I was not in the best mood at school the next day. Having had next-to-no sleep, my small amount of shut-eye was disturbed by the sound of screaming. My mum had discovered the smashed door and woken up half the neighbourhood. Despite all my efforts, replacing a pane of glass just wasn't within my abilities. I had spent half the night cleaning blood off the floor and burning the rug, which was completely unsalvageable.

In the end, I had decided to make it look like someone had broken into our house, eaten some food and drink and then left again, only taking the rug. Not a likely story, but hardly unbelievable. Aside from the initial screaming, my parents had taken it pretty well.

Now I sat in my geography end-of-year test with my head on the desk, fighting the urge to fall asleep. The whitewashed walls and noticeboards were a lot more interesting than usual. Even the test paper in front of me seemed more appealing than thinking about the events of the night before.

Of course I had already finished the test (twenty-five minutes early). I supposed there was nothing left to do except begin the painfully boring task of checking my answers. Or I could consider the idea of glancing at Alex's paper, as he was sat directly to my left.

A look at the front of the room showed that our teacher was a lot more interested in her online shopping basket than in catching cheaters. Not that I was cheating anyway — the day I copied off Alex was the day pickles took over the world. I just found his test answers a lot more amusing than my own, if a lot less correct. Even the first answer on Alex's paper made me roll my eyes.

Question 1: Give the definition of a stakeholder and name an example.

Alex had written: Someone who rids our community of blood sucking monsters. E.g. Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Question 2: State a disadvantage of hedgerow removal.

Alex had written: The sheep will escape.

When asked to draw a diagram of a destructive plate boundary, he had done a very artistic rendition of a sea lion in a little hat.

Of course, he knew they were wrong, and I'd be willing to bet he knew the right answers as well. Alex had never been very bothered with school. As he said on a daily basis, the Moon Guard didn't care about your qualifications, so why should he?

My eyes skimmed down the paper, hiding grins at some of his answers. For the essay question about aging populations, I was fairly sure I could see the word genitalia repeated a dozen times. Very relevant, I was sure.

When the much anticipated final bell went, the high-pitched sound stung my ears. You would think that in a school full of shifters with amazing hearing, they might consider turning down the volume a couple of notches. I waited impatiently as the teacher waddled through the rows collecting the tests.

I supposed that I was lucky not to be taking my GCSEs at this point in time. As a werewolf 'private' school, we were able to have some freedom in the qualification system. Instead, the headmaster had opted for a set of internal exams that would give us equivalent grades without nearly as much of the work.

But don't think we were getting off lightly. With the extra time created by this system, we had to do lessons in shifter lore and werewolf studies, the only two subjects that the Moon Guard would even glance at. Shifter lore was actually next on my timetable — a revision session before the test later in the week.

I dragged my bag out from under my desk and threw it over one shoulder. My coat was tucked haphazardly through the lower part of the shoulder strap. A newly invented way of carrying things. Maybe I should patent it.

Alex slung a lazy arm over my shoulder as we walked out of the classroom, drowning out the sounds of our teacher shouting at some kid called Patrick for forgetting to write his name on his test. We navigated with practised ease through the streams of people in the corridor, all trying to go in different directions.

I slumped against the doorframe outside room thirty-one and fixed Alex with a disapproving stare. "You flunked that test on purpose."

"What was your first clue, Sav?" Alex asked sarcastically.

"Why do you even bother coming to school?" I said.

"To spend time with my best friend, of course."

"Smooth," I muttered. "And I'm your only friend."

"That's not true," Alex huffed. "I have plenty of friends. Patrick, you're my friend, aren't you?"

Patrick gave him a look like a rabbit caught in the headlights and replied with an inaudible mumble. But luckily for him, Alex had already moved on with his survey. "Are you my friend?"

The boy he'd asked nodded absent-mindedly. "Uh, sure."

I smacked Alex's arm. "Alright, point made. Just leave the poor kids alone."

One group of kids decided they needed to stop and chat in the middle of the corridor, creating a back-up as everyone else tried to squeeze around. Talk about first world problems. I was shoved by a sixth former who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Alex shouted after him futilely, "Watch it!"

"You'd think they would build school corridors wider than this," I grumbled.

"You'd think they wouldn't build schools at all," Alex argued. "What use do werewolves have for simultaneous equations?"

"It's supposed to teach you problem-solving and crap."

The bell went off again, shattering my eardrums for the second time that morning. We filed dutifully into the classroom and into our designated seats. Teachers didn't have to bother giving us a seating plan because it happened all by itself. Everyone always sat in their sectors and usually with other members of their family. Somehow, I didn't think the classrooms had exactly three columns of desks by coincidence.

I took my undisputed place beside Alex on one of the middle tables. One of my third cousins, also a Fairborne, was in front of us and two boys who I thought might be also be distantly related to me were behind.

This teacher was old. Old enough to have been alive when our ancestors first came to the island. In fact, he was the only one of the original thirty-seven to still be alive. He also happened to be one of my favourite teachers, mostly because he hardly ever made us do any work.

I didn't know his surname, just as we didn't know any of the teacher's surnames. Supposedly it was to stop us discriminating based on which teachers were a part of our sector. To me though, it had always seemed more like it was a way to stop us knowing which teachers were discriminating against us. They knew our surnames, but we didn't know theirs.

"Settle down, class," he said after giving us time to sit down and unpack our stuff. A few of the Curringham boys continued their malicious whispering, but the rest of the class fell completely silent.

"So as you know, your end-of-year exam is tomorrow. I thought that we could use today as a recap for everything you've learnt. Miss Fairborne, why don't you tell us how the island came to be colonised by werewolves?"

Oh great, speaking in front of the class. Hardly one of my preferred activities. I cleared my throat nervously and began the story from the beginning. "Back in the days when the Alpha King ruled in the north, a group of shifters decided they weren't happy with the way the packs were run. They were thirty-seven wolves strong and led by the King's own daughter, Elmira Llewellyn."

I paused for breath and took a quick glance around the room. Everyone was listening, with the obvious exception of the Curringhams. They had a feud with my family, which had been going on so long we had all forgotten what we were feuding about.

"Elmira chose Anglesey as a place to start her new colony. It was isolated and easily defendable, with the bridge being the only way to get to the mainland. Once they had settled in however, they noticed a few major differences."

"Very good. Patrick, can you tell us what the differences were?"

"Uh..." Patrick stuttered. He looked around desperately for help, and when none came he took a wild guess. "Something to do with fish?"

The teacher sighed despairingly. "No Patrick. There was nothing to do with fish. Firstly, this is the ancestral home of the Shadowcats, the only place on earth where they exist now. Secondly, the magic that allows us to shift is different on the island. Here we can only change into our wolf forms when the moon is in the sky, although the Shadowcats suffer no such limitations."

A Rochester girl a few seats to my left put her hand up eagerly. The teacher nodded towards her.

"The third difference is that we don't have soulmates," she exclaimed.

"That is correct, Alice. We can form a mate bond with people we love over time, but we don't have soulmates. Now, who wants to carry on the story?"

To my utmost amazement, Alex started speaking. It must have been the first time ever that he had willingly contributed to class. "The Alpha King called them traitors and attacked them, because um ... I think leaving went against pack law. There was a huge fight and a lot of the rebels died, but eventually they made peace with the king."

"Very eloquent, Mr Westford. By the time peace came, only thirteen adults of the original thirty-seven were left alive. And thus the thirteen families were born. Elmira was given the crown, and since that day the Llewellyns have ruled us."

Alice Rochester put her hand up again. "Sir, everyone says the Alpha King was honourable, so why did he attack his own daughter?"

"It had been long debated. You may be asked to discuss this point in your exam. The King's daughter broke the law and death was the sentence. Was he a good or bad person for upholding the law, even against somebody he loved?"

"They weren't hurting anyone. Being king isn't just about upholding the law. It's about knowing when not to." I hadn't meant to speak out loud. I definitely hadn't meant to say something so controversial in a society where even sitting in the wrong place could cost you dearly.

The class fell silent, deathly silent. The old man smiled at me, a thin dangerous smile. Then almost as quickly as it appeared, it was gone again "Savannah, a word, please. Outside."

I stood up, my cheeks burning. I wasn't the type of person to get in trouble. I had never even had a detention before. What if I got in serious trouble? I shuffled out of the door as fast as humanly possible, sneaking a quick glance back at Alex's worried face.

The teacher followed at a slower pace. He shut the door behind us and looked warily up and down the corridor. Only when he was sure it was empty did he start talking. And to my surprise, it wasn't to tell me off.

"You need to be careful. People will not mind you questioning the Alphas, but statements which justify breaking the rules like that are dangerous here."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"These are difficult times. The Queen is dying, her new husband is eager for power and the prince is still just a boy. When the succession isn't secure, it gives every power-hungry scumbag out there the idea that they can take over. Those seen to be speaking out against the monarchy are dealt with ... harshly."

What was he talking about? Was someone trying to take the throne? It was the first I'd heard of it. Then again, I hadn't heard anything about Shadowcats in the south either, until I found one in my living room. Maybe things were a little more unsettled than they seemed. I took careful note that he said the Queen's new husband, not the King. A little treason of his own.

"I understand," I said. "I won't say anything like that again."

He nodded briskly and gestured for me to re-enter the classroom. I took a seat, still a little dazed about the last five minutes. Alex nudged me with a concerned look. I gave him a distracted nod and tried to focus on the lesson. However, all I could think of for the rest of the day was the teacher's quiet warning.

And it was all I could think about later that evening, when I was at home and lounging around in front of the TV. Half of my attention was focused on watching Ted find his future wife, but the other half was turning little cogs inside my head.

'The prince is still just a boy,' he'd said. I had seen Prince Kaeden around often enough at school, even though he was in the year above me. At seventeen, he could hardly be called a child, but he wasn't exactly a man either. And the law stated that you must be eighteen years old to sit on the throne. I suppose it was a sensible rule, but surely they could make an exception?

No, I berated myself. That's exactly the kind of thinking that led to your little stunt in the classroom. Follow the rules, don't question them.

"Would you like to explain yourself, Savannah?" My mother asked me sternly. "I noticed it when I was tidying up earlier."

"Um ... explain what?" I asked.

Crap. Had she found some spot of blood I had missed? Had she noticed the missing bottle of gin? Did she know about Nate? Both of my parents had taken the 'burglary' surprisingly well, almost a little too well. They hadn't even commented on the odd scent around the house that I hadn't quite been able to eradicate.

"The grate," she explained impatiently. "It's still filthy."

I tried my best not to sigh in relief. It was only my failure at doing chores. Oh well, time to pull out the big guns.

"I tried my best." I made my voice as hurt as possible. "And you wonder why I don't want to do chores for you. Every time I try to help clean up, you just tell I didn't do it right and shout at me."

Mum had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. "Look, I'm not trying to tell you off. I'm grateful for the help, I really am."

There was a short pause.

"How about takeaway tonight? Fish and chips, maybe? You're stressed about all the exams, and I could do with a break from cooking," Mum offered hopefully.

I smiled for the first time since the night before. "That'd be great."

"Your usual?" She asked.

"Yes, please," I replied happily.

She bustled off to get the car keys, while I lay back and kicked my feet against the floor. A glint of metal in the corner of the room caught my eye. I pushed myself off the sofa and walked slowly over to it. I knelt down and ran a finger over the small, polished medallion.

It was made of silver most likely and depicted a feline head with bright green eyes. Hmm, now I wondered who that could belong to? You didn't exactly have to be Sherlock Holmes. Maybe Nate had dropped it while he was smashing my back door in. Jerk. Hadn't he ever heard of knocking?

I tucked it into a pocket and tried my darn best to forget about it. It was a constant reminder of Nate, whose injury and threats had given me more worries than I needed. More worries than I needed was a fairly accurate summary of the rest of the week.

Exams went painfully slowly. Watching Alex fail them was even more painful. I started packing for Evarlin as well, which scared me a lot because although I felt like I had been waiting half of my life for this, I was getting sceptical that I would get into the Moon Guard.

The whole entry process seemed very informal. You didn't have to apply or register: you just turned up on the first day of training. Every year, no matter how many people applied, they only took a maximum of five people — enough to make a new patrol unit. That made my chances pretty slim.

Slim meaning practically impossible.