Page 30 of Pack Kasen: Part 2

Giving him my trust.

With no idea where I’m going, I keep walking, seeing where my feet take me.

I keep expecting Aren to follow me into the forest, but to my surprise, when I peek over my shoulder, he’s still sitting beside the creek.

He’s not looking at the water. He’s looking at me, and he seems troubled.

I wander into the forest, breathing in the scent of the grass, pine trees, and wildflowers, appreciating the quiet. I love it here and I don’t want to.

Hungry, I don’t go far, just ten minutes before I turn back.

Aren is no longer sitting beside the creek. He must have gone inside to eat breakfast.

As I head toward the log house, another cabin captures my attention.

It sits nestled between the big, two-story log house and the long, single-story bunkhouse where most of the pack sleep.

The schoolroom.

The faint sound of conversation drifts from behind the white lace curtains, and I wander toward it, drawn by my curiosity.

Other than Leo, I haven’t seen any of the other pups, but it sounds like they might be having a class.

I’ll stick my head in and then eat something.

But the moment I do that, Gregor, sitting on top of a desk in what looks to be an old-style school room, stops talking.

“You’re a little too young for this class,” he tells me when the handful of kids twist to face me.

“Sorry for interrupting.” I apologize, turning to leave.

“You can stay if you’d like,” he says. “We always have room for one more.”

“Yeah, stay,” Leo says with a grin.

He’s human for this class, so he can’t have been a wolf for long when I last saw him.

“Okay.”

The chairs are kid-size, but I manage to squeeze my booty into one.

Gregor picks up a white notebook from the desk beside him and crosses over to hand it—and a pen—to me. “In case you want to take notes.” His eyes sparkle. “I always encourage note-taking in my classes.”

“Thanks.”

There’s little else in the room. Just a large blackboard on the wall behind him, the tables and chairs for the kids, and a closed door on his left that might lead to a closet or bathroom.

“We were going over our forms. Third form is always a topic of excitement,” Gregor says, perching on the edge of his desk.

“Third form?” I frown.

Gregor blinks, and I mentally sigh. I guess that’s something else I should know.

The list is getting longer by the day.

“Who knows what the third form is?” he asks, sweeping his gaze around the room.

Six hands shoot up.

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