Chapter 17

EVANGELINE POINT OF VIEW

Wednesday morning feels different.

I walk through the school doors with my head held higher than usual. The crescent mark on my wrist tingles under my long sleeves. My wolf stirs restlessly in my mind, no longer the quiet whisper she used to be.

Students still stare as I pass. Still whisper behind their hands. But something has shifted. Maybe it's the way I carry myself. Maybe it's the new awareness humming under my ...