"I will accept no wolfless girl as my leader."
The sentence didn't simply arrive, it struck.
Clean.
Cold.
Precise as any thrown blade, and twice as vicious because it drew no visible blood.
It came from the bunk immediately to our right.
The speaker made no effort to lower his voice.
He didn't whisper. He simply spoke, and the words carried, flat, unhurried, deliberately audible to every corner of the room.
The space collapsed into sudden, suffocating silence.
A boy I had barely registered until this moment eased himself upright on the lower bunk. Lean to the point of wiry, skin so pale it almost gleamed under the overhead lights. Silver-blond hair scraped back into a loose, careless knot; a few rebellious strands framed features that looked honed rather than grown, cheekbones like knife edges, a jaw that could have been planed from marble. Nothing about him was soft. Nothing invited mercy.
His eyes were the worst part.
