Chapter 2

2 — The First Changing

“Byron! Stop it!” Nafisa's authoritative voice interrupted the gathering. “We can't force it out of her!” She stomped to the center of the assemblage, coming in-between Byron Eggles, the lycanthropy coach and Lena Banecroft who laid helpless and shamefaced on the floor.

“So how the hell are we gonna do it then?” Byron cried. “She's an adult now and she can't even bring out fangs! Fangs, Nafisa!”

Nafisa offered Lena her hand. Lena didn't accept, she pushed herself off the ground and got on her feet. Nafisa gave her an asserting nod. “And so what?” She turned to Byron. “You wanna bully it out of the girl? Make her angry enough so she can change?”

“Bullying, no.” Byron shook his head. “That ain't what I am doing. But if I have to piss her off enough to show me some fangs, that's what I'm gonna do, Nafisa.” He lunged for Lena.

“Yeah, that's bullying,” Nafisa said, getting in the way. “You're a coach, Byron. The lycanthropy coach to be exact.”

“Shut the fuck up, are you explaining my job to me?”

“What am saying is —” she held him back once again from going after Lena. “— Byron, your job is to guide the students through their changes. . . when it happens. Not forcing them in hopes to quicken the process, it doesn't work that way.”

Byron sighed. “She's twenty-four, Nafisa. Everyone who was in her set and the set after her are all full-blown wolves now. This ain't normal.  

A werewolf that can't change is a liability. I think it's time we brought this to the Alpha.”

Nafisa frowned, eyes widened and brows raised. She turned around to glance at Lena who was still standing, engulfed in dry dirt as she watched the both of them.

“You want to bring Elijah into this?” Nafisa asked Byron.

“Yes,” Byron replied, nodding his head with such proud certainty.

“Our Alpha of Alphas?”

“Yes,” he nodded again.

“The Lycan King?”

“I already said yes, Nafisa. What the fuck?”

“I'm just saying,” she shrugged. “What is it you intend to tell him?”

“That Lena Banecroft is not a werewolf, or at least she doesn't seem to be!” Muffled laughter and quit mutterings could be heard amongst the students in the gathering. Lena refused to look at them.

“She doesn't seem to be?” Nafisa asked Byron, raising a brow.

“Yes. . . what?”

“So you're not sure? Do you know what Elijah would do to you if it turns out you're wrong about this?”

“Alright, hold on, hold on,” Byron licked his small dry lips, wetting his mustache in this process. “It's not that I'm not sure. . . it's just that. . .”

“It's just that what?” Nafisa pressured.

The silence that ensued was escorted by quieter giggles amongst the students.

“I think what the coach is trying to say is that maybe there was human blood somewhere amongst the Bancrofts,” someone said from the crowd. “Maybe that's why Lena is . . . human.”

Not long after the declaration, the entire gathering erupted in a laughter fest. Nafisa turned to look at Lena who seemed to not only be fighting tears but also her wobbling feet. She faced the crowd, a fiery look in her eyes.

“Who said that?” she yelled to the students. The answer was lagging and that made her irate the more. “I'm only going to count to a certain number, you're not gonna know what it is. But if I get to that number and the person who said that profanity hasn't been fished out. . .” She let go of Byron and walked towards the crowd in the direction that she heard the voice. “One!” she started. “Two—”

“It was Larks!” 

“Yeah, it was Larks.”

Nafisa sighed. Of course it was. “Larks Fletcher, come out here.”

Two seconds later, a blonde tall boy approached Nafisa from the crowd. His face painted with pride but like her wolfself, Nafisa could smell his fear. “Yes, Miss?”

“Larks.” She smirked on his smug face. “You're on toilet duty for a week.”

“What?”

“For a week.” She repeated before turning around and grabbing Lena, walking away from the gathering.

“Can she do that?” Lena heard Larks ask as she was dragged by Nafisa's firm grasp.

“Of course, she's an enforcer,” she heard someone say.

When they were finally far away from the crowd, Nafisa let go of Lena's arm. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“You didn't have to do that,” Lena said, dusting her trousers.

“Yes, I did,” Nafisa objected. “Byron was being a dick to you and so was everyone else.”

“Well, yeah. I kinda deserve it, don't I?”

Nafisa sighed, shaking her head as she tried not to look too pitiful. She knew it would vex Lena.

“Lena. Don't be hard on yourself. The change is taking its time with you, so what? You shouldn't be ridiculed because of that.”

“Tell me, Nafisa. Do you think what he said is true?” Lena asked, frowning despicably.

“Who? Larks? That boy is a doofus, you shouldn't be listening to him. You're a wolf, every Bancroft ever has been a wolf. A true blood. The Bancroft is one of the most decorated names in the Landing, you shouldn't doubt yourself, Lena.”

“How can I be a fucking werewolf when I can't even change?” Lena cried. “It doesn't make sense. I should be angry at Byron. In fact, I should hate him but I don't blame him. He's had to deal with me for like four years now. It's not normal for me not to be able to change. I'm twenty-four for fuck's sake. It's not normal.”

Nafisa grabbed Lena's shoulders, her voice calm and soothing. “Listen to me, Lena. Some things take time, some take even more time than others, but that doesn't mean it won't happen. You're a werewolf, it's your destiny. And it can be delayed for as long as it pleases but it can't be denied. It will happen. You just. . . gotta believe. If you want something to happen, well, first you have to believe.”

Lena stared at Nafisa. She often wondered at times why Nafisa was always so nice to her. She was the only person in the wolf landing who was. And even more surprising, she was an enforcer, most of the enforcers didn't like her. Not even her pack.

She sighed. “I gotta go,” she said before shoving Nafisa out of her way and walking off in the snow. She knew she was being mean but it couldn't really bother her at the moment. All she could think about, all that bothered her was why she wouldn't change.

“Where have you been?” Erin attacked her the moment she walked into their territory, bombarding her with questions.

“What is it?” Lena asked. She regretted the question immediately because she knew Erin would go all out from there.

“What happened with you and Larks?”

“Me and Larks?” Lena eyed her. “Nothing. Is he saying something happened between us?”

“Yup,” Erin replied, almost tripping as she tried to keep up with Lena. “He says he's gonna deal with you.”

Lena hit the brakes, turning to give Erin a confused stare. “Deal with me? What the hell did I do?”

“That's what I'm trying to find out,” Erin shrugged. “That's why I'm asking you.”

Tiffany took a second to glare at Erin. Of course, she wasn't stupid, she knew Erin had no authentic sympathy for her or the situation. She was just in search of a hot topic to tattle about with her friends. “Fuck off, Erin,” she said, walking away. “You're just here to get something to gossip about. Get a job or something, seriously.”

She entered inside the bungalow, ignoring the staring eyes of Karl and Jennifer who were having lunch. She pushed open her door and swam inside her room, relieved to be all alone with her —

“Larks?” Lena couldn't help but frown at the sight of Larks Fletcher. He was sitting on her bed, looking straight at a painting hanging across from the furniture in a manner that would make one think he had an artistic mind. “Larks!” she called again. He slowly turned his face to her, a vexing smirk below his pointed nose that she wished she could peel right off.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes widened.

“You made me get toilet duty today.” Larks' voice was silent and cold. A scheming tone in the manner at which he spoke.

“Oh, I did that?” Lena asked sarcastically, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the doorknob. “You know what? I don't have time for this, kid. Just get the hell out of my room? I've got things I need done.”

“Why do you always call me that?” Larks asked, his calm voice was starting to sound even creepier.

“What? Kid?”

“Yes.”

“Cause that's what you are,” she replied, her patience running out. “You're like what? Nineteen? You're a kid. Now leave my room.”

“I'm turning twenty soon,” Larks said, getting up on his feet slowly. “I'm a man now. Yeah, I'm a man.”

Lena narrowed her eyes at him, her eyebrows squeezed and her hair stood. Something was wrong with him, he was sweating profusely and his eyes — they were so bizzare. Like he wanted something, flames blazing inside of them. Flames of desire.

“Alright then,” Lena said, trying not to let her instinct drive her to do anything rash. But the crawling fear continued to climb up her neck.

“Good for you. So leave now. . . Payne would be calling us for a meeting soon,” she lied.

“Is that why you don't like me. . . why don't you think of me in t-that w-way,” Larks stammered. “Because I'm a kid?”

Lena's eyes widened. Oh no, this wasn't good. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Calm down, Larks. This has nothing to do wi—”

“I'm a man!” 

In that last moment, the only picture Lena could recall was Larks' red burning eyes above his sharp werewolf fangs lunging hungrily towards her.

                                         ꂦ                                               

********************

“Lena! What did you do!”

The voice sounded like it was muffled, and there were other voices too. Some whispering and some yelling. There was a loud ringing sound in her ears and all of a sudden she wasn't too fond of the light spraying in from the window across from her. What was going on?

“Lena!”

“Lena!” She felt a hand grab her by the arm and attempt to pull her up. Lena's body refused.

The voices soon after started to clear. She continued to squint her eyes on the light while taking deep breaths hoping to stop the vertigo.

“What happened, Lena?”

“What did you do?”

“She's killed him.”

The words were clearer now. She blinked her eyes slowly before opening them, the first thing she could make out were her hands. But she couldn't recognize them because it seemed they were filled with red paint.

As her eyes started to adjust to the bright surrounding, she started to make out a face. It was a familiar one; blonde, young, full brows, long— the nose wasn't there. Lena's eyes widened, the face had been torn open and so was his chest. She bit her lip in horror but then stopped. That was a weird taste. It was blood, and her face was completely drenched in it. She started to shake her head as she quickly recognized who the person on the floor was. Larks Fletcher. Chest torn open, faceless.

Her mouth began to shiver in fear.

“Lena?” She heard Payne's voice beside her. 

“Huh?” she replied, turning around in horror.

“Lena, what the hell did you do?”