“Those aren’t wolves. They’re monsters,” Jocelyn stated.

Though Jocelyn had gotten used to the idea dying, there was a difference between death by poison and death from being mauled by teeth the size of broadswords.

Gerhmaine had called them ‘pets’ when, in actuality, these wolves were elephant-sized predators. Their yellow eyes were wild and unhinged. Saliva soaked the fur just underneath their chin. They bared their ivory teeth to Jocelyn and snarled loudly.

“I don’t think they like me,” Jocelyn said nervously.

“They don’t typically like strangers,” Gerhmaine said. “Stick your hand out to one of them.”

“Why? So they can have a snack?” Jocelyn asked.

“No,” Gerhmaine said dryly. “I want them to smell your hand. It’ll give them a sense of comfort.”

“No thanks. I’d like to keep everything below my elbow. Now, if you’d be so kind as to send them running along. The one on the left has been salivating since the moment it laid eyes on me.”

“Now, now, they’re just being protective of the Crooked House and the people inside.”

The house, situated in front of a brilliant, sparkling ocean, was actually crooked. Jocelyn speculated the original builder didn’t know what the shape of a square was and had angled the entire structure into a rhombus. Strangely, they also decided to use black wood the color of soot, giving the mansion a burnt look.

“Chubs and Chomps,” Gerhmaine said as he rubbed his wolves behind their ears, “You two are good girls, aren’t you?”

“Girls?”

“Why, they don’t look feminine to you?”

“No.”

Gerhmaine stroked the snout of one of the wolves and pressed his cheek up against its face. His head was dangerously close to the wolf’s mouth, Jocelyn noticed.

“I think they’re absolutely lovely.” Gerhmaine extended a hand out towards Jocelyn. “Seriously, pet one.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“They’re really friendly. You just need to scratch them in the right place.”

“What happens if you scratch them in the wrong place?”

Gerhmaine ran his fingers through the wolf’s long, unruly fur. “Probably the same reaction you’d have if I scratched you in the wrong place.”

He glanced over at the bonsai in Jocelyn’s hands and noticed she was holding it close to her chest.

“Do you want me to keep that safe for you?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather hold onto it. It is my life—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the bonsai disappeared from her hands.

“Too late,” Gerhmanine said.

“Hey!”

“It’s best I hold onto it, really it is. The students in the Crooked House are very curious about things. As they say back on your world, curiosity kills the cat. In this case, curiosity will kill your tree.”

Jocelyn didn’t feel comfortable with this arrangement. “Where is the tree now?”

“Hidden away where no one can get to it. I assure you, it’s one hundred percent safe.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“May I see it?”

“Whenever you wish.”

“Now?”

Before Gerhmaine could reply, they were interrupted by a fresh face.

“Well look at the new blood,” said a girl, standing at the Crooked House’s entrance, arms folded across her chest. She seemed unimpressed by the sight of them.

The girl had an interesting style to her; very punkish with her tuft of cotton candy colored hair on top of her shaven head.

She had a ring through the center of her lip and a dozen more piercings along the length of her ear. She wore a black tank top with sleeves that covered her arms from her wrists to her elbows.

From her milk-white skin, Jocelyn could tell she was an Asrai.

“I trust you’ll treat her right, Faria?” Gerhmaine said.

“Well, that all considers what you think ‘right’ is,” Faria said. “I mean if I call her a…” Faria studied Jocelyn for a moment, “human, is that right?”

Gerhmaine folded his arms across his chest. “Yes.”

“What if I call her a filthy, dirty human?”

“Then I’d say you’re belittling her.”

“She came from the belly of Ysomara. She’s filthy and dirty. That’s a fact that can’t be disputed.”

“I suppose.”

“Now what if I were to call her an unscrupulous wh—”

“Enough,” Gerhmaine interrupted her. “I’m convinced my wolves have the most manners out of the lot of you. Speaking of which, did one of you take Chubbs and Chomps out for their walk?”

“It was Wynter’s turn,” Faria said. “Which means ‘no.’ He’s probably off brooding in the shadows somewhere.”

“These kids,” Gerhmaine sighed.

“I’m not a damn kid,” Faria pointed out.

Jocelyn decided to chime in. “Neither am I.”

Faria glanced over at her. “You sure look like one to me.”

The nerve of this girl, they practically looked the same age.

“I’m going to take the wolves out for a walk then. Faria, do the introductions,” Gerhmaine said, before adding, “And try not to cut her like you did our last new recruit.”

Cut? As in make bleed?

“I thought you wanted me to practice my magic.”

Gerhmaine sighed. “You know very well your magic doesn’t require fresh blood. Old blood will do.”

“A waste of money paying all those blood harvesters, in my opinion,” Faria said as she came down the steps. Standing next to her, Faria poked at a black vein on Jocelyn’s bare arm with her index finger.

“I never played with black blood before.”

Jocelyn was feeling uneasy. Clearly this girl wasn’t playing with a full deck.

“Don’t touch her blood,” Gerhmaine warned. His voice was serious. “You’ll come to regret it later.”

Faria rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“You’ll do as I say,” Gerhmaine commanded. “Otherwise you’re going in the coffin.”

Coffin? Did he bury his students six feet under when they were insubordinate? Jocelyn regretted saying yes to Gerhmaine’s offer for him to be her teacher.

A braver version of Jocelyn would sprint back into the Ysomara, figure out how to pilot the damn creature, and then flee Yve.

However, that brave version of Jocelyn didn’t exist. It was why she served as a slave for the Xaksu for seven years.

“Get Kema to do the introductions,” Faria said. “She likes talking anyway. As far as I’m concerned, this human is just a waste of breathing space.”

“Go get her then,” Gerhmaine said, annoyed. Faria disappeared into the Crooked House.

“You know, there’s a human word I’d use to describe her, making reference to a female dog,” Jocelyn pointed out.

“I know of it.”

“She’s a b—”

Gerhmaine cut her off. “Language, my dear,” he said. “I’m a stickler for clean mouths, not to mention respect for all the other students.”

“I think Faria missed your lesson on respect.”

Gerhmaine shrugged. “I think all my students did.”

It wasn’t too long before another girl showed up at the entrance of the house.

She had a long, noble face that housed stunning almond shaped eyes resembling precious opals. Her long hair was the color of gooseberries and was braided all the way down to her waist. She was tall and sported Asrai features, though her skin wasn’t as white, hinting at a mixed heritage.

“Kema will look after you while I’m gone,” Gerhmaine said as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark robes and whistled. The wolves leapt happily to his side. “I shouldn’t be long.”

He hummed while he walked along the stone path towards the direction of the red mountains out in the distance. His wolves walked merrily by his side.

Jocelyn forced a smile on Kema.

Make at least one friend here, Jocelyn thought to herself. Friends in a strange land were a precious commodity.

“Hi,” Jocelyn said. “You’re Kema.”

The girl nodded. She was studying her. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“I’m Jocelyn.”

Kema nodded again, her eyes still fixated on her. This conversation was already off to an awkward start.

“So…” Jocelyn began.

“Hold my hand,” Kema said, offering her left hand, “And we shall go inside.”

Jocelyn wasn’t prepared for such a request.

“Please, take it,” Kema insisted. Perhaps she was in desperate need of a friend as well?

Sure, it seemed juvenile, but what harm was there in holding hands? “Okay,” Jocelyn agreed.

The second their fingers made contact, Jocelyn felt a flood of cold air seep through her skin and wrap itself around her bones.

She tried to pull her hand away immediately but Kema’s grip was unbreakable.

“Let go,” Jocelyn said.

“Why?”

“Because this is making me uncomfortable.”

Kema shook her head. “We’ll hold hands for a little while longer.”

Jocelyn tried to break free again, but it was as if their skin had bonded together.

“Let’s go inside,” Kema said as she led Jocelyn towards the Crooked House.

Jocelyn had no choice but to follow.