Chapter 2

Boredom bled off Lenore—her foot tapping impatiently against the ground, bags slung on her shoulders. “Bruno, if you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving without you.” She warned, glancing over her shoulder at her brother; he was gathering his bags from the car. 

“Be nice to your brother, he’s new here.” Mrs Yuson scolded, earning a subtle eyeroll from her daughter. “And he’s perfectly capable of finding friends. Need I remind you I’m noticeably lacking in that department? The pack will likely induct him into their cult immediately, you don’t need to worry.” She replied dryly.

Bruno nudged her shoulder, wearing an excited smile, holding his suitcase and bags. “Come on, moron. Let’s go.” She led him forward by the shoulder, walking under the arched stone entrance way, past students who were dressed in the Nevermore uniform, unlike the two siblings.

“There are your friends,”—Lenore gestured to the werewolf pack—”if anyone bothers you, tell me. If you get lost, tell me. Now,”—she shoved him forward—”go have fun.” He offered her a nervous smile, then strode confidently towards the pack.

“Dropping him into the deep end, I see.” Wednesday commented from beside her. “He’ll be fine. If anyone bothers him, I’ll tear their throat out.” Lenore answered; the gothic girl gave a hum of approval. “What did you in the summer?”

“Scalped a serial killer, finished by book, perfected my psychic abilities.” Wednesday listed. “Oh, how very on brand.” Lenore replied. “I finished my book, too. Have you gotten a publisher yet?”

“Death by a thousand notes.” Wednesday sighed out, earning a wry chuckle from Lenore. 

“And I don’t imagine you intend to change any of it.” Lenore said. 

“No. They would have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.”

“Suppose we’ll have to see who gets published first.” Lenore muttered, watching as Wednesday’s eyes glimmered at the challenge, slowly turning to face her. A crooked, sharp-toothed grin twisted at Lenore’s lips. “Is that a challenge?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Lenore replied. “It is.” 

She offered the shorter girl her hand, who shook it firmly. “I will destroy you.” Wednesday told her.

Lenore laughed breathily, leaning down towards the gothic girl. “Wouldn’t be so sure, pup.” She teased. Wednesday glared at her, competition gleaming in her dark eyes.

“Could we get your autographs?” An unfamiliar voice asked, breaking them from their staring contest; Wednesday’s face fell into something akin to fear as she stared at them, while Lenore slapped her shoulder, “best of luck.” She said, walking off.

Wednesday stared at her, wide-eyed, “Lenore?” She called out, voice bordering on plea.

Lenore, however, simply laughed to herself—catching Wednesday getting saved by Bianca as she sauntered off, towards the doors of the school. As she walked along, her skin crawled as dozens of eyes settled on her—she knew she aided in Crackstone’s defeat—she didn’t expect this kind of popularity from it, though.

She quickened her steps, passing by students who tried to speak to her; worn wooden stairs creaked beneath her weight as she effortlessly jogged up them, towards her dorm in Ophelia Hall. She passed by a few familiar faces, who offered her smiles—which was different, she surmised it came from her new-found popularity.

She rolled her shoulders lazily as walked along the walls—she suddenly stopped, blood curdling when she noticed the door of dorm opened. Heat curled in her chest and sped into her room; bags were strewn around, a jacket thrown on a bed.

“Lorelai?” Lenore questioned suspiciously, upon recognising the braided head of her childhood friend, who spun around—a smile plastered on her face. “Oh, it’s my favourite grumpy fuck!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the werewolf, who tensed for a moment, then pulled Lorelai closer with a warm chuckle.

“What are you doing here? Last, I remember you were in a school across the country.” Lenore questioned once they pulled away.

“Well,”— Lorelai closed the door.—”I got expelled from my last school, my parents were done with me, so they shipped me off here.” She explained. “And you managed to room with me, how?” Lenore asked suspiciously, setting her belongings down on her side of the room.

“Did you siren-song the principle?” Lenore accused, crossing her arms over her chest. “No! You truly think that of me?”—she placed her hand over her heart dramatically—”just few board members.”

Lenore sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, unable to keep the light laughter from escaping her. “Why aren’t I surprised?” She asked. Lorelai grinned at her, pearly whites shining. “Come on, help me grab the rest of my stuff.” She said.

“Oh, does the big bad wolf need my help?” The teased playfully, ruffling Lenore’s monochromatic curls. “The big bad wolf’s going to pull an Odysseus on your ass in a second.” She muttered.

Lorelai laughed off her threat, looping her arm through Lenore’s, whom she dragged along—the werewolf could have easily stopped her, instead she allowed the siren to have her fun. They descended the stairs, gaining whispers from the students around them, noticeably surprised at the fond expression Lenore’s face.

Upon finding themselves downstairs, they stepped outside into the bustling yard; Lenore winced as the drowning sea of conversation hit her sensitive ears. “So,” Lorelai’s smooth voice cut through the chatter, “what’s the whole social hierarchy here?” She asked.

“Already intending to dethrone the current Queen Bee?” Lenore asked; the siren sent her a mischievous grin. “Oh, how well you know me.”

Lenore shook her head fondly, “alright, then. Over there.”—she gestured towards a group of smooth-skinned, blue-eyed people—”are your sirens. The main cliche’s, along with them, are werewolves, vampires and stoners.” She explained.

“Stoners?”

“Not like that.”

Lorelai visibly deflated. “They’re gorgons.” Lenore clarified. “There are also DaVinci’s, no faces, witches, shapeshifters and more than I can be bothered to list. Your girl, however, is over there,”—she gestured towards a pretty, dark-skinned woman in the centre of the sirens—”she’s Bianca Barclay, a siren like yourself, nice if not a little stuck up. She’s part of the Nightshades, the social elite.”

As they walked towards the exit, Lenore found herself searching for her younger brother, who thankfully, was laughing along the other wolves. He waved at her; she responded with a lazy flex of her hand.

Lenore and Lorelai came to the towering brick work, built into a smoothly curved arch, streaks ran down the stone from years of weathering. A few students observed them with curiosity, seemingly rumours of Lenore’s lack of friends had made the rounds based on the looks they were giving Lorelai.

Lenore’s parents had unpacked her remaining belongings from their car—they waited for their daughter to approach, Mrs Yuson shifted anxiously. “Where’s Bruno?” She fussed, brushing non-existent dust of Lenore’s shoulders.

“Making friends with the pack.” She responded; relief settled on her mother’s face. “I won’t allow anything to happen to him.” She reassured, earning a soft smile from her father. 

“Oh, I didn’t know Lorelai was joining this year?” She questioned.

“Nor did I.” Lenore replied dryly. 

“Thought I’d keep it a surprise.” Lorelai responded.

“Tell Bruno we’re leaving.” Mrs Yuson spoke after hugging her daughter goodbye, offering her friend a smile, which Lorelai returned brightly. “Will do.” She said. “See you later, dad.” He pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, shaking her playfully earning a fond laugh.

Lenore easily picked up her suitcases, lifting one over her broad shoulders, while Lorelai took her guitar case; she waved goodbye to her parents as they walked under grand entrance way, back into the school grounds.

“Oi, Bruno.” Lenore called out, approaching her brother and the pack—who stared at like a deer in headlights—she chose to ignore them. “Mum and Dad are leaving, go say goodbye.” She gestured over her shoulder. He jumped from the bench he was sat on, slapping his sister’s arm as he ran off to their parents.

—————

Hours later, Lenore and Lorelai were haunting the halls of Nevermore, darkened by night, moonlight shining in from the windows, casting shapes onto the rich, wooden floors. It set Lenore’s teeth on edge.

“When’s the next full moon?” Lorelai asked.

“A week away.” She responded. Her stomach growled, which she cursed silently.

“Waxing Gibbous, hm? No wonder you’re hungry.” The siren commented. Lenore’s ears twitched, straining past the rustling of the bag she was holding, eyes going wide upon hearing footsteps.

She shuffled backwards, grabbing Lorelai’s wrist, dragging her into the darkness. They pressed themselves against the window, behind the long, flowy curtains, moonlight at their backs. “I know you’re there.” An amused, unfamiliar voice said. Lenore’s shoulders slumped forward with a sigh.

The borderline ravenous werewolf stepped out into the empty, drafty hallway, caught in a stream of skin crawling moonlight—her companion stepped out after her, peaking over her shoulder, one cold hand wrapping around Lenore’s toned, feverishly hot forearm.

Their eyes fell on a curvy figure, who stood in the middle of hallway, one side of her shrouded by darkness, while moonlight shined against the opposite edge of her face. Copper ringlets, which hung like a halo around her face, then they cascaded down her shoulders. Her full, flushed lips were bent into something between curiosity and mischief.

“What are you doing out at this hour?” She asked, a hint of husk caught in her velveteen voice. “The moon makes me restless.” Lenore replied. Something shined in her hazel eyes, which moonlight pooled in, her features taking on a look of softness. “Werewolf?” She questioned.

Lenore nodded subtly.

“Hungry, too?” She asked, her voice taken by slight playfulness.

Lorelai spoke up instead of Lenore, “time passed us by. We missed dinner.” She responded softly—the werewolf squeezed her wrist, warning her against using her siren-song, “how did you get food delivered here?” She asked, seemingly more impressed than anything else.

A subtle smile grew on Lenore’s lips, “I’ve got a good thing going on with a kid that delivers, he—”

“—Thought you were lesbian.” Lorelai cut in.

“Not like that. I stopped his brother from getting beaten up the town pilgrims, he owes me, that’s all,”—she looked back at the woman—”he leaves it where the school meets the forest.” She explained.

“Go on,” the woman said, letting out an impressed breath—she spoke up again as they walked past her, “don’t get caught next time.” She offered Lenore a smile, which made her heart stutter. She nodded stiffly.

—————

Lorelai pushed their door shut, “that was close.” She sighed out as she flopped down on Lenore’s bed, curling up in her faux fur blankets. “We’re lucky she’s a wolf, otherwise she likely wouldn’t have been so understanding.” Lenore commented, ripping open the plastic bag with her claws.

She placed the hot, flimsy metal containers holding their food on her desk, “catch,”—she threw her a can, which Lorelai gracefully caught.

“Wait, how’d you know she’s a werewolf?” She asked.

“She wouldn’t have heard us otherwise, or smelt us, plus she stunk of wolf.” Lenore explained.

“And that smells like what?”

“Thick, almost choking, not unpleasant… sometimes intoxicating.” She stated. “The scent is very recognisable.” She added, walking over and sliding in beside Lorelai; she grabbed a pillow, placing it over Lorelai’s lap before giving her the food, ensuring she didn’t burn herself.

“Careful, it’s hot.” She told her, passing her a flimsy plastic fork. Lenore slung her arm over Lorelai’s shoulders, so they could both lie comfortably, while she settled her computer between them, turning on a show.

“Ew.” Lenore’s disgust was palpable as she glared at the prawns in her rice like they had personally offended her. Lorelai only laughed at her expression, stabbing the prawns and dumping them on her food, “how you eat those is beyond me.” She commented.

Lorelai leaned her head on Lenore’s shoulder, sighing contently as she looked up at the werewolf, “so, what’s our plans for tomorrow?” She asked after swallowing a mouthful. “Well, since Thorpe left, I’m the head of archery, so I’ll have to get on that. I’ll tour you around if you want, there’s also the Founders Pyre tomorrow, which is mandatory. I might check out the Nightshade’s library, too.”

“Wait, you know where the Nightshade’s library is?” Lorelai questioned.

“Mm-hm, they’ve got some interesting books. Wednesday and I found it last year.” Lenore answered.

“Wow, that’s impressive, you managed to make a secret spot lame.” Lorelai deadpanned, earning an eyeroll from the werewolf.

Silence hung in the air, sending a wave eerily quiet through their dark dorm, then Lorelai groaned into the werewolf’s shoulder, stretching her arms over her head like a cat; she shoved her container of food towards her roommate. “Finish this?” She asked.

Lenore didn’t hesitate for a moment, grabbing the half-eaten container and wolfing it down at an impressive food, “you’re like a fucking hoover.” Lorelai yawned out, pulling the covers up higher. Lenore laid her head back on the pillow.