The next day,

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The academy corridors were busy between classes, students drifting in groups, laughing, arguing, comparing notes. Aria had stepped into the cloakroom to fetch her jacket, leaving the six children waiting just outside the door, when she heard the voices from around the corner.

Three senior students—all from the Silver Peaks pack, all older, all arrogant—leaned against the wall, talking loud enough for everyone to hear.

“…still can’t believe they let someone like her walk free here,” one of them said, a boy named Corin, his voice sharp with disdain. “Half-demon. No proper lineage. Who knows what kind of dark magic she’s got running through her veins?...