002
1405 Words
Ayla's POV.
He looked different. Taller. Broader. His jaw was sharper now, clenched like he was constantly biting back rage. His dark hair was messy in that careless, expensive way that made girls lose their minds. But it was his eyes...those cold, wild eyes...that paralyzed me.
They weren’t just cold anymore.
They were deadly.
He stared at me like I was filth stuck to the bottom of his boot. A mistake the moon goddess hadn’t cleaned up yet. The hatred in his gaze was so sharp it cut into me like a blade.
Before I could even blink, he was in front of me.
And then...
slam.
My back hit the lockers so hard I saw stars. The sound echoed down the hall, followed by a stunned silence. My head snapped back, metal biting into the base of my skull.
The hallway froze.
“Look who decided to crawl out of whatever sewer she’s been hiding in,” Rowan muttered, voice dark and venomous. “The pathetic little leech.”
I barely had time to raise my hands before he grabbed my wrists and slammed them above my head, pinning me like I was made of paper. His grip was brutal. Unforgiving.
He leaned in close, and I flinched as his breath ghosted over my cheek. I could smell his cologne...something rich, dangerous, something that didn’t belong to a boy anymore.
Because he wasn’t just a boy.
He was already Alpha.
Crowned two months ago on his 18th birthday. King of Crimson Paw territory. Feared. Worshipped. Untouchable.
“What...what are you doing?” I whispered.
His lips twisted into a cruel smirk that never touched his eyes.
“Making sure the curse didn’t do my job for me,” he said flatly. “Guess you’re still breathing. Shame.”
My throat closed up. I could feel every pair of eyes on me. No one moved. No one breathed. No one dared stop him.
Because it was Rowan Thornridge.
And I was his perfect target.
He ripped the strap of my backpack off my shoulder like it was garbage. It hit the floor with a dull thud that somehow sounded final.
“You still can’t even look at people,” he sneered, grabbing my chin and yanking it up. “Still walking around like a kicked mutt. Still acting like you belong here.”
He laughed...cold and sharp. “I should have you dragged out of this school like the disgrace you are.”
I felt the sting behind my eyes. My chest burned.
He leaned in again, so close I could feel the heat of his anger rolling off him.
“You don’t belong here, Ayla,” he said, voice like ice over fire. “You don’t belong anywhere.”
I tried to speak. Tried to breathe. Nothing came out.
His eyes raked over me like I was something rotting in the sun. His lip curled in disgust.
“Still weak. Still disgusting. Still the same useless little mistake,” he spat. “If it weren’t for this damn bond...”
He stopped.
But I knew what he meant.
The mate bond.
I felt my wolf stir inside me, small and trembling, too frightened to come forward. Too wounded to fight.
“Please...” I whispered. “Just stop.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was forcing himself not to do more. His eyes moved for a split second...rage, pain, something I couldn’t name...but it vanished just as quickly.
He stepped back like I physically repulsed him.
No apology. No hesitation. No regret.
Just pure, burning hatred.
And silence.
He turned and walked away without looking back.
I sagged against the lockers, my knees buckling. My breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. My heart wouldn’t stop racing.
No one came. No one helped. No one even blinked.
Because it was him.
Rowan Thornridge. The crowned Alpha. The untouchable king of Crimson Paw .
The twin brother of Jace.
Jace, who used to be my only friend when my mom and I first moved here. Jace, who sat next to me when everyone else moved away. Jace, who died protecting me during the rogue attack two years ago.
Jace, who died holding my hand.
Because of me.
And Rowan...Rowan saw everything.
He was the one who found us. Who dropped to his knees in the dirt, screaming, cradling his brother’s lifeless body like the world had ended.
That was the moment the mate bond snapped into place.
Me. I was his mate.
The girl he hated more than anyone. The one he blamed for every second of pain he ever felt.
He never told anyone. Neither did I.
But I felt it. In every glare. Every insult. Every violent touch.
He couldn’t reject me.
So instead…
He was going to break me.
And he was doing a damn good job at it.
The bell rang.
A sharp, piercing sound that made me flinch like a gunshot. Just like that, the hallway came back to life. Shoes squeaked against the tile floors. Lockers slammed. Voices rose, low and murmuring like I wasn’t still standing there, trying to keep my lungs working.
I didn’t move.
Not until the last stragglers had passed by, still whispering and glancing at me like I was a piece of garbage they had to walk around. I finally bent down and grabbed my backpack off the floor. The strap was torn.
Figures.
I slung it over one shoulder and forced my feet to move. I had three more months of this. Just three. Then I was out of here. Off to Silvermist University…one of the top werewolf universities in the entire continent, far away in Glacier Fang territory. A place where no one would know me. No one would look at me and see the cursed, broken mate of the Alpha.
Just three more months.
I could survive it.
Couldn’t I?
I stepped into my classroom and instantly felt it. The shift. The atmosphere.
People were already in their seats, whispering in tight circles, snickering when I passed. I kept my eyes on the floor, my shoulders hunched. I was good at this. Invisible. Silent. Unseen.
And unwanted.
No one made space for me. No one ever did. I slipped into my usual seat at the back…second row from the window, farthest from the front.
I sat down.
And immediately froze.
Something squished under me. Sticky. Cold. Wet.
My heart dropped.
I shifted. Tried to stand.
But I couldn’t.
I tried again.
Still stuck.
No.
No, no, no…
I reached down, panicking, and felt it.
Glue.
A thick, disgusting smear of cold glue spread across the seat of my chair…and now across the back of my jeans.
Someone set this up.
My chest constricted, the heat crawling up my neck. I yanked harder, but it was stuck tight, strings of glue stretching with every desperate tug.
Laughter erupted behind me.
And then to my left.
And then across the room.
Loud. Cruel. Unforgiving.
“Oh my god,” someone snorted. “She actually sat on it.”
“Didn’t even check first. What a loser.”
“She’s probably used to being stuck to trash.”
More laughter. Loud and sharp and endless.
I stayed frozen, my nails digging into the desk, my vision blurring. I could feel the glue clinging to me like a mark. A scar. A stain that everyone could see. I didn’t dare turn around. Didn’t dare look at them.
Because I already knew.
It wasn’t Rowan this time.
It was her.
Celeste Kingsley.
The queen bee of Crimson High. On-again, off-again girlfriend of Rowan Thornridge. She wore her status like a crown and her cruelty like perfume. Expensive, poisonous, and impossible to ignore.
Her signature laugh rang out across the room…sharp, shrill, the kind that made your skin crawl.
Her clique of girls surrounded her like satellites, Amber, Lacey, and Vee…laughing so hard they nearly doubled over.
“Poor little Ayla,” Celeste cooed mockingly. “Did the mutt forget how chairs work?”
“Or maybe she thought it was a treat,” Vee added, grinning. “You know, like a bone. Something to chew on.”
Amber gagged dramatically. “Ugh, she’s so gross. It’s like she collects humiliation.”
“I’m pretty sure the moon goddess made her as a joke,” Lacey said, not even bothering to whisper.
- Writer
