Chapter 2
Chapter two
Dinner with Rae always felt like coming up for air.
I pushed through the door of their cabin still smiling from something Ash had said, the cold hitting my face after two hours in that warm, chaotic kitchen.
Behind me, I could hear Kane and Kade arguing about whose turn it was to do dishes while Vince tried to restore order with his professor voice. It wasn't working. It never worked.
I loved them for it.
The walk back to the dorms was short — Rae and her mates had a place on the edge of campus, close enough that I could visit but far enough that students didn't constantly interrupt them.
She'd insisted on that when they started a family.
"I need somewhere that's just ours," she'd told me.
"Somewhere Alexandra can be loud without scandalizing anyone. "
Alexandra was absolutely scandalizing everyone regardless.
Two years old and already running the house.
She'd spent most of dinner trying to feed me mashed potatoes with her hands while shouting "Lulu eat!
Lulu EAT!" at increasing volumes. When I'd finally opened my mouth to accept the offering, she'd cackled like a tiny supervillain and shoved the potatoes up my nose instead.
Ash had laughed so hard he'd fallen off his chair.
"She gets that from you," Rae had said, pointing at him.
"The strategic thinking or the evil laugh?"
"Yes."
I'd cleaned potato out of my nostrils while Silas quietly handed me another napkin, his pale eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn't say much, Silas. Never had. But he noticed everything, and his silences were comfortable instead of awkward.
"You're good with her," he'd said.
"She's easy to be good with."
"She asks about you. When you're not here." He'd paused. "She calls you her wolf."
That had cracked something in my chest I hadn't known was tight.
Her wolf.
I'd spent eighteen years being the kid Gregor took in. The orphan with the visions. The girl who was always preparing for something no one else could see. But to Alexandra, I was just Lulu. Her wolf. Someone who belonged.
Rae had caught my expression from across the kitchen. She always did.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I'd cleared my throat. "Just... yeah."
She hadn't pushed. That was the thing about Rae — she knew when to let things sit. Seven years of chosen sisterhood had taught us both when words helped and when they just got in the way.
Gregor had raised me at the orphanage. He was the only father I'd ever known.
Then seven years ago, we'd come to Frosthaven and there was Rae — a girl from the lower forty-eight who'd stumbled into our world not knowing shifters existed.
She'd taken one look at Gregor and just known.
He'd looked back at her and seen her mother's face staring out of a stranger's eyes.
Father and daughter, meeting for the first time. Both of them certain before anyone said a word.
I'd watched it happen. Watched Gregor's face crack open with something I'd never seen before — recognition, grief, joy, all tangled together. Watched Rae's confusion turn to understanding turn to tears.
And somehow, in the middle of all that, I'd gained a sister.
Not by blood. Rae was Gregor's daughter that way, not me. But she'd pulled me in anyway — looked at the orphan kid her father had raised and decided I was hers too. The kind of family you build instead of the kind you're born into.
The better kind, maybe.
Now I was crunching through snow toward the dorms, mentally running through my pack list for tomorrow's overnight hike. First aid kit. Extra socks. The good thermal layer, not the one with the hole in the armpit.
I was so focused on the list that I almost missed him.
James.
He was leaning against the dormitory entrance, arms crossed, cowboy hat tipped low like he was trying to look casual. He wasn't pulling it off. The moment he saw me, his whole body went still in that way I was starting to recognize.
The way that meant he'd felt me coming before he saw me.
Mate bond. Right. That thing I was ignoring.
"Lumi." He said my name like he'd been practicing it. Like he wanted to get it exactly right.
"Cowboy." I kept walking, aiming for the door. "Little late for loitering."
"Wanted to talk to you."
"About what?"
"Tomorrow. The overnight." He fell into step beside me, which meant I had to either stop or have this conversation while walking. I chose walking. "We're in the same group."
I stopped walking.
"What?"
"Mr. Boone's group. You, me, four others." He was watching my face carefully. "I saw the list."
Of course we were. Of course the universe had decided that twenty-four hours in the wilderness with the one person I was trying to avoid was exactly what I needed.
"Great," I said flatly. "That's great."
"You don't sound like you think it's great."
"I'm overwhelmed with joy. Can't you tell?"
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "You're kind of mean, you know that?"
"I've been told."
"I like it."
I didn't have a response for that. Or rather, I had several responses, and none of them were appropriate for a conversation I was trying to end as quickly as possible.
"Goodnight, James."
"Goodnight, Lumi."
He didn't move from the entrance. Just watched me push through the door and disappear into the stairwell, his eyes on my back the whole way.
I could still feel them when I reached the third floor.
Ivy was awake when I got back, surrounded by a nest of snacks and textbooks.
"How was family dinner?"
"Good. Alexandra shoved potatoes up my nose."
"As one does." She didn't look up from her book. "Also, I saw James waiting outside. Anything you want to share with the class?"
"No."
"Compelling. Riveting. I'm on the edge of my seat."
I threw a sock at her and started packing.
The overnight hike started at dawn, which meant I'd been awake since four.
Not because I was nervous. Because I couldn't stop thinking about the dream I'd had — white snow, pale wolf, the feeling of being watched by something that was waiting for me to be ready.
I was never ready in the dreams. That was the worst part.
Mr. Boone gathered our group outside the main hall while the sky was still pink.
He was new this year — First Aid Instructor, maybe forty, with the kind of weathered face that said he'd spent more time outside than in.
His handshake was firm when he introduced himself, and he looked at each of us like he was already assessing what we could handle.
"Six of you," he said. "Two days, one night. Thirty miles round trip. Anyone want to back out now, this is your chance."
Nobody moved.
"Good." He smiled, and it made his face less severe. "Let's see what you're made of."
Our group was me, James, two girls named Sandy and Leigh, and two guys named Len and Charlie.
Sandy was tall and blonde and looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Leigh was short, dark-haired, and practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
Len and Charlie were clearly friends — they kept shoving each other and making jokes I didn't understand.
James fell into step beside me as we started up the trail.
I pretended not to notice.
"Nice morning," he said.
"Yep."
"Good weather for hiking."
"Yep."
"You're really committed to this one-word-answer thing, huh?"
"Yep."
He laughed. It was a good laugh — low and warm, surprised out of him. I hated that I noticed.
I picked up the pace.
Two hours in, Mr. Boone called a water break and pulled me aside.
"Orlav. You're setting a brutal pace."
"I can handle it."
"I'm sure you can. But this isn't a solo expedition. You've got five other people back there who are struggling to keep up."
I looked back at the group. Sandy was bent over with her hands on her knees. Len and Charlie were red-faced and breathing hard. Even Leigh's enthusiasm had dimmed to something more like grim determination.
James, I noticed, looked fine. Tired, but fine. He'd been matching my pace the whole time without complaining.
"Sorry," I said. "I'll slow down."
"I appreciate the drive. Save it for when you need it." Mr. Boone handed me a water bottle. "You've done altitude training."
It wasn't a question.
"Some."
"More than some, I'd guess." He studied me for a moment. "You're Rae’s sister, right? From the orphanage?"
"That’s me."
"She mentioned you. Said you'd be one to watch." He smiled slightly. "Didn't mention you'd try to kill your classmates on day one."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Take it however you want. Just keep it under control."
He walked back to the group, leaving me with a water bottle and the uncomfortable realization that I'd been showing off without meaning to.
Or maybe I had meant to. Maybe I'd wanted James to see that I could handle this — that I didn't need anyone keeping up with me, matching my pace, looking at me like I was something worth chasing.
Stop it, I told myself. Focus.
I focused. It didn't help.
James stepped in beside me and before I could stop him, reaching for my pack like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I’ve got it,” he said, already lifting.
The pack barely cleared the ground before it yanked his shoulder down. He staggered, boots scraping, and I caught the strap out of reflex before it could tip him backward.
He stared at it. Then at me.
“What do you have in here,” he asked, breathless, “boulders?”
I shrugged, slipping the pack back onto my shoulders like it hadn’t just tried to kill him. “Probably too much water.”
His mouth opened. Closed.
“You pack like you’re planning to get stranded.”
I’d been adding weight to my packs for years, training my body to expect thin air and long days.
I tightened the straps. “I pack like I don’t plan on needing help.”
We made camp as the sun started dropping, finding a sheltered spot in a grove of spruce where the wind couldn't reach us. Mr. Boone supervised while we set up tents.