18.2 The Long Game

I know, I know. I promise—my best behavior, Tempest lamented. And hey—talk in your head now, she reminded as they pulled onto university property. After circling the lot, Nuri finally found a spot close to the entrance.
"Do you think there's a directory? I have no idea where Moira's office is," she said out loud, then winced. ‘He could have told us where her office is.’
‘Look—building to your left. I see a directory board!’ Tempest exclaimed, smugly proud she’d spotted it first through Nuri’s eyes.
‘Tempest for the win!’ Nuri grinned inwardly, picturing herself pumping her fist in the air. Tempest giggled, making Nuri blinked in surprise.
‘Wait... did you see that?’
‘No, but I knew what you were picturing. It was enough.’
‘Aww, I thought we had a super cool wolfy power for a second,’ Nuri joked, scanning the board. Her nerves calmed when she spotted “M. Gerard – Dean” and assumed that had to be Moira. ‘Double win for you, Temp. We’re even in the right building, with time to spare.’
‘Maybe we do have a super cool wolfy power.’
‘Oh, great.’ Nuri’s thoughts turned dry as she rounded the corner and saw a crowd of twenty girls cluttering the hallway outside Moira’s office, chatting over lattes. They went quiet the moment they noticed her.
‘Don’t you dare show those literal bitches a single shred of weakness. Remember who we are,’ Tempest growled, her pride swelling.
‘Damn right.’ Nuri straightened her spine and walked directly through the center of the hallway, forcing the girls to part around her rather than retreating to the wall like she might have days ago.
The stares came. The whispers followed. The nasty hybrid. But for the first time in her life, it didn’t bother her. Whether it was the chance waiting behind that door or the “my mate is the alpha” trump card, she didn’t falter until she stood before the office and knocked.
“Yes?” came the crisp response. The woman who opened the door was tall, at least four inches taller than Nuri, with wavy brunette hair and sharp honey-brown eyes. Her polite expression dropped the moment she saw her visitor.
"Hi, I’m—"
"I know who you are. Come in," Moira interrupted, stepping aside with a scrutinizing glance that turned her lip into a sneer. "Nuri Williamson. Daughter of Alvin Williamson... and his human wife."
"Bella Williamson," Nuri corrected, jaw tight, taking a seat across from Moira and crossing her legs.
"Is that so?" Moira's face remained unreadable. She tilted her head, examining Nuri again. "What made you think that was an appropriate style choice? Have you no respect for academia?" She gestured to Nuri’s midsection with her pen.
"If I’d known I was coming here, I’d have dressed differently," Nuri replied sweetly, though her smile was pure restraint. Moira could tell—and seemed to feed off the tension. "Weird though... Kalmin didn’t mention this was a fashion critique."
‘Yes, Nuri! That was awesome!’ Tempest crowed.
"You’ll need to take it off regardless," Moira said, pulling a thick binder from her desk and dropping it with a thud.
"Excuse me?"
"I need to see your wolf, Miss Williamson. It’s part of enrollment. You’re not the only one tested." Moira’s voice sharpened. ‘I can’t believe a hybrid is setting foot in my academy. It’s an insult to the generations of Bransons who built it.’
"Her name is Tempest," Nuri said flatly, standing and kicking off her shoes. She looked around. Moira’s office was packed: shelves on one side, a desk on the other, and a small furnished sitting area. Not a single open space big enough.
‘What’s she going to do?’ Moira’s wolf asked. ‘Did you hear? Her wolf has a name.’
‘I heard,’ Moira muttered, pen hovering over the first test box. Most students failed. Either they shifted recklessly, destroying furniture, or they asked for help. Neither was the correct response.
Nuri sighed. There wasn’t room, and Moira wasn’t helping. Her gaze darted to the hallway and lit up. ‘Guess we’re shifting out there,’ she told Tempest, pulling her shirt over her head and folding her clothes neatly on the chair. ‘Thank god,’ she thought as the hallway turned out to be empty. Walking past the group of girls was one thing, but shifting in front of them was another.
‘She chose right,’ Moira murmured, ticking a box. ‘My respect for her has gone from nonexistent... to slightly less than zero.’
Tempest walked back in, closing the door with a paw, then sat before the desk, waiting.
"Turn around," Moira said, circling her with the pen, prodding her flank and chest, then scribbling notes. "Open," she commanded. Tempest showed her teeth. Moira nodded. "Shift back."
Nuri dressed quickly, eyes on the binder as Moira scribbled more notes. She knew Tempest was smaller than most wolves. She just hadn’t realized how much it would matter.
"Answer these to the best of your ability," Moira said, tossing a booklet on the desk. "I’ll return shortly."
‘Oh great,’ Nuri groaned after skimming the first few questions. They were brutal. “What year was the pack formed?” “Who was the first Blue River alpha?” “Name the five founding families.”
‘How are we supposed to know any of this? We weren't even allowed to be real pack members,’ Tempest snapped.
‘Same test for everyone,’ Nuri thought bitterly. ‘Except we were never invited to the bonfires or the celebrations where everyone else probably learned this stuff.’
It didn’t get better. Terminology. Bylaws. Lineage. “General knowledge.” The only question Nuri could confidently answer was: ‘What is the distinction between merging and mind-melding?’
‘Don’t cry’, Tempest said gently. ‘It’s not our fault. It’s theirs—for deciding we weren’t worthy of an education.’
‘The only thing stopping me from crying right now is knowing we’re doing this so other hybrids won’t have to go through it,’ Nuri replied, biting her tongue when Moira returned with a stack of books taller than her.
"We usually don’t let materials leave the academy. But since Kalmin says you won’t be attending classes the normal way..." Moira dropped the stack beside Nuri. "You’ll need these to study." She sat and held out her hand for the booklet.