it get easier?"
"It does." She touched my arm gently. "By the third day, you’ll be able to leave without pressing your face against the window. By the second week, you might even enjoy the quiet ti. I promise."
I hoped she was right.
God, I hoped she was right.
---
The hours crawled by like they were moving through honey.
I tried to distract myself. Explored every inch of Cassius’s cottage. Reorganized the kitchen cabinets. Alphabetized his bookshelf. Read twenty pages of a novel without absorbing a single word.
Nothing worked.
My mind kept drifting back to Silverpine. To Lina. To every possible thing that could go wrong.
I stared at my phone every thirty seconds, waiting for a call that never ca.
No call ant no ergency. Right?
Right.
No news was good news. That’s what people said.
I checked my phone again.
Still nothing.
I paced the living room. Made tea I didn’t drink. Stood at the window and watched absolutely nothing happen outside.
By 2:30, I was back in the car.
By 2:45, I was parked outside Silverpine, a full fifteen minutes early.
By 2:50, I was standing at the pickup area, practically vibrating with anxiety.
Other parents gathered around , forming loose clusters of conversation. Chatting about weekend plans. Laughing about sothing soone’s kid had said at breakfast. Scrolling through their phones with casual disinterest.
How were they so calm?
How did they do this every single day without losing their minds?
I checked my watch. 2:54.
Six more minutes.
I could survive six more minutes.
The doors opened at 3:00 exactly.
Children stread out like a dam had burst. Tiny bodies in matching navy uniforms, clutching artwork and lunchboxes and stuffed animals. Voices overlapping in excited chaos. Little feet pounding against the pavent.
I scanned the crowd desperately.
Where was she?
My heart hamred. My palms were sweating. Every second she didn’t appear felt like an eternity.
And then—
There.
Lina erged from the building, holding her teacher’s hand. Her uniform was slightly rumpled, paint stains on the sleeve. Her hair was escaping its pigtails in wild curls. Her cheeks were flushed.
And she was smiling.
Actually, genuinely, radiantly smiling.
My heart soared so high I thought it might burst right out of my chest.
I stepped forward. Arms open wide.
"Lina! Baby, over here!"
She spotted . Her face lit up like the sun coming out from behind clouds.
"Mommy!"
She started running toward . Those little legs pumping. That smile getting wider with every step.
I was three steps away from catching her in my arms. Three steps away from hearing about her day. Three steps away from holding her tight and finally, finally breathing again—
"CELESTIA!!"
The shout ca from sowhere behind . High-pitched. Demanding. Imperious. A little boy’s voice, cutting through the crowd like a knife through silk.
I froze.
Every nerve in my body went cold. Ice flooded my veins. The world seed to tilt sideways.
That na.
That impossible, horrible, haunting na.
I turned slowly. Every movent felt like pushing through water.
A boy stood about twenty feet away. Maybe four years old. Dark hair that fell across his forehead in an expensive cut. Amber eyes that blazed with impatience.
He was scanning the crowd frantically. Looking for soone. Looking for—
"CELESTIA!!" His voice rose even higher, sharp with childish frustration. "WHERE ARE YOU!"
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