Chapter 2: Rejection.

1177 Words
Rand Thor's POV ************************************************************* Thoros Myr. I saw him for a second at Headmaster's Blackwood's office and the cold way he looked at me made something dark and ugly immediately flare to life in the pit of my stomach. He can't be up to any good, returning here. And it was painfully obvious, but to only me it seemed. The rest of the school are buzzing idiotically around him, he maintained a stoic unyielding front all day as he was paraded through the classes, being introduced by Headmaster Blackwood himself like some damn trophy. I considered sending word home to my father about the Valgerds returning to Crescent Moon through their heir, but knowing my father and the influence he has, he most definitely knew about his presence here already. I don't think anything happens without my father's knowledge. He was that well-informed and his influence is far reaching. I strive to become the man that he is. The pressure of that expectation has weighed on me for as long as I could remember. It makes it hard to breathe sometimes. When Headmaster Blackwood introduced Thoros Myr to me earlier this afternoon, I made the dumb mistake of offering my hand first for a handshake. It was an unbidden moment of unthinking kindness that I would regret for as long as I breathe. His jaw had tightened and he didn't take my hand. I clenched my fist, eyes hardening to match the cool fire in his as I withdrew the gesture, message gotten. His eyes were dead dark things that didn't terrify me as much as irritated me. I could see myself how he saw me because of my name and who I was. The history we shared before either of us was even born. And in that instant, I hated him with the same intensity he hated me too. I don't know the details behind his family's banishment. That is reserved for my father's inner court. An inner court he didn't deem me fit to belong to, just yet, till I had proven myself, graduating top of my year from Crescent Moon Academy. Something I was ashamed to admit when my friends asked me about it after our icy encounter so I lied and said it wasn't something I was authorised to talk about. Whether they bought it or not, I couldn't tell. But the general knowledge available to the rest of the other clans was that the Bloodstones were sabotaging our safety as werewolves well hidden and blended into the misty woods of the Pacific Northwestern region. To the humans on the other side of the world. They established a sort of communication with them and were betraying our kind. My father organised a bloodless coup and made the arrangements to send them on exile, never to return for any reasons. The conditions were hugely dishonourable, and that is tantamount to actual death as werewolves. The entire Bloodstone Clan and their eight different packs was cleared out. Publicly disgraced and shunned. Banishment to a werewolf is the highest form of torture and hence the bets form of punishment. Nobody knew or cared to find out how the Bloodstone Clan was faring once they were escorted outside our borders. I am at my desk, trying to study before I retire to bed and f*****g Thoros Myr wouldn't leave my head. I can't keep that icy look of pure hate and animosity he had in his eyes out of my head. It gnaws at me. How dare he? The audacity to look at me like that. I am the Alpha-Heir. He is nothing but a disgraced bastard son of an exiled Alpha. A subtle knock at my door drags my attention to my surroundings, the candlelight on my desk has burned low and my combat technique textbook remains on the page it was on at dinner. No progress whatsoever and there is only one person to blame for that. I hate how much his presence has destabilised me for the better part of my day. I can't get over the fact that he must have ulterior motives for being here. It is a hunch that I can't disregard. I have contemplated multiple times about reaching my father over this, surely he can't be okay with an offspring of the Valgerds returning to his territory. "Come in." I glance at the clock, it is midnight. There can only be one person at the door and I don't know if I want to see her tonight. I am not in the best of moods, thanks to Thoros f*****g Valgerd. Morgana Balkin steps through a slit in my door, purple dyed hair parted to the side over sharp cheekbones that gives her face a serious angular lift. She catches my eyes immediately with a gleam in hers, the candlelights in my room dance in them and for a second, I forget all about Thoros. "Hey you." She says in that low sultry voice that never fails to get my blood roaring with sinful pleasures and in three full confident strides, she is at my desk, perching delicately on my thighs. There are so many reasons why this was wrong. Morgana is my cousin. Whilst this wasn't usually an issue in our world amongst our kind, I have a fated mate from the Lunaria Clan, picked out by my father himself for strategic reasons of course. Sylvia Fenris. A red haired innocent looking beauty. I am not stupid, I am not in love with Morgana. I don't even think I like her all that much. She is fiercely competitive and ambitious, it is obvious what she was doing with me. But I am only glad to play along. I shouldn't be doing this with her but she offered herself to me and I didn't resist because where was the fun in that? The things I do with Morgana, I couldn't do that with Sylvia. For her honour or whatever. So, I can have my fun with Morgana and keep things innocent and honorable with Sylvia. I am not in love with Sylvia either. We have dated for about three months now since the announcement of our impending fated mating. It has been lukewarm at best. She is pretty but there was something innocent and independent in her fierce green eyes that ticked something ugly and possessive within me. Morgana is on her knees between my legs, warm eager mouth wrapped around my c**k when my door opens and Sylvia is there like a mirage of the night, staring wide eyed at us, mouth slightly open in shock. Morgana glances back and when she sees Sylvia, she smiles slyly and pushes me deep down her throat, I am embarrassed by how f*****g hot I found that. Sylvia turns and shuts the door loudly behind her, the sharp sound knocks some sense into my head, I tug myself free from Morgana's grip and get up, not minding how roughly I push her aside when she tries to stop me from going after Sylvia.
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