The Test

"Oh, no, you did not just say that," she said, playfully pinching his side. She paused. "I want to show you something…"

"We're done with the tour, right?" he asked.

"Yes, but this place is special," she said, pulling him along.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," he said, following her.

The sun was already up, and it was way past lunchtime.

Struggling to walk over fallen branches, "Are we there yet?" Jack grumbled.

"Come on, we haven't even walked a mile, and you're already complaining," she sighed.

They walked for a few more minutes before Rose stopped. There was a small house, a chalet, in the middle of a beautiful garden.

"What is this place?" Jack asked, looking around as they walked in.

"I come here when I need to be alone, especially when I'm upset," she said, sounding a little sad. "My mum brought me here once. She used to take care of this place, before she…" Her voice trailed off.

Behind the chalet was a small bridge built on the shore of a river, which somehow was channeled to water the garden, it was a beautiful scenario.

After they looked around the chalet, they walked back to the pack house.

Rose and Jack walked down the long, dimly lit hallway, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. The only sound was the soft padding of their footsteps on the plush carpet. As they neared the end of the hall, they bumped into George.

"There you are!" George exclaimed, a hint of playful annoyance in his voice. "I've been looking everywhere for you." He glanced at Jack and then ruffled his hair playfully. "Hey, clumsy."

"…" Jack just grunted, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

Rose chuckled, a nervous sound, and glanced at Jack before turning back to George. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?" she asked, her voice firm.

"Yep," George replied, his playful demeanor still in place.

Jack turned to leave. "I'll head back to my room. See you guys later." He winked, a glint in his eye.

"The both of you." George muttered, his voice suddenly serious. The playful mask was gone, replaced by something harder, more intense.

Jack stopped and turned back, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Okay," he said simply.

…

George led them to his chambers. The room was large and elegantly furnished, a blend of dark wood and rich fabrics. A breathtaking view of the gardens lay beyond the floor-to-ceiling window.

George walked over to the window and kneed, crossed his legs, and tucked his hands to his pockets. His posture radiating an air of casual authority. 

He gestured for them to sit before turning to Jack, his gaze direct. "I'm sure Rose has filled you in on what's been happening lately…"

"Yeah," Jack replied.

"Okay," George cleared his throat. "Since you're still transitioning, we'll need to run some tests on you. Just to see what you can do… your strengths and weaknesses." He sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken implications.

Jack looked at Rose, who had been quiet, her expression unreadable, then back at George. "Okay, how long will that take?"

George turned back to the window, his gaze drawn to the birds soaring above the vibrant blooms. "Until we're sure you can control your powers," he replied nonchalantly.

Jack hesitated. "But I've got to…" He trailed off, unsure how to express his concerns.

George cut him off. "Don't worry about that. You can come after school," he said. "As long as it doesn't interfere with your studies… Besides," he added, his gaze shifting to Rose, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes, "you've got Rose."

He paused, as if remembering something. "Oh, and the training starts tomorrow morning," he said, glancing at his watch. "That's all for now."

Jack simply mumbled an "Okay" with a furrowed brow before walking out with Rose.

"Rose," George called out.

Rose stopped and turned back, giving Jack a reassuring look before he left. She closed the door behind her and turned to George. "What is it this time?" she asked, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

George strolled over to her and casually, with two fingers, moved some strands of hair off her shoulder, revealing the mate mark on her neck. The mark, a swirling grey wolf howling at the moon, stood out starkly against her skin.

Rose hadn't realized what he was doing. When she saw what he was looking at, she quickly pulled away, a blush rising on her cheeks. But it was too late; George had seen the mark.

"When were you planning on telling me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, the air in the room suddenly thick with tension.

"I wasn't hiding it," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

George remained quiet, his gaze intense and unyielding.

Rose felt a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. She knew she couldn't hide anything from him; he always finds out eventually. "Okay, fine," she admitted, her shoulders slumping. "I was going to tell you."

George was still silent for a moment before walking back to the table behind him. He picked up a strange-looking knife, its blade crafted from a dark, unfamiliar metal. Placing it on the table, he said, "Doris found this on your bed this morning while cleaning your room."

As soon as she saw the knife, images flashed through Rose's mind, fragmented and disturbing, like broken pieces of a nightmare. "No, how did th-that…" she stammered, her voice catching in her throat. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

George's brows furrowed, noticing her reaction. "What is it?" he asked, his gaze narrowing, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

He squinted suspiciously at her. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Unsure how to broach the subject, Rose hesitated. "I've been having dreams," she began, looking at George, who had a puzzled expression. "They're not just dreams, they're like… events that have happened, or will happen." She slowly recounted the disturbing images and bloody scenes from her dream.