Chapter 2
1303 Words
Chapter 2
Sophia POV
It was morning fully and I rushed down the stairs, the cold morning air biting at my skin through my thin sweater. My backpack slammed against my hip as I reached for the front door.
“Where do you think you're going looking like that?” Dylan’s voice stabbed into my spine.
I froze.
Here we go again.
I turned slowly. Dylan was leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes, the same shade as midnight storms, flicked over me with that same disgusted look he always wore when I was around.
Alex and John sat at the kitchen table, laughing about something, but I already knew who the joke was going to be.
Me.
“I’m going to school,” I said flatly, forcing my chin up.
Alex snorted. “What, dressed like a trash panda? "Do you even own clothes that fit, Omega?”
John didn’t even look at me. He just sipped his coffee and said under his breath, “Why do we even let her stay here?”
The words hit harder than they should have. But I didn’t let them see it. That’s the thing about being an Omega: you learn how to survive. You learn how to make yourself invisible when necessary, and when that fails, you learn how to wear your pain like armor.
“Move, Dylan,” I said, trying to brush past him.
But he didn’t. He just stood there, blocking the door with that smug look. I had to squeeze past the narrow space between him and the wall, and as I did, his voice lowered, teasing, dangerous.
“You’re always in such a hurry, Sophia. But no one’s waiting for you.”
He was right. No one ever was.
**************
The school was huge, almost castle-like. Most students thought it was just an expensive private college, but behind the marble walls and gothic arches, it was something else entirely.
A werewolf academy.
A place where Alpha bloodlines were groomed, where dominance ruled everything, and Omegas like me were... reminders.
Reminders of what weakness looked like.
Of what they never wanted to become.
The walls of the academy were lined with power, real, pulsing, bone-deep power. Every step down those polished marble halls echoed with pride, control, and arrogance.
Students with Alpha blood carried themselves like they owned the world, their heads high, their eyes sharp like blades. Even the way they walked seemed rehearsed, slow, confident, deliberate. As if they knew the world would bend before them.
And me?
I was the stain they tried to scrub out.
People barely saw me in the halls. It wasn’t that they didn’t know I was there, they did. They just chose not to see me. I was the shadow behind the door. The shoes scuff on a white floor. The ghost no one wanted to admit they noticed.
Some looked through me like I didn’t exist. Their eyes sliding past me like I was nothing more than fog. Others? They were crueler. They shoved me when no one was looking. Bumped their shoulders into mine like I was in the way just by breathing. Laughed as my books hit the floor. Smirked when I winced but didn’t cry.
And then there were the whispers. The sharp, sly comments tossed over shoulders, never loud enough to be punished but just loud enough to pierce.
"Omega trash."
"She probably begged to get in."
"How does she not die of shame?"
I never reacted, not where they could see. Not where they’d enjoy it. That was the golden rule: never let the wolves smell fear. So I kept my head down, eyes forward, mouth shut.
But inside?
Inside, I was screaming.
And no one heard me.
I was used to it. It was normal.
Except lately, I’d started craving something else. A piece of the world where I didn’t have to hide. Somewhere I wasn’t just “the pathetic Omega living with her rich Alpha stepbrothers.”
So, at night… I became *Cherry*.
***************************
My bedroom was the smallest in the house, tucked near the attic stairs. Peeling wallpaper, a crooked ceiling fan, and a window that stuck half the time. But it was mine. And it was quiet and soundproof.
I logged in, adjusting the soft lighting near my laptop. The red lights gave my skin a warm glow. I pulled my hoodie halfway off my shoulders, just enough to tease, not reveal. My cherry lip gloss shimmered as I smiled at the camera.
“Hey, guys,” I whispered, voice soft, sweet. “Missed me?”
The chat exploded.
"Cherry, baby, I’ve been waiting all day."
"You look like a dream tonight."
"Spin for us, Cherry. Please."
They didn’t know my name. They didn’t care about my status. I wasn’t a nobody here. I was wanted. I was seen. Even if it was just pixels and fake usernames, it made me feel… alive.
Cherry.
That’s who they knew. A mystery behind a velvet-red mask that covered the top half of my face. A pair of soft, full lips. A voice that purred like warm honey. I wore the same mask every night.
Paired with an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder and shorts that no one could really see. Just enough to keep the fantasy alive.
I shifted on my bed, propped my laptop at a better angle, and let my legs dangle over the edge. My feet swayed slightly to the rhythm of the music playing low in the background.
The chat was on fire.
"Cherry, you’re killing me tonight."
"Those lips... girl, are you even real?*"
"Say my name again, please."
I giggled, leaning closer to the camera. “You boys always say the sweetest things.”
I blew a slow kiss, letting my fingers trail across my mouth. The comments flooded in again, faster this time. Emojis, usernames, hearts, some begging, others teasing. They didn’t see me. Not really. But they saw the version of me I wished I could be.
Confident. Bold. Beautiful.
I swayed a little, brushing my fingers along my neck, letting my hoodie slip just enough to expose my bare collarbone. The light from my desk lamp painted everything in a soft reddish glow. I winked and said, “Only ten more minutes tonight, then I’m gone. Think you can behave till then?”
They didn’t behave, of course. But that was the fun of it.
I laughed again, genuinely this time. It felt good to forget who I really was. To pretend I wasn’t the Omega no one wanted around. To forget that outside this room, I was invisible.
And then I heard it, a sound, soft, barely there, but real. A creak on the floorboard just outside my room. The hairs on my arms stood up. My blood turned cold.
I froze.
I looked toward the door.
Had I locked it?
No. I’d been careless, too excited, too lost in this world where I finally mattered.
The door was open, just a crack. A shadow shifted in the gap.
Then, he stepped into view.
Dylan
My elder stepbrother just caught me red-handed. He didn’t speak, didn’t blink, Just stared.
Our eyes locked.
He couldn’t see my full face. He probably recognized the mask but he saw enough. The curve of my lips The red light glowing off my skin.
His jaw tightened. His eyes were usually bored, mocking, darkened in a way I’d never seen before.
I couldn’t breathe. He just stood there, standing in the hallway, staring.
The door was open just a crack, but wide enough for him to see everything.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t shout. Didn’t mock. He just stood there.
Then, without warning, He…
- Writer
