Werewolf Acadamy

Werewolf Academy. Where only the top 25 packs in the world send their youth. A wonderful place only accessible if you know where to go. You travel to Niagara Falls, walk into the tiny casino called Black Blood, ask for a guy named Teddy and say you need shot of moonjuice. From there he leads you to the back and sends you into the cellar, which is also a secret passage behind the falls. You pass several doors on the way but you need only step through the 8th door on the right. It leads to a train platform with a sleek and shiny bright white monorail. Your luggage is usually brought down for you by your pack's lower ranking wolves. You then board the train, which is bigger inside than it is out, and choose a plush compartment. Afterwards, you make the day long journey at high speed under the ocean towards a beautiful castle nestled in the grassy hills of Ireland. You have arrived at Werewolf Academy.

Except, YOU don't actually attend the school. I do. This is the story of me, Aria Johnson, daughter of the Beta of the Autumn Leaf Pack. I have several friends, but only one isn't a complete and total bitch to me. Austin O'Brien. He's my one true friend. He protects me from my bitchy friends. He hasn't gotten off of his bed in three weeks.

Austin is in a deep depression. I am too, but I need to be strong for him. He's always been strong for me, it's the least I can do. You see, three weeks ago, every sixteen-year-old in my pack turned for the first time. Austin and I found our mates instantly. It was easy since they were in the same pack as us. My mate's name was Patrick. We didn't get to know each other much. We were both shy. Austin's mate was Violet. She was beautiful. They were really attached to each other. Then, hunters attacked. There was mayhem. The hunters must have known that this time was when our pack was the most vulnerable. Everyone started running. Austin and I made it to the safety of the pack house. As soon as we set foot inside we both fell to our knees, screaming in pain. We were feeling our mates being killed. Several of the newly turned didn't make it, but most survived.

As I sat in my lonely compartment with Austin, I watched his vibrant blue eyes, now dull with depression, stare unseeingly into the deep blue abyss of the ocean and I wondered if he would ever be okay again. Then I wondered if I'd ever be okay. I answered my own question. No. I'd never be okay. I never have been okay, so it stands to reason that, after my mate died, there was absolutely no chance that I'd ever be alright. I stared out the window and tried to see the bottom of the ocean. All I saw was black nothingness. And then I realized I was just like that ocean. I went on into nothing.