Expelled from her old school for a crime she didn't commit, Ivy must gain the trust of the High Pack at Ridgeview Academy to stop her new home from going up in flames.
Season 2 of Witchfire
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───── Ivy ─────
There was a ripple in the stands as heads turned to follow the progress of our group. Walking suddenly became an effort, as if their scrutiny had somehow intensified gravity. I wrestled with a surge of panic, trying to tell myself that I was used to this kind of exposure, but the reassurance fell laughably short. Yes, I'd been stared at all my life — initially for my uncanny resemblance to a lab rat, and eventually for the prestige of my position at Swan Hill Academy — but this wasn't the attention I'd grown up with. To these people, I had something to prove.
The rest of the High Pack awaited us in the middle of the field. Lawrence and Louise were quick to join them, shedding their friendly personas like work uniforms after a long day, slipping into the enviable comfort of authoritarian composure.
I searched their ranks for potential weaknesses, starting with the boy at the end of the line. Dean Hawkins had introduced himself at the assembly as the Omega of the High Pack, the lowest ranking member, but I wasn't stupid enough to dismiss him as a threat. Ambition glinted in his grey eyes like sunlight off a steel blade. His mousy hair was unkempt, and he slouched with the indifference of a big cat at the zoo, but I knew he'd turn lethal in an instant if provoked. The arms poking through his ragged leather vest were slight at first glance, but upon closer inspection I realised that their muscle was simply compact. Dean would certainly pack a punch.
Next in line were Lawrence and Louise, in the order of their rankings. I skipped them, having seen enough throughout the day to understand that they were both cunning and dangerous, despite Lawrence's jovial temperament and Louise's angelic beauty, both of which inspired a disarming trust in their own right. And so it was the Delta, ranked fourth highest within the school, that truly seized my attention.
I couldn't help but compare myself to the girl, knowing that she held the title of Head She-Wolf. In the absence of a High Luna, a rank that was synonymous with marrying into power, the Head She-Wolf was theoretically the most powerful and successful woman in any school. I was looking at the ultimate symbol of female empowerment in an otherwise male-dominated shadow-society. The stick against which we all measured our own worth.
Piper Cross was as short as I was tall, sporting the hourglass curves I'd longed for all of my adolescent life. I felt envy corkscrew into my chest as I took in her burnished, caramel skin and the sleek curtain of hair that fell to the middle of her back, the rich, dark brown of cocoa powder. She waited in that line with the patience of an experienced predator, quiet and watchful, anticipating movement — anticipating prey.
Her emerald, almond-shaped eyes locked onto mine.
The whole school might have been looking at me, but she saw me. Saw the threat that I posed to their hierarchy, saw my selfish ambition and determination. I'd never felt so unbearably transparent in my life. I almost felt ashamed of what I was going to do next.
