426- Shards of Memory
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
Humans still had it easy — they only needed to study a single culture, their own. Something quite simple and trivial. It didn't even compare to that of lupines, with their countless histories and cultures.
Although I knew a great deal about wolves, I knew little about how the packs actually functioned. My father said they operated like distinct peoples, each with its own culture and way of doing things, different from one another.
I enjoyed living among humans, having been raised in their midst. No one knew the truth about me, and I was free. There was no alpha to command me and fire off orders I would be forced to obey. I had no friends — there was never enough time to find someone with whom I could form a bond. Whenever it happened, we needed to leave the city in a hurry. For a while, I tried to find someone, even just a girlfriend, but as the years went by, I gave up on the idea and focused on textbooks, turning them into my best company.
In the last city where we stayed for a few months, I met Bethany, a classmate. She had an older brother who was absurdly hot. Jonathan and I had a brief romance, until my father noticed the Mercantes drawing closer. It was fun — Jon was wonderful, and Beth was a great companion. They were the closest thing to friendship I had known in my entire life.
If it hadn't been for the move, I was certain we would have started a real relationship, but unfortunately it amounted to nothing more than something trivial. Just sex without commitment. Jonathan took my virginity, taught me a few things, and... the Mercantes showed up, ruining any possible future.
To console me, my father said it wouldn't have worked out anyway. I was an omega and needed a partner worthy of me. Although there were relationships between wolves and humans, he said he was certain something great was reserved for me.
I didn't know whether to believe that, or if it was simply the jealousy of a father over his only daughter's first "boyfriend." Either way, I didn't mind. I didn't allow myself to grow attached enough to people to suffer from their absence. In the end, I would always leave, always have to go, and always end up alone. It wasn't so bad — there was an upside too. New places, new people, new cultures.
Someday, I would become a great historian, like my father. Although he didn't fully approve of that ambition, deep down I knew he was proud. He was afraid for me — afraid of the life I would have to lead if the Mercantes began hunting me the way they hunted him.
I turned my eyes back to the clock, staring at the hands without blinking, as if I could make time pass faster.
Boredom was the greatest enemy of the anxious.
The last time I felt this way was when I turned twenty-one. My father dragged me to a cabin in the middle of the forest to spend my birthday weekend and prepare me for my first transformation. We spent hours in silence, simply waiting for time to pass. After it happened, I understood why he had taken me to the middle of nowhere, as far from civilization as possible.
That birthday was nowhere near one of my favorite memories. The first transformation hurt so much I thought I was going to die. But afterward, there were only benefits. My instincts sharpened — all of them. I began to hear better, to smell things more keenly, I grew stronger and moved faster than an ordinary human.
I liked that — being different. Living among humans was good; I didn't fear them. I walked with the certainty that they could do nothing to me. And that sense of security was, in a way, deeply reassuring.
The alarm sounded loudly and abruptly, making my eardrums ring. I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut, breathing deeply. It was always painful when it went off. For the humans it didn't seem to be — none of them showed any sign of being bothered by the shrill noise.
I gathered the materials from my desk and stood up, slinging the brown backpack over my shoulder. I descended the steps at a deliberate pace, not looking to either side, perfectly content and ready for the next class, which would be far less tedious.
I greeted the professor with a simple nod before leaving the room and slipping into the hallway packed with students wandering toward their next classes.
I had no friends at that university — only a few acquaintances with whom I had been forced to work on some assignment at some point. After Beth and Jon, I had closed myself off to people even further. I never knew when we might have to move again at a moment's notice, so it was far better not to form any attachment to anyone.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom, stopping in front of the wide mirror above the sinks. I rested my hands on the porcelain counter and let out a sigh, studying my reflection.
My eyes, a deep brown, gazed back with a certain weariness, framed by long lashes. My face was serene, but there was a firmness in my slightly full lips — something that was part of me, part of who I was and the upbringing I carried. Danger was always lurking, circling me for being a Moonclaw, and that kept me constantly alert to everything around me.
My light brown hair, streaked with blonde highlights, fell in loose waves over my shoulders, nearly grazing the hem of my grey sweater. The neutral tone of the fabric contrasted delicately with my bronzed skin. My slender figure had soft, gentle curves — the result of my entire training routine.
I turned on the tap and splashed some water on my face.
The bathroom door opened and a few female students walked in. I straightened up and pulled some paper towels to dry myself. They watched me, curious, through narrowed glances.
With my sharpened hearing, I could catch everything they whispered about me — about Professor William's daughter, the isolated, strange girl who never spoke to anyone.