Chapter 5 The Truth About Everything (Ember's POV)
"You need to eat something, you look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine."
"Right. Fine." Sage stabbed her scrambled eggs with unnecessary force. "That's why you've been vibrating like a tuning fork since you woke up."
I forced myself to take a bite of toast.
The movement drew attention from across the room, and I caught Knox Ravencrest watching me with those unsettling pale eyes of his.
"Don't look now," I murmured to Sage, "but your fan club is staring again."
She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me with raised eyebrows. "That's not my fan club, Em. That's yours. And they don't look particularly friendly."
She was right. Knox sat with five other football players at their usual table, but today their arrangement looked different.
Trey wasn't with them, at least that consoled me.
"This is insane," I whispered.
"Yeah, well, welcome to your new normal." Sage leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Look around. Really look."
I did, and my stomach dropped. The cafeteria had always had its social groups, but today the divisions were sharper.
"They're all watching each other," I breathed.
"Not each other. You." Sage's phone buzzed, and she glanced at it with a frown. "Principal Keagan wants to see you. Now."
"What?"
"Her secretary just texted. You were supposed to report to the office immediately." Sage grabbed my arm as I started to stand. "Em, whatever you do, don't tell them about last night. About the dirt or the dreams or any of it."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Promise me."
The desperation in her voice made me pause. "Why are you so scared?"
"Because I've been researching all night, and everything I found about supernatural phenomena says the same thing: stay hidden until you understand what you're dealing with." She squeezed my arm harder. "Promise me you won't tell them anything."
"I promise."
Principal Keagan's office smelled like stale coffee and disappointment.
"Sit down, Miss Thorne."
I perched on the edge of the chair across from her, my hands clasped in my lap to hide the trembling.
"Yesterday's assembly was quite the spectacle." Her voice was flat, professional, but I caught the edge underneath. "Care to explain what happened up there?"
"I read a poem." The words came out steadier than I felt. "That's all."
"That's all?" She leaned forward, her eyes sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Miss Thorne, I've been an educator for thirty-seven years. I know the difference between stage fright and whatever that was."
My throat felt dry. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" She opened a file on her desk. "Multiple witnesses reported that your... appearance... changed during your presentation. Your voice deepened. Your posture became more aggressive. And several students claim your eyes changed color."
"That's impossible."
"Is it?" She studied me like I was a specimen under a microscope. "Your academic records show consistent excellence, but your with this incident..."
"I work hard Mrs. Keagan."
"I'm sure you do. But I'm also sure there's more to this story." She closed the file with a sharp snap. "I'm considering suspension pending a full psychological evaluation."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "You can't..."
"I can and I will if I don't get answers." Her smile was cold as winter. "So I'll ask again: what happened in that assembly hall?"
I opened my mouth, desperate words forming on my tongue, when the office door opened behind me.
"Forgive the interruption." The voice was warm honey over steel. "But I believe there's been a misunderstanding."
I turned to see the new literature teacher stepping into the office.
"Ms. Silvermoon." Principal Keagan's tone cooled several degrees. "I wasn't aware you had an appointment."
"I don't. But I do have a vested interest in Miss Thorne's wellbeing." The woman, Ms. Silvermoon moved to stand beside my chair.
"As her literature teacher, I feel responsible for what happened yesterday."
"How so?"
"The poem she read was part of an assignment I gave her class. Creative writing based on personal dreams and subconscious imagery." Ms. Silvermoon's smile was perfectly professional. "I'm afraid I pushed my students to dig deep into their psyches without considering how vulnerable that might make them feel in a public setting."
Keagan's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't explain the physical changes witnesses reported."
"Adrenaline can do remarkable things to the human body, especially in someone as young and athletic as Miss Thorne." Ms. Silvermoon placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and the contact sent warmth shooting through me. "Combine that with stage lights and the power of suggestion, and you have a perfectly rational explanation for what people think they saw."
"You're suggesting mass hysteria?"
"I'm suggesting teenagers have active imaginations." The hand on my shoulder squeezed gently. "Miss Thorne is an excellent student who made a brave choice to share deeply personal work. Punishing her for that would send a terrible message to the rest of my class."
Principal Keagan stared at both of us for a long moment. I held my breath, waiting for her verdict.
"Miss Thorne," she said finally, "you're dismissed. But I'll be watching you closely. Any more incidents and we'll revisit this conversation."
I stood on unsteady legs. "Yes, ma'am."
"Ms. Silvermoon, a word?"
"Of course. Miss Thorne, please wait for me in the hallway."
I slipped out of the office, my heart still racing. Through the closed door, I could hear muffled voices but couldn't make out words. After what felt like an eternity, Ms. Silvermoon emerged, her expression unreadable.
"Walk with me," she said simply.
Her office was nothing like I'd expected. Instead of the usual academic clutter, the walls were lined with books that looked ancient, their leather spines cracked with age.
"Sit anywhere you're comfortable," she said, settling behind her desk.
I chose the chair closest to the door, still not entirely sure I could trust this woman who'd appeared out of nowhere to save me.
"Thank you," I said. "For what you did back there."
"Don't thank me yet." Her pale green eyes studied my face with uncomfortable intensity. "We need to talk, Ember. About what really happened yesterday. And about what happened to you last night."
My blood turned to ice. "I don't know what you mean."
She leaned forward, her voice gentle but unyielding. "You went running last night, didn't you? On four legs instead of two."
The words hit me like a slap. "That's impossible."
"Is it? After everything that's happened, is impossible really the word you want to use?"
I stared at her, my mind racing. She knew.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
"Someone who's been looking for you for a very long time." She stood and moved to the window, gazing out at the forest beyond the school grounds. "Tell me, Ember, do you remember anything about your parents?"
"They died when I was a baby. A fire accident."
"Is that what your grandmother told you?"
The question sent a chill down my spine. "Yes."
"Your grandmother was a wise woman. She knew that some truths are too dangerous for children to carry." Ms. Silvermoon turned back to face me, her expression infinitely sad. "But you're not a child anymore, are you? You're becoming something else. Something powerful. Something the world has been waiting for."
"I don't understand."
"Yesterday, when you read that poem, where did those words come from?"
I hesitated, then decided honesty might be my only option. "I wrote them in my sleep. They just... appeared on the page."
"Because they were already inside you. In your blood, in your bones, in the very essence of what you are." She moved closer, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "You're not just Ember Thorne, star volleyball player and honor student. You're the daughter of a bloodline that goes back centuries. You're the one the prophecy spoke of."
"What prophecy?"
"The one you recited yesterday. The day when the silver-eyed wolf would return to us." Her eyes were shining with something that might have been tears. "My God, you have your mother's eyes."
"My mother?"
"She had the same silver gaze, the same fierce spirit. She was the most beautiful wolf I ever knew." Ms. Silvermoon's voice broke slightly. "I held you when you were just three days old, Ember. Before everything went wrong. Before we lost you both."
My vision blurred. "Both? But she's dead. My parent's are both dead."
"Your mother is. She died protecting you and your father during the attack. But your father..."
"This isn't real," I whispered.
"I know it's overwhelming. But it is real, and you need to understand what you're dealing with." She knelt in front of my chair, her hands hovering just above mine. "You're not human, Ember. You're a werewolf. The last of the Silvermoon bloodline. And there are people, dangerous people who will kill to get to you."
"Werewolf." The word felt foreign on my tongue. "That's... that's insane."
"Is it more insane than growing claws in front of three hundred people? More insane than running through the forest in your dreams and waking up with proof that it really happened?"
I couldn't answer.
"I know you're scared," she continued. "I know you feel alone and confused and like your entire world has been turned upside down. But you're not alone. You have me now. And you have your friend Sage, who cares more about you than her own safety."
"Sage?"
"Did you think it was coincidence that she happened to have an app that detects supernatural auras? That she's been documenting strange behavior around the school?" Ms. Silvermoon's smile was gentle. "The Whitmore family has been protecting supernatural bloodlines for generations. Sage may not know her abilities yet, but her instincts are sharp."
My head was spinning. "This is too much."
"I know. But there's more you need to understand, and not much time to process it."
"I don't want any of this please." My voice cracked. "I just want to be normal."
"Normal isn't an option for you anymore. But survival is. And that's what we need to focus on now." She pulled a small silver pendant from her desk drawer. "This will help mask your scent and your aura. Wear it always. Don't let anyone see it."
I took the pendant with trembling fingers. It was warm to the touch, carved with symbols I didn't recognize.
"What am I supposed to do?" The question came out as barely a whisper.
"For now? Act normal. Go to classes, play volleyball, spend time with Sage. But be careful."
I stood on unsteady legs, clutching the pendant like a lifeline. "Why should I trust you?"
The question seemed to cause her physical pain. "Because I loved your mother like a sister. Because I held you as a baby and promised her I'd keep you safe. Because I'm the only person in this school who understands what you're going through." She paused, her voice growing soft. "And because right now, I'm all you have."
"I don't know what to do," I whispered.
"Start by surviving today. We'll figure out tomorrow when it comes."