chapter 3
1120 Words
Marcus was already awake by the time I came downstairs.
The house smelled like coffee and toast. He stood at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, movements calm and deliberate, like he’d already decided how the morning would go.
“You don’t have to rush,” he said without looking at me. “You’ve got time.”
I nodded and poured myself a glass of water. My stomach felt tight, but I ignored it. Talking about nerves wouldn’t change anything.
He slid a plate across the counter. “I’ll pick you up after school.”
“I can walk,” I said.
“No.”
his tone was final so I didn't say anything.
The drive to Redwood Ridge High was quiet. Trees lined the road, tall and packed too close together, their shadows stretching across the pavement. Marcus kept his eyes ahead, hands steady on the wheel.
“Front office already has your papers,” he said. “They’ll give you your schedule.”
“Okay.”
When we pulled up, he didn’t turn the engine off right away.
“Stay where people can see you,” he added.
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
He looked at me then. Just for a second. “It means I’ll be right here when the bell rings.”
I got out before I could ask more.
The school was bigger than I expected. Not chaotic, but busy. Students moved in clusters, voices overlapping, lockers slamming. A few people glanced at me as I passed, their eyes lingering a beat too long before looking away.
I told myself it was normal. New girl effect.
The front office handed me my schedule with polite efficiency. No tour. No questions.
I found my first class on my own and took a seat at the back.
It felt safer there. Like I could disappear if I needed to.
I set my bag down, pulled out my notebook, and stared at the board.
That was when the room changed.
Not suddenly. No one spoke. But the air shifted. Chairs creaked. A whisper behind me cut off mid sentence.
I felt it before I understood it.
A stare.
Not passing. Not curious.
I turned slowly.
Our eyes met.
He stood near the back of the room, one hand resting on an empty desk, watching me like he’d been there the entire time. Dark eyes. Steady. Unblinking.
We didn’t look away.
Seconds passed. Too many to be accidental. The rest of the room seemed to blur, like everything else had dropped into the background.
Then the teacher cleared her throat and began class.
The moment broke.
When I looked again, he had taken his seat.
But the feeling didn’t leave.
I spent the rest of the period aware of my posture, my breathing, the space behind me. When the bell rang, I packed up quickly and left with the crowd.
The second class passed without incident. So did the third.
By lunch, I almost convinced myself I’d imagined the whole thing.
The cafeteria was loud and smelled like food I didn’t want. I grabbed something simple and sat at an empty table near the side, eating quickly.
As I stood to leave, I collided lightly with someone stepping in.
“Sorry,” I said automatically.
He steadied himself with ease. Tall. Dark hair. Calm expression.
“It’s fine,” he said.
His voice was even. Not annoyed. Not warm either.
Someone behind him laughed.
“Yo,” the guy said. “That’s the girl.”
The one in front of me glanced back. “What girl?”
“The one from this morning,” the other said. “Your seat.”
I frowned. “Seat?”
His gaze returned to me. Not hostile. Not amused. Measuring.
“You sat in the back,” he said.
“Yes.”
“That was mine.”
“Oh.” I paused. “I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
Something about the way he said it made my shoulders straighten.
“So,” I said, folding my arms lightly, “do you want it back?”
The guy behind him snorted.
He didn’t answer right away. Then, “No. You can keep it.”
“That’s generous.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. Barely.
“Just don’t make a habit of it.”
I met his eyes. “I sit where I want.”
This time, something flickered there. Interest.
“Noted.”
We stood there a second too long.
Then he stepped aside.
I walked out with my heart beating faster than it should have been. He hadn’t threatened me. Hadn’t raised his voice.
Still, it felt like I’d crossed into something I didn’t understand.
School ended without incident.
I waited where Marcus had told me to. When his car pulled up, relief hit harder than I expected.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. “Just school.”
He studied my face, then nodded and drove.
As we pulled away, I glanced back at the building.
For a moment, I thought I saw the same guy standing near the doors, watching the parking lot.
Then the trees closed in, and the school disappeared from view.
I told myself not to overthink it.
But I didn’t forget the way he’d looked at me.
Damien POV
I shouldn’t have engaged her.
That was the rule. Observe. Correct if necessary. Move on.
Instead, I stood there longer than I needed to, watching the way she held her ground like she didn’t realize she was standing in a place no one challenged. Most people avoided my space without thinking about it.She didn’t.When she met my eyes, there was no calculation there. No fear. Just awareness. Like she was bracing for something she couldn’t name.That bothered me more than defiance would have.
“You sat in the back,” I’d said, expecting her to apologize. Step aside. Yield.She hadn’t.
Now, as I watched her walk away, the noise of the cafeteria slowly returning around me, I realized something else had gone wrong.
My wolf hadn’t pushed forward.
He hadn’t snarled or demanded correction.
He’d gone quiet.Alert.
I clenched my jaw and turned back to my table, forcing myself to focus on the familiar faces, the usual conversations. Control was discipline. Discipline was survival.
Still, when the final bell rang later that day, my attention shifted without permission.
I saw her before she saw me.
Standing near the front steps. Waiting.
I stayed where I was, watching as a car pulled up and she climbed inside without looking back. Only then did I realize my fists were clenched.
That was new.And I didn’t like it.
- Writer
