Claimed By Her Step Brothers; Theirs To Own

Episode 10

CHAPTER TEN

The silence of the hallways didn't last. As soon as I stepped away from the relative safety of the brothers, the air turned toxic. Every head snapped in my direction. The whispers became unnecessarily louder

“It’s her. I’d recognize that cursed face anywhere.”

“Why is she out? Shouldn't she be locked up? A murderer should not be allowed to walk so freely.

I clutched my bag to my chest like a shield. Being called a murderer hurt, but the looks of pure, unadulterated disdain hurt more. I tried to drown out their voices from my head as I walked away from them.

I soon found an empty corridor and settled in there, embracing the silence.

I found a curriculum draft in my bag. Chemistry 101. I hadn't seen a classroom in twelve years, and now I was expected to understand "Molecular Foundations"? It was a setup. They wanted me to fail.

An exhausted sigh escaped my lips. Left to me, I’d spend the whole day here but I knew better than to defy orders.

I scrambled to my feet, reluctantly made my way to the security I had seen earlier on my way here.

He raised his brows in astonishment at my sight but said nothing. I had no idea if the astonishment is âbout seeing a female in an all Male school or if it’s about the appearance of the murderer child in the school.

He described the way to my first class.

Thirty minutes late into a two hour lecture time course, I hurriedly walked to the classroom, ignoring hostile stares as I walked past.

I finally reached, my heart hammering against my ribs. I pushed open the heavy oak doors, and the world stopped.

The teacher, Mrs. Trolley adjusted her glasses, looking at me as if I were a cockroach that had just crawled onto her desk.

“Did you take a wrong turn, dear? This isn't a finishing school for girls. Please leave.”

White knuckled palms gripped the handle of my bags tighter.

“I have been admitted into this school, Mrs Trolley” I responded, reading out her name from the tag she had on her chest.

Mrs. Trolley’s face contorted in an obvious “you are giving me some bullshit” stare.

“Admitted? Here?” She adjusted her glasses, peering at me intensely “That is quite impossible. This institution has maintained a strict male-only lineage for over a century. You must be mistaken, or perhaps someone has played a very cruel prank on you.”

I handed her the crumpled paper.

She snatched it, her eyes darting across the text. Her face went pale, then contorted into a look of sheer disbelief. “This is... official” She looked at the class, then back at me. “Well, since you’ve forced your way into my lecture, the least you can do is tell the class who you are.”

I walked to the front, my legs feeling like jelly. I didn't look at the rows of predatory young Alphas. I looked at the back wall.

“My name is... Freya Ashwood.”

The silence shifted from curious to lethal. The "Murderer Daughter" had arrived.

My eyes scanned the room and locked onto Ryker in the third row. He wasn't surprised. He was leaning back, a cocky, cruel grin on his face. But as his eyes drifted down to my legs; to the skirt that was far too short, barely covering my mid-thigh, his grin vanished. His jaw tightened, and a flash of something that looked like fury crossed his eyes.

“Ashwood?” a voice sneered from the back. “The Alpha’s abandoned daughter?? The one who killed-”

“That’s enough!” Mrs. Trolley snapped. She pointed to a lone desk at the very back, isolated from everyone else. “Take a seat at the very back, Miss Ashwood. If you can even understand the material, that is.”

The lecture was a blur of hostile glares. When the bell finally rang, I followed the crowd out. Ryker walked past me without a word. When his friends asked how he felt about having his sister back, he just shrugged. "She’s a charity case. Should be in the dungeon."

I spent six hours being a pariah.

By the time I reached the SUV, I was shaking. After six hours of torture, wicked whispers, hostile eyes… It was finally over. At least, so I thought.

Not until Quinn and Xavier saw me waiting beside the SUV so we could all head home.

“What the hell is that?” Quinn’s voice barked.

He and Xavier were marching toward the car. Quinn reached me first, looming over me until I was pressed against the hot metal of the SUV. His eyes weren't on my face. They were pinned to the hem of my skirt.

“Did you cut this?” he demanded, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, low growl. “Is this how you get attention? As if being a murderer was not enough to make people stare?!”

“I didn't cut it,” I responded sharply, my eyes burning. “The tailor... the measurements were wrong. I had no choice.”

Ryker let out a harsh, mocking bark of laughter. “Measurements wrong? Or did you think a thousand wolves needed a show? You look desperate, Freya. It’s pathetic.”

I looked at Xavier, hoping for a shred of the "Savior" I’d seen earlier. He didn't speak. He just looked at the hem of my skirt, then at my face. His golden eyes flared with a dark, unreadable heat for a split second before he looked away, his expression returning to the usual i different mask

“Get in,” Quinn hissed, ripping the door open. “In the back. Hide those legs before I decide to give the school something else to gossip about.”

I scrambled into the dark interior of the SUV, tucking my bag over my lap to cover as much as possible.