POV: Miranda Prospero

The injured boy stumbled into our hidden grove like something out of a fairy tale, all golden hair and torn formal wear against the backdrop of ancient pines.

I pressed myself deeper behind the massive oak tree that had been my hiding spot for the past hour, watching the chaos at the main academy building through my father's old binoculars. The Autumn Equinox Ball had erupted into something that looked more like a political summit gone wrong, with pack Alphas ...