SELENE
Sunlight came through the tall windows of the lecture hall in long, warm strips. The room smelled like old books and fresh ink.
Around me, students filled the seats quickly, talking about weekend plans and tests they hadn't studied for yet. I kept my head down and opened my notebook, trying to focus.
Professor Harlan walked in. He was tall, with silver streaks cutting through his dark hair and eyes that caught every small movement in the room. He set a thick book on the desk and looked at all of us like he was reading something written on our faces.
"Today we begin our study of Bloodlines," he said.
"Every werewolf in this academy carries the blood of the ancient houses. Some lines are strong and well known. Others have grown quiet over the years, waiting for the right momen
