Third-person Limited - Kendra, then Dominic
By mid-January, the snow on the sidewalks had gone from "pretty" to "personal enemy."
Kendra stomped through it anyway, boots crunching, scarf Lila had gifted her wrapped tight around her neck, sapphire pendant tucked under her jacket.
School had fallen into something dangerously close to routine.
Dominic walked her to most of her classes. Not always. Just… often enough that it felt normal.
Karina nodded at her in the halls sometimes. No smiles. No glares. Just a brief acknowledgment, like: We're not doing that anymore. We survived it. Move on.
The pack kids still stared, but less like she was an intruder and more like she was a new species they were slowly getting used to.
Humans watched her too.
Some with envy.
Some with curiosity.
Some with that weird mix of fear and fascination reserved for people who dated dangerous things.
She tried to ignore it.
Sometimes she even succeeded.
By the time the last bell rang, her brain was full of math and literature and the fun discovery that her science project partner believed in conspiracy theories about wolf blood being "mind control juice."
At least her wrists didn't hurt anymore.
That was something.
She slammed her locker shut and nearly smacked into a chest.
"Whoa," Dominic said, catching the door before it rebounded into her. "You okay?"
"No," she said. "School is illegal now. I've decided."
He smirked. "I'll tell my dad to shut it down. I'm sure the state will understand."
"Good," she said. "Civilization was overrated anyway."
He chuckled, then sobered. "Hey," he said. "Dad wants to see us after school."
Her stomach dipped. "Us?" she repeated. "As in: me and you?"
"Yeah," he said. "He said 'both of you, my office, three o'clock. Don't be late.'"
"Did he sound like Principal Mode or Alpha Mode?" she asked.
"Bit of both," Dominic admitted.
"Great," she muttered. "I love that for us."
He hesitated. "I think…" He glanced around at the dispersing crowd, then lowered his voice. "I think this is council-adjacent."
"Council-adjacent?" she echoed. "That sounds like 'cancer-adjacent.'"
He winced. "Not that bad," he said. "I just mean—word's spread. About you. About Christmas. About Karina not actively trying to murder us. Elders talk. They're… curious."
"Curious like 'awww, cute, our boy has a partner,' or curious like 'what does the human want with our bloodline'?" she asked.
"A mix," he said. "But if Dad's calling us in, it means he wants to get ahead of whatever they're whispering."
She groaned. "Can't we just move to Alaska and become reclusive hermits?"
"My wolf hates the cold," he said.
"Mine too," she replied.
He gave her a look.
"Fine," she sighed. "Let's go get council-adjacent."
Principal's Office, Take Two
The office looked the same as always: big desk, books, framed degrees, faint scent of coffee and wolf.
This time, there were three chairs set up in front of the desk.
Principal Theatus Garrison—Alpha, father, multi-tasking nightmare—sat behind it, fingers steepled.
"Miss Atchinson. Dominic," he said as they entered. "Have a seat."
Kendra sat in the middle chair.
Dominic took the one beside her.
She wished she could blame the tight feeling in her chest entirely on the Alpha's presence.
But part of it was the knowledge that this conversation wasn't just about school rules anymore.
"Relax," Theatus said, and for a second he did sound more like "Dad" than "Alpha." "You're not in trouble."
"Yet," Kendra said under her breath.
His mouth twitched.
"You are, however," he continued, "at a… transition point."
"That sounds ominous," she muttered.
He folded his hands. "This semester ends in a few months," he said. "The exchange program completes at the end of the school year. The pack council, the school board, and the exchange supervisors have all been asking… questions."
"About me," Kendra said.
"About both of you," he corrected. "But yes, you in particular."
"Because I'm human," she said.
"Because you're human and my son's mate and an exchange student on a visa," he said calmly. "Each of those statuses comes with its own… complications. Combined, they get… interesting."
She hated that he wasn't wrong.
"What kind of questions?" Dominic asked, shoulders already tensing.
"Some are simple," Theatus said. "'Is she staying?' 'Is she going back to Jamaica when the program ends?' 'Is Dominic planning to follow her?' 'Does she intend to bind herself to the pack in any formal way?'"
Kendra's heart lurched.
Stay.
Go back.
Words she'd been carefully not thinking too hard about.
"Others," he added, "are less simple. 'What message does it send to have a human Luna?' 'Will rival packs see her as leverage?' 'Will humans accuse us of coercion if things go badly?'"
"Wow," Kendra said. "Love being everyone's hypothetical lawsuit."
The Alpha-principal's expression softened.
"I understand this is… a lot," he said. "Which is why I wanted to speak to you here, before any council member approaches you on their own."
"Approaches me for what?" she asked.
"For answers," he said. "That you are not yet required to give."
She blinked.
"Not yet required?" she repeated. "But I will be?"
"Eventually," he said. "If you stay in our orbit. If you choose to remain tied to my son and this pack beyond your exchange term."
The words if you choose didn't go unnoticed.
"So this is, what, a check-in?" she asked. "A 'what are your intentions with my pack, young lady' talk?"
"In part," he said, straight-faced.
Dominic made a strangled sound.
"Dad," he hissed.
Theatus ignored him.
"I'd like to know what you want, Kendra," he said. "Not just what my son wants. Not what the council wants. Not what the gossip accounts want. You."
She shifted uncomfortably.
"What if I don't know yet?" she asked. "Is that an acceptable answer?"
"It's an honest one," he replied. "Which is more important."
She exhaled slowly.
"I know I don't want to be shoved into a Luna crown I didn't ask for," she said. "I know I don't want to be a symbol people point at in arguments. I know I don't want to be used to make posters about wolf-human unity while some of your people still look at me like I'm a stain on your bloodline."
Dominic's jaw clenched at that.
"But," she went on, "I also know… I don't want to lose what I have here. My friends. This school. Your terrifying wife's cooking. Him." She jerked her head toward Dominic.
The Alpha's gaze softened at the mention of Lila.
"Good priorities," he said.
"I know I want… the choice," she said quietly. "To stay. To go. To define what 'mate' means for me and not just swallow whatever tradition throws at me."
"You will have that," he said. "I give you my word."
"Even if I decide to go back to Jamaica at the end of the program?" she asked bluntly.
Theatus paused.
Dominic's heart stuttered.
"If you decide that is what's best for you," the Alpha said at last, "no wolf under my authority will stop you. That is a promise."
"That doesn't mean I'll be happy about it," Dominic muttered.
She elbowed him lightly.
"But understand," Theatus continued, "leaving doesn't… unmake the bond. Distance strains it. Time tests it. But some ties do not cut cleanly."
"I know," she said, because she did. She'd read enough articles, seen enough interviews. Human-wolf couples trying to do long-distance across borders. Some made it. Some didn't.
"On the other hand," he added, "if you choose to stay… to extend your time here, to enroll in local colleges or continue in this town… there are logistics. Visas. Pack accords. Human law. All of which we can help with. But only if it's what you want."
"I appreciate that," she said, thrown by how gentle he was being about it.
"This isn't a decision you have to make today," he said. "Or this month. But the questions are coming, so I wanted you to hear them here first. From me."
Silence settled.
Kendra stared at her hands.
She had spent so much of her life feeling like things were happening to her.
Parents deciding.
Schools deciding.
Life throwing things—her weight, other people's cruelty, injuries—at her body without permission.
The idea that she might actually get to make this choice for herself felt… foreign.
Scary.
"Okay," she said finally. "Then for now, my answer is: I don't know where I'll be next year. But I know I'm here now. And I plan to survive this semester without punching any more students if I can help it."
"I'll mark that as 'tentative progress,'" Theatus said dryly.
Dominic huffed a laugh.
The Alpha's gaze shifted to his son.
"And you?" he asked. "What do you want?"
Dominic didn't hesitate.
"I want her safe," he said. "I want her free. I want her happy. If that means she stays here and the pack learns to deal with a human Luna, I'll fight them until they do. If that means she goes back to Jamaica and I follow, I'll bring as many textbooks and guilt trips as it takes to convince you to help with the paperwork."
Kendra's heart did that annoying lurch.
"Wolf boy," she muttered. "You can't just say things like that."
"What, the guilt trip part?" he asked.
"All of it," she said.
Theatus watched them with an unreadable expression for a moment.
Then he nodded once, as if confirming something to himself.
"The council will request to meet you soon, Kendra," he said. "In a formal setting. They will ask some of these same questions, with more pomp and less tact. You do not owe them more honesty than you're comfortable with. But I thought you should know what's coming."
"Thanks," she said. "I'd rather not be ambushed by old wolves with questions about my future womb plans."
Dominic choked.
Theatus coughed, almost lost his serious face, then recovered. "Some of them will indeed be that direct," he admitted. "Feel free to look appalled. Lila does."
"Your wife is a good woman," Kendra said solemnly.
"The best," he agreed.
He glanced at the clock.
"That's enough heavy conversation for one afternoon," he said. "Go home. Do your homework. Try to act like normal teenagers for at least a few hours."
"Impossible," Dominic said.
"For you," his father replied.
Kendra stood. "Thanks," she said again, more sincerely this time.
"You're welcome, Miss Atchinson," Theatus said. "And for what it's worth… I'm glad my son has you, in whatever form this takes."
She didn't know what to do with that.
So she nodded, turned, and walked out with Dominic at her side.
Parking Lot, Edges of the Future
The air outside was sharp-cold.
Their breath puffed in little clouds as they headed toward the front steps.
"So," Dominic said. "That was fun."
"Yeah," Kendra said. "Love being lightly interrogated about my entire future and reproductive potential. Definitely in my top ten hobbies."
He winced. "Sorry," he said. "About the… future pressure."
"It's not your fault," she said. "You didn't invent wolf politics. Or visas. Or my dumb heart."
He glanced at her. "Your heart's not dumb," he said quietly.
She shrugged, uncomfortable.
"What do you want?" he asked suddenly. "If none of this existed. If I was just some human idiot in your class, no pack, no bond. What would you want next year to look like?"
Her mind flashed:
Her mom's kitchen. Sun on concrete in Kingston. Cheap buses. Noise.
Then:
Snow. Garrison house. Lila's food. Ava's bracelet. The porch swing. His wolf-shadow in the yard.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "Part of me misses home so much it hurts. Part of me… likes it here more than I thought I would. Likes you more than I ever planned to."
He smiled a little at that, edges soft.
"I know whatever I decide," she added, "someone's going to be mad. My mom. Your pack. Maybe my friends. Maybe… you."
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
"Don't say you'll be fine if I leave," she warned. "You're a bad liar."
"I wasn't going to say that," he said. "I was going to say… I'll be proud of you either way. For choosing instead of just letting things happen to you."
She hated how much that meant.
"Stop being sweet," she grumbled. "You're ruining your reputation as the school menace."
"Karina already told everyone I'm soft now," he said. "Reputation's dead."
She snorted.
They reached the bottom of the steps and paused.
Students were still spilling out, some heading for buses, some for cars, some for the nearby shops.
Life, annoyingly, kept moving.
"I'll walk you home," he said.
"Good," she replied. "You can carry my bag. Future Alpha pack mule."
"Yes, Luna," he said lightly.
She shot him a look.
"Don't," she said.
"Too soon?" he asked.
"Way too soon," she said.
He shifted the strap of her bag onto his shoulder anyway, like he'd been born to carry things for her.
As they walked, she slid her hand into her coat pocket and curled her fingers around the cool curve of the sapphire pendant under her scarf.
You don't have to decide yet, she told herself.
You just have to keep walking.
One day at a time.
One semester at a time.
One boy, one bond, one choice at a time.
The end of the story was coming.
She could feel it.
But for the first time, she had a say about how it would land.