Connor and the Wolves - 6. The WolfRoom

Truly the gods were pranksters. Not only was her music teacher her mate, but he was also an elf. An old elf.
“I am happy to see new faces among us this year.”
The stench of lemons under Khurtschono’s nose was almost enough to drown out the elf’s scent, and she focused on maintaining control. Every werewolf in the room would smell her urges if she didn’t fight them. Part of her wanted that to happen — to get it all out in the open. She was araefael, born in wolf form. She was a wolf, not a neko. And she had just met her mate.
But if she did that, if she acted untamed, she would lose all the benefits of being a neko. No more music, no more bane, no warm bed at night. She’d be lucky to have a den with the horses. Khurtschono had to remain neko.
“I am Mr. Kalievoen, or Samuel, or Sam, if you prefer. I want this to be a safe place for everyone, a place where you can come to find relief from the day if needed.”
Deep breaths through her mouth. Her fingers curled in the air, running over the string of a morin khuur. The soothing hum of the instrument in her ear pulled her away to a wide-open pasture.
She was calm. Miles was a teacher. There was no way he could be her mate. She must have been confused from the stress of the audition.
“There is a closet where you can find fresh clothes in case of an accident. If anyone feels the need to wolf out for a bit, please find your way here.”
Khurtschono focused her attention on the human talking, letting the music playing in her right ear fade to the back of her mind. Tall, dark, handsome — no, she shouldn’t think like that. A variety of nekos and humans lay around the room, some in chairs, some in wolf beds. Khurtschono was curled up in her own bed, the warm fleece offering a soothing touch.
The wolf she’d picked up off the side of the road sat beside her, nursing a steaming cup of tea. She was almost certain she’d asked his name, but it was gone in a flash, stolen by the distraction of the road. Across the room, John was holed up in a corner, nose-deep in yet another book. Khurtschono counted five — no, six — nekos in the room, and a single elf sitting next to a pair of humans. One of the nekos tossed a small ball from hand to hand, and Khurtschono looked away quickly before the urge to bite the ball hit her.
Her eyes stopped on a short table, where an electric kettle waited beside several plastic cups. A heavy bowl sat on the floor beside the table, filled with fresh water.
She stared at that bowl. So simple… so extravagant. The WolfRoom at her old school in the Ythin Desert would never leave a bowl of water just lying around. They’d never welcome werewolves into the room, either. Khaany Khaalga’s WolfRoom was a punishment for wolves who were out of control.
Khurtschono knew the place better than she’d care to admit.
“Everyone is welcome to introduce themselves if you’d like.” The teacher continued on, and a brief panic washed over Khurtschono. There was no way she could remember everyone’s name — the teacher’s name was already gone from her mind. Something with a C? “Remember, we’re all going to be meeting together until the end of the year, so it’s in everyone’s best interests to be friendly, or at the very least amicable.”
No, S. Sam? She remembered something about Sam. Relief flooded her. Now if she could just get the wolf runner to repeat his name. And the music teacher….
“Feel free to have a cup of tea, if you’d like. I see Soren’s already enjoying some of the matcha.”
Soren! That was it!
“Soren… Soren…” Muttering it under her breath helped. The faelaera who lived as an aerafael. “Soren.”
The room fell silent, as the werewolves all stared at each other.
“Fine, I’ll go first,” one of the humans said. “I’m Zach, and I’m the keeper on the football team.”
“Itumak,” an Askani neko said beside him. The ginger fur striping his face gave him the look of a tiger, clashing against his pale skin. “I’m new to being a werewolf.”
Khurtschono raised her hand after him.
“I’m Khurtschono. My brother, John, and I,” she pointed him out, “just moved here from Khaany Khaalga. That’s King’s Crossing in Astaran. I’m in the chamber orchestra as a violist. John is a bassoonist in the orchestra.”
John glanced up from his book at his name, frowning at Khurtschono.
“Perhaps John would like to introduce himself?” Sam suggested.
The calico shook his head. That was all it took for the introductions to die out.
Sam waited a few moments before clearing his throat.
“Okay, let’s go over a few rules for the new year. I am aware that a couple of you are araefael. There will be no discrimination in this room. That includes gender, race, sex, or breed.” He glanced around the room, and Khurtschono fought the urge to flinch when his eyes passed over her. “Next, the school is neutral ground. There is no marking permitted on the grounds. If anyone needs the bathroom, you will use the human restrooms. The school does not permit shifting outside of official school events. In the case of an accident, you will come straight to the WolfRoom. The door is open at all times. This is a judgement-free zone; all we want is to help you settle until you can change back.”
Khurtschono rolled her eyes behind closed eyelids. It sounded very similar to the lecture they got at the start of the year in her old school. One accidental shift and she’d see how Sam handled werewolves running around.
“This isn’t an official class. Some days, we might go over werewolf-specific topics, especially for some of the newer wolves in the group. If you have a question, always feel free to ask me anything. Other than that, treat this period as a free study period, to work on homework, or to take a break from a busy morning.”
Leaning back in her bed, Khurtschono dug through her pocket for her other earbud. Sam hadn’t complained about John reading through his lecture. Maybe this school was different.
She clipped the bud on her left ear, shivering with pleasure as Ythin caterwauling filled both ears. It was a challenge to keep the music low enough to hear any voices around her — it would be so easy to let the music sweep her away.
Soren was tapping away at a laptop beside her; something about government internet programs on the screen. Khurtschono looked away, giving the human his privacy. Across the room, the other humans were on their phones, and one of the nekos seemed to be sleeping.
It was only the first day of school. Maybe things would be stricter when they had the chance to get homework. Or maybe, just maybe, this was a place that didn’t treat werewolves like abominations.

The chime rang through both halves of the school. Near instantly, halls and courts flooded with students moving from class to class.
John vanished into the hall less than a second after the chime, leaving Khurtschono to navigate the unfamiliar campus on her own. She needed to find Altanchono, and get him back to the WolfRoom before heading to her next class, supposedly on the upper campus. The dull roar of hundreds of students all talking at once made things worse, and Khurtschono hesitated by the door as she fiddled with her music. The vibrato of a viola gave her a single noise to latch onto, and the crowd faded away.
“Where are you going?”
Soren’s baritone purr washed over her as the human held the classroom door open.
“Intro to Astaran History,” Khurtschono said, flattening against a wall as a horde of students pushed past her. “Room…” She pulled up a picture on her phone. “Room 404.”
Soren nodded, holding out a hand. Khurtschono stared for a second before grabbing the warm palm. It dwarfed her hand, but then many things made her seem small.
The human tugged her gently into the flow of students, many of them parting before Soren. Khurtschono couldn’t blame them. Gone was the almost nervous human who she’d given a ride that morning. A wolf, not a werewolf, stood in his place, his very presence shouting at any who dared block his path.
Khurtschono followed close behind him, up a flight of stairs and down the left hall. She spotted Altanchono easily enough in the crowd — the orange Ythin stood out in a sea of black, brown, and furless people, even if he was barely chest high to most of them.
“Altanaa!”
Altanchono glanced around before leaning against the wall. Khurtschono almost laughed as his arms crossed, a strange scowl crawling across his face.
She and Soren pushed through the other students, and Khurtschono grabbed her brother’s hand. He yanked free from her grip.
“I can walk by myself.”
“Fine. Why don’t you lead the way to the WolfRoom then?” Khurtschono challenged.
Altanchono dove into the crowd without saying a word. Soren and Khurtschono followed close behind him as his head swivelled from door to door. He aimed straight for the stairs, gripping the rails tightly as students pushed past. A left turn brought them into the proper hall, and Altanchono shot Khurtschono a smug grin as he stopped in front of the WolfRoom.
“I’m impressed,” Soren said beside her. “You figured that all out just from the doors upstairs?”
“Yep!” Altanchono chirped. “It was easy. Evens on the right, odds on the left. The 400s are upstairs, so the 300s have to be downstairs. Rooms 1 to 30 to the left of the stairs, 31 to 60 to the right.”
Khurtschono bit back a curse — how had she not noticed that?
“Go on.” She grumbled, pushing Altanchono toward the door. “Make sure you’re waiting when class gets out.”
Altanchono stuck his tongue out at her, before stepping into the WolfRoom. Even he didn’t dare disturb the strict confines of the room with playfulness.
“Okay, so Calculus is room… 216.”
“With Mr. Foley,” Soren said, leading her toward the exit. “You’ll like him. He’s not as uptight as most elves.”
“You’ve been in his class before?”
Soren moved out like he was on a mission. Khurtschono had to jog to keep up with him. Students parted around them like a snake cutting through the sand, and they were outside within a minute.
“This is my second time.” He admitted as they passed a Niwo statue in the middle of the courtyard. A plaque labelled the neko as the eponymous Elias, companion of the first werewolf. “It’s hard working with numbers.”
“I enjoy it.” Khurtchono shrugged, cutting across the intersection between the campuses.
The upper campus stood as a mirror to the lower. The only difference was the fountain in the courtyard, twinkling with the occasional copper coin in the water. Khurtschono stared at the waste as they passed.
“Students toss them in, hoping they will pass tests,” Soren explained. “Don’t try to take any though — the teachers don’t like that.”
“Why would y-?”
Khurtschono cut off her question. Maybe a student had been caught taking the coins. It wasn’t any of her business. She wouldn’t take any of the money, so Soren’s warning didn’t affect her.
The growing realisation that she would be seeing the music teacher again in four hours, with students all around, did affect her. Khurtschono took a deep breath, twisting her hands into a boat shape. As she exhaled, she pushed the boat down the stream, letting her fears and worries wash away down Tareth’s cleansing waters.
There was no fear left to claim her.