Page 56 of The Wolf Prince

His enormous head settles against my thigh. That warm hum of magic spreads beneath my skin.

Comforting.

Familiar.

And for the first time since Coach Williams followed me out of the Academy, the knot in my stomach disappears.

I bury my fingers in soft black fur.

“You're a good boy.”

The Wolf's head snaps up. His stare is deeply offended.

I laugh.

“Oh, come on. You walked right into that one.”

Chapter Six

The next day classes begin with only two minor explosions.

No big deal.

But instead of going to the faculty lounge and drowning my woes in coffee like a normal person, I go to the library.

The Royal Academy library is enormous. Four hundred years of magical education means four hundred years of books, scrolls, journals, grimoires, and assorted documents written by Witches who apparently believed legible handwriting was beneath them.

I have claimed an entire table. Books are stacked around me. Three are open. Two more are floating at eye level while I flip through them magically. One very dusty volume is sitting on my lap.

I'm researching familiars. Because I'm a Witch.

And sometimes Witches have familiars.

I never have. I mean, not every Witch does.

A familiar isn’t a requirement. They’re magical companions, and the bond can manifest differently depending on the Witch and the creature.

Which has me wondering...

Maybe that’s what this is. Maybe the Wolf is mine. The thought makes something warm unfurl inside me.

Mine.

I like that more than I should.

“Stop it.”

I turn another page. So far, I’m not finding much to support my theory.

Rats.

Lots of rats.

Birds.

Cats.

So many cats.