Page 6 of Beastkin

I glanced at the clock on my wall. Fifteen minutes until the portal opened. Fifteen minutes until I could finally breathe.

I grabbed my bag and took one last look around my room. Despite packing nearly everything, it still looked perfectly pristine, exactly as my mother preferred it. No evidence of personality, no signs of rebellion. Just another beautifully decorated cage.

As I headed downstairs, I found my mother waiting by the front door, a small basket in her hands.

“Some refreshments for your journey,” she said, handing it to me. “And a few potions for focus and clarity.”

“Thank you, Mother.” I took the basket, knowing I’d dump mostof its contents at the first opportunity. Herfocuspotions always left me feeling hollow and compliant.

She touched my cheek, her fingers cool against my skin. “We’ll see you at Samhain for the family gathering. Not a day sooner,” she added with a meaningful look. “Your studies come first.”

I nodded, relief flooding through me. No surprise visits. At least there was that small mercy.

My father appeared behind her, his face solemn. “It’s time.”

We walked together to the garden’s edge, where a small stone circle marked our private portal space. The air already hummed with magic, the veil between worlds thinning as the appointed hour approached.

I removed the token from my pocket, a small obsidian disc carved with our family crest, and placed it in the center of the circle. It began to glow with a soft blue light.

“Remember everything we’ve taught you,” my mother said, her voice tight with emotion that seemed more about losing control than losing me.

“I will.” For the last time today, I lied.

The portal flared to life, a swirling vortex of blue and silver light. Without looking back, I stepped forward, my bag clutched tightly in my hand.

Chapter 3

Phoenix

Widdershins Academy at last.

I stood inside the circle of standing stones as the campus sprawled before me. It was a Gothic wonderland of stone buildings and lush greenery nestled in the Appalachian Mountains. Students milled about in every direction, some clearly returning with the confident stride of upperclassmen, others looking as lost as I felt. Above me was a large wrought-iron gate that read:

Widdershins Academy

Est. 1723

I stood frozen for a moment, clutching my mother’s basket ofrefreshmentsthat I knew contained tracking spells and compliance potions disguised as innocent snacks. The weight of the invisible pendant around my neck felt heavier with each passing second, a constant reminder of my parents’ watchful eyes.

My first order of business was to get rid of this fucking basket.

I scanned the area and spotted a large metal trash bin near a cluster of oak trees. With purposeful strides, I crossed the courtyard, tossed the entire basket inside, and continued walking without breaking my pace. A small act of rebellion, but it felt monumental.

My heart pounded in my chest as I half-expected alarms to sound or my parents to materialize out of thin air, but nothing happened. Just the gentle murmur of students chatting and the distant call of birds in the surrounding forest.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the crisp mountain air. Freedom, while constrained by an invisible magical tracking device, tasted sweeter than I’d imagined.

All around me, the diversity of Widdershins was on full display. A group of students with the telltale amber eyes of wolf shifters lounged on the grass, laughing together. Near the entrance to what looked like a library, a tall student with bluish skin and gills visible on their neck chatted animatedly with someone whose fingers occasionally sparked with electricity.

I wanted to approach them, to introduce myself, to finally have the friendships my parents had denied me for eight years. But the pendant burned cold against my skin, a silent warning. Not yet. I needed to figure out how to neutralize it first.

Instead, I contented myself with exploration, meandering through the winding paths that connected the various buildings. The architecture was a fascinating mix of ancient stone structures that looked centuries old and newer additions with sleek modern lines, all somehow blending harmoniously.

Near what appeared to be the main quad, a bulletin board was crowded with colorful flyers. I paused to scan them. There were meetings all week for the Magical Mixed Martial Arts Club, the Interspecies Alliance Meeting, a Potion Brewing Competition, and even an event called the Full Moon Gathering that welcomed shifters to participate in a magical ritual. My parents would have a collective aneurysm if they saw me even reading these notices.

“You new here?” a voice asked from behind me.

I startled, turning to find a girl with vibrant purple hair and eyes that shifted colors like an oil slick in sunlight. Definitely not human, not fully witch either.