This is Skallagrim, I remind myself.Not my childhood home.
Steeling myself, I head into the suite’s common area.
A short girl with sleek black hair is pulling on a coat over her clingy sweaterdress. She has warm bronze skin and rich brown eyes, looking stylish in her outfit and pointed boots.She’sa berserkr? She looks way too elegant to become an animal.
“Finally, another girl,” she says with a smile. Her hair is smooth and shiny, perfectly straight, and reaches down to her lower back. Mine is the exact opposite: chopped short and damaged from bleach, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Tala Mebarak,” she continues, sizing me up.
I keep my distance. “I’m Edith Holden.”
“Well, welcome to Skallagrim and all that,” she says. “So how—”
“Sorry, I’m late for class,” I say, beelining for the door.
Tala follows me out into the hall. “What class?”
“Psychology,” I say, gripping my backpack.
Tala grins. “Me too. We can head over to Ulf Building together.”
While we walk down the hallway, she asks, “What are you anyway?”
“Huh?”
“You know, what kind of berserkr are you? I’m a wolf,” Tala adds as if that will help me.
I shrink back. “I… don’t know.”
“You’ve never transformed?” Tala sniffs the air. “Guess that explains why I can’t scent you.” She frowns, offering a look of sympathy. “That must be hard.”
“Not really,” I say weakly.
I don’twantto transform. I need to learn hownotto.
“What about your parents?” she asks. “Usually we take after them.”
I frown. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
Thankfully, Ulf Building isn’t far, only a five-minute walk from the dorms.
Our classroom looks surprisingly… normal, other than the stone floors and walls. Instead of individual desks, there are a handful of tables with chairs. Tala takes a seat in the front and looks my way. “You can sit with me.”
“Thanks.” Not wanting to be rude, I join her and quickly start rifling through my bag.
Tala turns to me. “So, why did you wait this long to come to Skallagrim?”
I grab my notebook. “I’d… rather not talk about that,” I say, carefully arranging my desk. “What about you? Have you been here long?”
“Since I was six,” Tala says, holding her face with one hand. “My parents are on the school board, so I’ve always known I’d go here.” She rolls her eyes. “Skallagrim is practically all they talk about.”
A woman in her mid-thirties walks in, her red hair a shock of color against her green sweater and jeans. She drops her bag on the desk before taking a seat. A deep scar cuts across her face. Even though I must be staring, she smiles like she’s used to it.
“I’m your instructor, Maeve,” she says. “Edith, right?”
“Right.”
She glances between me and Tala. “Why don’t you help Edith get up to speed since she’s joining us mid-semester.”
