Windermere Form Room is small, smells of mould and teenage sweat, and has seventeen kids who have all known each other since nursery with the exception of Simone. Everyone still considered Simone the new girl even though she'd been at the school for over two years. 

The room has a dark yellow tinge from the arched Victorian windows not letting enough light in and a pipe drips into a bucket behind Tessa. She drums her fingers in time with the drips.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

In the rear corner she sits staring out the window. She studies three men in suits and ties crossing the schoolyard and into the new block (actually built in the early 70s) where Walter will be in Form. 

What if one of them is the new wolf? Was it the man with the mauve tie and matching socks? Or the one with toupee clinging for dear life against wind? Or the one drinking a Starbucks looking like he wanted the world to swallow him whole? He's definitely not from around here, the nearest Starbucks is fifteen miles away in the town.

What if they smell Walter in there and decide to fight for the territory. Her knee started to bounce. What if there was more than one, but they didn't notice? An entire pack could be looming in the woods somewhere waiting for the full moon to rise to take their territory. They shouldn't have been so stupid to assume there was only one wolf.

"What is wrong with you?" Snapped Simone turning in her seat, her glare more heated than an alpha wolf's could ever be. Her topaz eyes flashed over like she was trying to find a fault in Tessa's code. She jerked a finger at Keri who was pouring herself over a map spread across their table, chewing on a piece of her hair. It made Tessa's toes curl. She'd forgotten about her other problem. "I've been up all night dealing with this sone ranting and raving about finding the monster of Layman's Way Hills. If I have to deal with you turning crazy I am packing it in and going back to London."

"Sorry," Mumbled Tessa ducking her head. "Just nervous you know what Mrs Monroe is like, she is bound to give us a test first thing on a Monday."

"You know Simone," A cocky voice accompanied an eclipsing shadow over them. Jerome stood over them, smelling of too much Lynx Aftershave. "You can always come hang out with me if you are finished being with these losers. It's admirable you stayed this long."

"Jerome," Simone's voice was sickly sweet, with enough sugar to make a child sick. Then her voice darkened to the pits of hell. "No one gets to call them losers, but me. If I hear you call them losers again I'll never go behind the bike sheds with you again."

"Whatever," He jutted his chin in the air, his features remarkably pug-like. "Tell your brother to watch his back Tessa, I'm coming for his place on the first rugby team."

"Your delusional." Tessa rolled her eyes watching Jerome as he slid into the table adjacent to her. "I can't believe you date that guy."

"I don't date him, I occasionally make out with him when I'm lonely. Dating would imply civility between the two of us."

"If you're that lonely you should convince your dad to buy you a dog or something."

She hears Mr Ratliffe prowling down the corridor, his footsteps echo and she picks up a second much quieter set with him. So quite in fact she can barely detect them, as if the person has trained themselves to walk like a ghost.

 However, she does not pay it much mind, instead she returns her gaze to the courtyard where three strangers are waving their arms in a debate. The one with the ghastly tie is jabbing his finger in toupees face while Starbucks scowls at them both. Around her the class have spied Mr Ratliffe through the window and are diving for their seats. Everyone knew Mr Ratliffe enjoyed giving detentions first thing on a Monday as if it could make up for these kids stealing his youth. And his hair.

He strode into the room, a short man with sandy skin, thin lips and the most hideously matched baby sick yellow tie and putrid purple shirt. Dumping his briefcase on the desk so overstuffed with homework the stitching barely clung on. Hands on hips he stood before them like he'd performed an Olympic level gymnastics routine and now expected their applause. 

"Morning class."

"Good morning, sir." They echoed. A flicker of movement in the doorway caught Tessa's eye. In the shadows a figure lurked in the doorway. The hairs on Tessa's neck prickled. She wanted to look away, pretend they weren't there, but her wolf told her not to. Never take your eyes off an unknown threat.

"Sir!" Jerome, who never did have an inside voice, followed her gaze leaning over his desk to see into the shadows of the doorway. "Who's that?"

Mr Ratliffe's face was so passive and devoid of emotion it looked like a mask. "We have a new student starting today. Everybody this is Rye Frost, I expect you all to give him a warm Layman's Way welcome."

The figure, Rye, stepped into the light. A muddle of copper brown hair caught the light first and it hung over his eyes curling around his ears. His bottom lip twitched, a thin red scar in the last stages of the healing process being tugged along with it, then he raised his hand to swipe at his upper lip. The pale skin of his hand was littered with tiny scratches, the kind one gets from fighting with brambles.

His blazer is tight across his shoulders and only goes to his wrists like someone dipped their hand into the lost and found bin and pulled out the first one they found and his beaten rucksack is slung over one slumped shoulder.

She knows it before she even smells the air.

The same warming scent dribbled in golden flakes and sage ribbons washes over her, rippling her wolf and pulling its tail at the same time.

She watches his nostril flare. His features become pinched as his square jaw grinds his teeth together and his eyes flicker over the class until they land on her. He's smelt her too. They lock eyes.

His gaze makes her skin crackle. Tessa digs her nails into the table, irrationally scared his gaze would set her on fire at any moment. 

No. She has nothing to be scared about. This is her territory and he is the one trespassing, him and his entire pack are probably here to take their territory. Walter's theory of the wolf passing through can kiss her tail. A wolf passing through doesn't register for school.

Mr Ratliffe's voice is a jackhammer in her ears and snaps them both from their trance.

"Alright, Rye, why don't you take the free seat next to Tessa at the back. Tessa please raise your hand." Mr Ratliffe swings his arms about and Tessa envies him, because hers feel like someone has attached weights to them when she raises her hand. "Excellent. Now onto the business of the student council."

Tessa drones him out, again her eyes lock with Rye's as he stalks between the desks. Hackles raised he stands over her desk waiting for her to move her satchel from the spare chair, well it's his chair now. That's where it ends, she decides. Nothing else on their territory will ever be his.

Snatching her bag away she scowls at him. She plasters herself to the window, if it would open she would be halfway out of it, hating how his scent filled her nose. Dragging the chair out making it screech, he lowers himself slowly as if preparing to bolt.

His scent is clearer now. Pine needles, hot chocolate, morning dew. It makes her fingers tingle, the wolf must be furious, she thinks. Still looking at her he clenches his hands on the desk, the tiny scratches across them like snakes and ladders dancing up his arms.

Tessa doesn't trust herself to speak without growling.

"Oi, new boy." Jerome hangs over his desk, his nose centimeters from Rye's. Hands clenching, Rye's upper lip twitches and his scar jerks again as he makes eye contact. "Where'd you get your blazer, toy 'r' us?"

There's a ripple of laughter over the back of the classroom. Keri and Simone have turned in their seats to stare, and Tessa can see the cogs working behind Simone's wide doe eyes.

"Don't be jealous Jerome," There's a twinkle in the corner of her eye, which has Rye snapping his hands away from her and leaning back in his chair. Strange. Very few people reacted to Simone in such a way. She doesn't let it deter her though. "Just because he's got more muscles than you. I bet you could be on the Firsts rugby team, Rye. You should try out, the team is hosting tryouts on Friday."

Rye looks between the two of them. He glances at Tessa, he must hear her nails carving into the underside of the desk at the mention of him being here that long. He stares at the desk.

"What's the matter with you? Don't you talk?"

"Jerome, Simone, that is quite enough interruption for one form time."

"But sir," Simone tilts her head to the side and although her back is turned Tessa knows Simone will be flashing her perfectly white teeth. "As the class' student council representative I think I should give Rye a tour of the school. Make him feel more at home."

"What an excellent idea Simone?" Grinning Mr Ratliffe wanders to the front of the classroom. Tessa hates the idea - letting Rye out of her sight for a second would be a lethal mistake. "However, since you were talking you did not hear me say all student council representatives need to report to the head immediately, so you and Keri best be off."

A laugh washes through the class and Simone's bronze cheeks flush.

"However, I'm sure Tessa would be willing to give Rye a tour of our lovely school. Wouldn't you, Tessa?"

She glances at Rye from the corner of her eye. An idea pops into her head. She cannot help the sly grin which overtakes her face as she nods.

Her pack necklace is heavy on her chest. The golden chain pressing into her skin, she lifts her hand to fiddle with the locket. An engraving of a wolf's head tipped upwards in a howl sits heavy between her collarbones, inside at the words of the pack's promise. To Protect All of Our Own. This is her duty, her duty to her pack to banish this wolf before he is a threat to her pack. As the next alpha it is her duty to get rid of the wolf anyway possible.

Her wolf is pushing her heart into her ribs when she says;

"Of course sir, I'd be happy to show him where everything is."

Next to her Rye shifts in his seat, his heartbeat accelerating and she can smell the sweat forming on his palms.

Excellent.