Broken Beyond Belief

Chapter13:Unseen Expectations

Caleb’s POV:

We strolled through the front doors of Black Moon High like we owned the place — because, to most people, we did.

Students parted instinctively. Some nodded. Some smiled. Most watched from the corners of their eyes like we were something out of a movie. I could feel Chantelle pressing in close to me, her hand still lazily brushing my arm like she wanted the whole school to know exactly where she stood.

We didn’t even slow down.

First Period – Pack Politics & Governance

I slid into my usual seat near the front as Mr. Harrow scribbled out a map of pack territories on the board. Chantelle tried to squeeze in next to me, but I nudged her toward Mya with a smirk. If I didn’t keep her in check, she’d try climbing into my lap mid-lecture.

Mr. Harrow smiled when he saw me.

“Caleb. Want to walk us through the inter-pack alliance structure from last winter?”

“Sure,” I said easily, standing.

I walked to the board and began outlining the five major alliances and how the northern territories depended on trade relations with Crystal Eclipse and Crescent Hollow. Most of the class listened — some took notes. One or two of the girls giggled when I glanced their way.

What they saw: the confident future Alpha, explaining politics like I’d been born doing it.

What they didn’t see: the late nights spent reviewing territorial reports, memorizing council protocols, learning treaties by heart because I couldn’t afford to get it wrong. Not once.

By the time I finished, Mr. Harrow gave me a nod and a rare, genuine smile. “You’ll make a fine Alpha.”

I didn’t let the pride show on my face. But it was there. Buried deep.

Second Period – Advanced Combat Theory

This was Cole and Grey’s favourite class, mostly because it involved way more diagrams of weapons than lectures.

We spent most of the session breaking down historical battle tactics used by rogue-hunting units in the Southern packs. I took notes, asked the right questions, answered faster than anyone else — because that’s what was expected of me.

“You ever sleep?” Grey whispered, jabbing me in the ribs.

“Sometimes. In class. Like you,” I whispered back.

He grinned, and I smirked in return, but even as I wrote, I felt it.

A shift.

Like static behind my eyes.

A pulse of something uncomfortable in my chest — low, tight, agitated.

What the hell was that?

I frowned slightly and glanced around the room, but nothing was out of place. My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin. Restless.

I rolled my neck and shook it off.

Third Period – Calculus

I hated Calculus.

Not because I didn’t get it — I did. I just hated the hours I had to spend mastering it when my time could’ve gone toward training or pack planning.

Still, I aced every quiz. I had to. A future Alpha didn’t get C’s.

As I worked through equations, I noticed Chantelle’s gaze drifting toward me. She wasn’t subtle. She chewed on the end of her pen and winked.

I raised an eyebrow.

She mouthed, "Bored."

I mouthed back, "Focus."

She mouthed again, "Focus on me."

My jaw tensed. I didn’t have time for distractions — not with the war briefing tonight and the mission tomorrow — but I also knew I’d text her later. That was the thing about Chantelle. She wasn’t what I needed, but she filled the space until I figured out what was.

As the bell rang for break, the hallway quickly became the usual chaos — laughter, footsteps, lockers slamming shut. I walked with Grey and Cole, checking my messages as we pushed through the crowd.

That’s when I heard it.

“…Michael. Michael, yes, Alpha, right there…”

Cole’s voice, exaggerated and mocking.

The second I heard my dad’s name like that — twisted, dragged into something disgusting — I stopped.

My wolf bristled. Hard.

Then Nathan’s voice followed: “She’s been dreaming about the Alpha. s*x dreams.”

Laughter.

Something sharp cracked through me.

A buzzing behind my eyes. My blood burned.

I hadn’t even realized I was moving until Mira was in front of me, her back hitting the lockers with a sharp thud.

The look in her eyes — wide, startled, like a deer about to be torn apart — only made my grip tighten.

Words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them.

“Nothing little pack sluts like you, don’t even deserve to mutter my dad’s name, let alone live.”

Gasps echoed around us, but I couldn’t hear them. My wolf was raging. Pacing. I stepped closer, not even sure why. Her scent was all wrong — bitter and sweet and maddening — but it clawed at something deep in me.

I leaned in. Whispered:

“If you keep acting like such a w***e… I’m going to start treating you like one. I’ve been looking for something new to stick my d**k in anyway.”

The words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

I didn’t mean them. Not like that.

I didn’t even know why I said them.

Her face — red with shame, her whole-body trembling — did something to me I couldn’t explain. Something wrong.

I dropped her. Turned. Walked away without another word.

Fourth Period – Survival & Wilderness Skills

We were out behind the school now, standing at the edge of the wooded training grounds. This class was one of the more physical ones, and honestly? I liked it. No politics. No bloodline expectations. Just practical skill — and instinct.

Today’s focus was camouflage and improvised tracking.

“Alpha’s kid or not,” Instructor Radley barked as he tossed me a pair of black gloves, “you mess up your concealment and you’re the first one found.”

“Noted,” I said with a small grin.

We paired up, each team given ten minutes to hide deep in the treeline while the others rotated roles between searchers and runners. Grey and I worked like a unit. He took high ground; I tracked low. Silent signals. Controlled breathing. Every sound mattered.

This wasn’t just class. This was fieldwork training for the real thing.

The kind of thing I’d need tomorrow.

Most students treated it like a game. Some of them would never see combat, never get stranded behind enemy lines, never need to hunt in silence through rain and blood. But I would. I’d been doing drills like this since I was fourteen.

Still, it wasn’t perfection today. My wolf was twitchy. Distracted. The wind shifted at one point and I caught a scent — bitter, sweet, familiar and maddening.

Her.

Mira.

Even out here, the faintest trace of her sent something flaring through me like static in my blood.

I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore it. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe I needed to burn it out of my system in the gym later.

Because there was no way I was feeling anything for that girl.

Not irritation. Not curiosity. Not… anything else.

Right?

English Literature – The Distraction He Can’t Explain

I sat down near the window in English Lit and opened my copy of The Infernal Hunt. The class was already settling in, but I barely registered the chatter around me.

My wolf was restless. Still.

He hadn’t stopped pacing since the hallway.

I couldn’t shake it — the way Mira looked when I dropped her. How her skin flushed. How her eyes widened. The way her breath caught in her throat when I got too close.

Why do I care? I shouldn’t. She was nothing. An outsider. A stain on the pack’s name. A broken little charity case who didn’t even belong in our world.

And yet… she was still in my head.

Chantelle leaned across the aisle toward me, pen twirling in her fingers.

“After school?” she whispered. “Your place?”

I shrugged, flipping a page I hadn’t read. “I’ve got the war brief.”

She pouted. “So I’ll just warm your bed ‘til you’re free?”

Her voice dripped with promise, but it didn’t land the way it usually did.

Across the room, Mira sat stiffly, her face pale, hands still red from scrubbing something. Probably the aftermath of that cream pie prank. Her eyes flicked up once — toward me — then dropped like she’d touched fire.

My wolf Nanook growled.

What the hell is wrong with you? I thought.

Lunch was loud and packed — just like always. Our table sat dead center in the cafeteria. Everyone knew not to sit too close unless they wanted to be dragged into the jokes or ripped apart for breathing wrong.

I dropped into my usual seat, Grey and Cole flanking either side, Jacob already halfway through a steak sandwich. Chantelle was perched beside me, practically in my lap, scrolling through outfits on her phone while Mya, Emily, and Chloe argued about whether to go with chrome or matte nails for the party tomorrow.

Cole tossed a grape at Joshua’s head. "Oi, dumbass. What time you said everyone’s crashing at yours Saturday?"

“Ten. But if you're late, I’m locking the door and feeding your sorry ass to the rogues,” he grinned.

“Bold of you to assume they'd want him,” Jacob muttered.

The table erupted in laughter.

That’s when it happened.

Mira entered the cafeteria.

And, goddess, Chantelle spotted her like a predator scenting blood in the water.

“Well, well,” Chantelle said, standing with her tray. “Look who’s finally crawling out of the sewer.”

I watched as she whispered something to two younger girls — omegas desperate for approval. They nodded, grinning like idiots, and armed themselves with the leftover cream pies on their trays.

Mira didn’t even see it coming.

Splat.

First to the chest. Then her shoulder.

She froze. The whole room went silent — just long enough to hear someone moan exaggeratedly, “Ohh, Michael!”

Laughter exploded. Our table was howling before she’d even made it to the exit.

Chantelle strolled back, smug as hell, brushing invisible lint off her blazer like she hadn’t just orchestrated a public execution.

“Oh nooo,” she gasped dramatically. “Looks like the Alpha gave her another cream pie.”

“I think she’s still tasting the first one,” Mya snorted, collapsing in laughter.

Grey nearly spit his drink. “Bet she sleeps in a puddle of it.”

"She'll probably moan in her sleep again tonight," Nathan added.

Joshua leaned over the table, smirking. “Think she’ll ever shut up about the Alpha? Maybe she wants both of 'em.”

“I’d give her something to shut up with,” Cole said, tossing a chip in his mouth. “Might need a paper bag over her head, though.”

Grey laughed. “And earplugs. And maybe a blindfold.”

The whole table roared.

I chuckled too.

It was automatic. Easy. Expected.

But… something in me coiled tight as I watched her bolt from the room. Head down. Shoulders hunched.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t scream.

She just disappeared.

Like she always did.

And yet… I felt it again.

That prickle under my skin. The twitch of unease in Nanook. Like something about watching her break — even a little — didn’t feel as satisfying as it should’ve.

I grabbed my drink and forced the feeling down.

It was nothing.

She was nothing.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lessons — Lupine Ethics, Territorial Law, Combat History. Teachers nodded at me with expectation in their eyes. I gave the right answers. I participated. I didn’t miss a beat.

But I was distracted.

Every time I passed Mira in a hallway, Nanook tensed. Every time her name was whispered, it made me itch beneath my skin. Not because I cared about her.

Because I didn’t understand why I noticed her at all.

She wasn’t special.

She was broken.

She was nothing.

Then why couldn’t I stop thinking about her?

I dropped Chantelle and Mya off, and then drove the rest of us to the pack house for tonight’s briefing.

“Party prep tomorrow?” Grey asked.

“After the mission,” I said, eyes hardening.

He nodded. We all knew what was coming. What was on the line.

I drove back to the pack house, the sun dipping lower on the horizon, casting a deep golden glow over the rooftops.

Inside, the formal war room was already buzzing.

Alpha Michael stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his eyes calm but focused. My father. My example. My standard.

Beta Cain and Gamma Soren were already mid-discussion, maps and satellite prints laid out on the table, with red pins marking patrols and borders.

Nathan, Jacob, Joshua, Cole, Grey — they all filtered in after me. Quiet. Serious.

The briefing lasted over an hour — strategies reviewed, enemy positions debated, fallback plans outlined. Every voice carried weight. Mine included.

But when my father looked at me, really looked — I saw it in his eyes. Pride. Trust. Belief.

It made everything worth it.

When the others left, I didn’t.

I changed. Ran five more laps around the perimeter. Did weight drills in the lower gym. Trained until my lungs burned and my muscles shook.

I needed the noise. The pain. The clarity.

I showered again after, washed the sweat and dust from my skin, and ate in silence in the kitchen while Josephene prepped ingredients for the next day’s lunch.

“You never stop,” she said softly.

“I can’t afford to,” I said, just as softly.

I carried my food upstairs, finished my Lupine Law essay, and set my books aside. My body ached. My head throbbed. But I still didn’t feel done.

Because tomorrow, I’d face war.

And something told me… nothing about this battle would go the way we’d planned.