Heir To The Iron Crown: Butterfly ✓

2 - Annað

As I walked into Werewolf History, I saw that everyone was pretty much seated, and I walked to my place at the last bench.

Nobody forced me to sit there, but I thought it was the best way to avoid the stares of my fellow classmates boring through the back of my neck.

I had just taken my seat when Mr.  Marjón walked in. He closed the door as a step of finality to show whoever was late, wasn't getting entry now.

He came and sat on the front desk facing us, and after taking a look across the classroom, his eyes landed on me, instantly turning to slits.

"Does anyone know what day it is today?" he asked the students.

"It's Wednesday," said a student in the front. I couldn't tell if he was trying to look smart or stupid.

"Anyone else?" he asked, almost completely ignoring the poor boy.

"It's the anniversary of Grimmileg Árás," said someone else in the front.

Grimmileg Áras was the night we were attacked fifteen years ago.

"That's right," he said.

I could feel the sudden tension in the room. I knew that almost everyone here lost someone they loved that night.

It was a grief that everyone felt together, losing so many people at once. The pack was almost completely ruined, had we not relocated here, to Hof.

"On this night, we were attacked by one of our neighboring packs in the North, Sgriosaire. We lost our Alpha, Beta, tens of warriors, and many children. It is important to remember that night, the massacre, and the loss we faced of life and property.

"It has been years and it is still not entirely clear why they attacked us. We weren't able to get our revenge, and we weren't capable either. But when our Delta arranged a meeting with their heads, we were given an unbelievable response," he said.

I noticed some people were taking notes, and I'd completely forgotten we were still in class.

"What was their reason?" asked Eidis, sitting in the front.

"They said they mistook us for a band of Liet," he said, scoffing.

"We had been an established pack in that region for decades. I highly doubt what they said was true," he continued. His eyes finding me again.

"What do you believe sir?" asked Jón.

"I heard they were looking for somebody. A child," Mr. Marjón replied.

"What would their purpose be, with a child, you may wonder. This is something that baffles me still. But I'm sure they'd have wanted nothing to do with our children, but took ours anyway so as to not return empty handed" he said. His emphasis on 'our' once again insinuated that I didn't belong here, and they were probably looking for me.

I've heard this so many times, and although Gramma tried to push away the negativity from the pack towards me, I had to face it eventually.

So many people here blame me as they can't blame anyone else. Nobody is direct about it, but I can see it in their eyes. Life outside my home isn't easy, but it is something I have gotten used to.

Maybe this is why nobody likes me. Is this why Valente doesn't like me?

...

A heavy weight had placed itself on my heart since History class. I knew it wasn't my fault, how could it be? Gramma said I couldn't have been even a few months old.