Whispers of Prejudice

Kastor

Stepping through our front door after school, I barely set my bag down before my mother intercepts me. “Darling, we’re hosting a major political dinner this weekend,” she announces briskly. “Whatever plans you’ve made, cancel them immediately. Attendance isn’t optional.”

Well, isn’t that tragic. Now I’ll have to miss Chloe’s birthday party. Truly heartbreaking—if I hadn’t been dreading going in the first place.

“Consider my calendar cleared, Mother,” I reply smoothly, brushing a quick kiss across her cheek as I walk past toward the kitchen.

“Kast! Hold up!” my sister, Katerina, calls out, bolting through the front entrance right behind me and letting the heavy door swing shut.

My mother insisted on matching ‘K’ initials for our entire household: my father is Kastor, making me the second Kastor, she’s Kassandra, and my younger sister became Katerina. Personally, whenever I eventually have pups, their names are starting with literally any letter besides K.

“Spill it—what went down with Knox today? I know you heard,” Katerina demands, catching up to me. She and Knox share the same freshman class, which is a huge reason I hate upperclassmen picking on ninth graders. It could easily have been my own sister cornered out there.

“Knox Davenport?” my mother scoffs, her lip curling. “Is that boy stirring up as much chaos as his sister? Stay far away from him, Katerina.”

“Oh, stop it, Mother,” Katerina shoots back, squaring up to her right in the kitchen. “You’re constantly preaching about rising above petty judgment, yet look at yourself. Whenever the Davenports come up, you’re always judging them.” Ever since getting her wolf recently, Katerina has grown noticeably outspoken about the family habits she dislikes.

Silently, I’m cheering her on. Living constantly in the public spotlight keeps me from speaking out so bluntly, whereas Katerina risks nothing by being unapologetically herself.

“Not the Davenports themselves, sweetheart—only those two adopted strays of theirs, Maeve and Knox,” my mother replies coolly. “Allowing them into the packs was a mistake from the beginning. All they bring is conflict. Word reached me that Maeve beat up Alpha Darius’s Beta. Honestly, what respectable girl behaves like a brawler?”

“Wouldn’t the better question, Mother, be how Alpha Darius’s Beta managed to get beaten up by a girl?” I counter evenly, stepping up for Maeve. Frankly, I defend her around school so frequently now that the reflex comes naturally.

“Don’t start taking her side too, Kastor. Trouble follows that girl everywhere she walks. Both of you need to steer clear of them.”

“Answer me something, Mother,” I press, already knowing her mind is shut. “Would your opinion change if you knew Blaise and four other ranked wolves surrounded Knox—a freshman Katerina’s age—and were harassing him when Maeve stepped in and punched Blaise square in the face to protect her brother? Would that matter?”

My mother despises Maeve and Knox, yet she’d never voice a word of it publicly and risk offending Alpha Gideon and Luna Valeria. Goddess knows our family can’t afford to cross the leaders of the strongest pack in the country. Behind closed doors, though, the same woman who lectures us against being judgmental trades hushed gossip with her friends about why those two never belonged in pack society to begin with.

Knowing anything she says next will only expose her prejudice, my mother presses her lips into a tight, flat line before spinning on her heel and marching out of the kitchen. The brisk, sharp clack of her heels against the tile floor echoes across the room as she retreats, broadcasting her irritation without needing to say another word.

“Wait, is that seriously what happened?” Katerina asks.

“Yeah, every word of it.”

“Good for Maeve. Blaise is a total asshole,” she declares.

I flash my sister a grin. “Better hope Dad doesn’t catch you using language like that.”

She shoots me a knowing smirk. “Where do you think I picked it up?”

That gets a laugh out of me before Katerina leans in to kiss my cheek.

“Promise you won’t turn out like them, Kast. Please,” she says earnestly. “You’re way better than they are. Dad’s alright, I guess, but Mom’s a shit.”

“Reassuring to hear I still pass muster around here, though I have to ask—what exactly did your mother pull this time?” our father asks, strolling straight into the kitchen.

I glance toward my sister, who lets out a heavy sigh.

“I’m tired of her double standards, Dad. None of it’s fair.”

“And who is this double standard aimed at?” he asks.

“The Davenports,” Katerina says, studying our father’s expression closely.

Accustomed to constant public scrutiny, our father doesn’t flinch, his outward expression remaining completely unchanged. Still, I spot the faint stiffness tightening his lips. I’d probably miss it myself if he hadn’t spent years drilling me to keep a blank face regardless of the news. Half the time, I suspect he baits Katerina with questions like this strictly to practice keeping his own reactions locked down.

“I take it you mean two members of the Davenport household in particular?” he asks, his tone carefully measured.

“Obviously,” Katerina replies.

“And that’s my cue to head out,” I announce.

“Seriously, Kast, you’re abandoning me? You know Dad sides with Mom on this.”

“Yet you still walked right into it anyway,” I say, kissing the crown of her head and giving our father a brief nod before stepping out.

“I didn’t walk into anything! He was eavesdropping!” she calls after me as I head toward my bedroom.

Leaving her behind is a worthwhile lesson. Katerina needs to remember that ears are everywhere, and guarding her tongue matters inside our own house just as much as outside it.

Behind my closed door, I spend the rest of the night buried in coursework. Most students probably have no idea I’m currently first in line for Valedictorian, with Maeve trailing right on my heels to overtake me. Since I thrive on real competition, losing isn’t an option—though I doubt she even realizes she’s in contention for the spot.

In fact, I only know because Principal Garver called me into his office and practically begged me to secure first place at all costs so he wouldn’t be forced to award Maeve the title. Part of me wonders whether Garver would quietly doctor the grades in my favor even if she beat me. Winning off rigged numbers goes against everything I stand for, so I push myself relentlessly tonight to earn it outright.

Classes the following morning unfold much like any standard school day, save for one obvious change: wherever Knox walks across campus, not a single upperclassman steps in to bother him.

“Appreciate you spreading the word,” I tell Jaxon once I catch up with him.

“Won’t lie, plenty of guys grumbled about it,” Jaxon admits. “Still, we both know nobody’s crossing a direct order from you.”

“I know,” I reply, watching Knox pass a cluster of upperclassmen. A few try staring him down, yet nobody says a word, and the kid doesn’t flinch at their glares. “Think about it, Jaxon—what if that were Katerina, or your own little brother getting targeted? Wouldn’t you want someone stepping in?”

He lets out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

Campus remains quiet until shortly after lunch. Out of nowhere, something sharp registers across the bond from two of my pack members, and as I focus in, I recognize it immediately: raw fear.

A low growl rumbles deep in my chest as I pivot on my heel, following that directional pull straight toward my wolves in trouble.

“Alpha, what’s happening?” Jaxon asks, rushing up beside me.

“About to find out,” I snarl.

Stepping out of the main corridor into the locker bay stops me short: four she-wolves have been driven down onto their knees against the floor, their necks tilted high in total submission. Striding forward, I shove my way through the packed ring of students, an instant hush falling over the crowd as they scramble aside.

Breaking through the wall of onlookers brings another jolt of shock. Maeve stands directly over the kneeling she-wolves, projecting an aura so heavy and overwhelming it nearly chokes the air out of the space as she pins them down.

“Maeve!” I bark. Letting my Alpha aura surge outward, I snap out an order: “Turn them loose!”

The instant her gaze locks onto mine, a cold realization hits me—Maeve isn’t the one forcing these girls into submission. Her wolf, Vesper, is in control.

“No,” she snarls back at me.