The Beta's Warning

Chapter Three – The Stranger’s Warning

The morning sunlight spilled across the courtyard, bright but far from comforting. Vee tugged her sweater sleeve further down her wrist, fingers curling into the fabric as though it could shield her from what had happened the night before. Every step across the cracked pavement felt heavy, dragging her deeper into the day she wasn’t ready to face.

Those eyes still haunted her. Golden, piercing, alive with something that didn’t belong to any ordinary human being. They blazed in her memory like an afterimage burned into her vision, and no amount of blinking could chase them away. She had told herself, over and over, that it must have been exhaustion playing tricks, shadows moving in strange ways when she was too tired to think straight. But the burning scratches beneath her sleeve refused to let her believe the lie. Each pulse of her heartbeat sent a sting through her arm, a reminder carved into her skin that last night had been far too real.

The chatter of students drifted around her, ordinary voices talking about ordinary things. Yet even those sounds grated on her nerves. She wished she could vanish into the crowd, disappear until her body stopped aching and her mind stopped replaying that moment in the dark. But fate rarely gave her such kindness.

Melissa’s voice sliced through the air like a blade.

“Oh, look who decided to crawl in.”

Vee stiffened, jaw clenching as her foster sister swept past with her usual entourage trailing behind her like shadows. Melissa’s eyes sparkled with malicious amusement when they landed on Vee’s sleeve. The smirk that spread across her lips promised trouble.

“Long sleeves in spring?” Melissa tilted her head in mock innocence. “What are you hiding, Vee?”

Heat rushed to Vee’s cheeks, but she didn’t give Melissa the satisfaction of a reaction. “Mind your business,” she muttered, shoving through the doorway before her foster sister could fling more venom.

The classroom swallowed her whole, its walls painted in faded colors that had long ago lost any cheer. She slid into her seat, keeping her head down, praying Melissa would lose interest. But even as the lessons dragged on, the fire in her arm only grew worse. By the time the lunch bell rang, it throbbed so sharply she could barely think straight.

She couldn’t stay here. Not with Melissa’s laughter in her ears and the whispers that always followed her like gnats.

Vee slipped out of the building and crossed the street, each step fast, almost frantic. She pushed the door open, and the bell of the half-empty little café opposite the school chimed softly. The smell of coffee and warm pastries greeted her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her chest.

Only one other person sat inside, a boy by the window. His presence pulled her to a halt.

Not Rio.

This boy was different. His eyes weren’t gold. They were sharp, gray, cutting, and observant, as if they could peel back her layers and see every secret she tried to hide. Yet the expression on his face wasn’t cruel. His smile, when it appeared, was easy and strangely disarming, the kind that could coax people into lowering their guard.

“Rough morning?” he asked, voice casual, almost friendly, as though they were old acquaintances.

Vee blinked, thrown off balance. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He gestured to the chair across from him, his tone so natural it was unnerving. “But maybe you should sit. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Her pride screamed to ignore him, to keep walking, but her body betrayed her. Against her better judgment, she slid into the seat. “And you are…?”

“Ted,” he replied simply, as though the name was explanation enough. His gaze flicked to her sleeve. “And you’re Vee.”

Her stomach knotted. “How do you”

“Word travels fast,” he interrupted smoothly, leaning forward with an intensity that made her uneasy. “Especially about someone carrying… unusual wounds.”

Her pulse stumbled. Vee’s hand darted to her sleeve, tugging it lower. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice softened, but the edge beneath it sharpened the air. “Show me.”

“No,” she whispered, nails biting into her palm.

“Then at least listen.” He leaned back, studying her as though she were a puzzle he had already solved. “Those scratches aren’t normal. They won’t fade like simple cuts. They’ll burn, itch, gnaw at you until you can’t sleep. They’re a mark. Not of death, but of belonging.”

Her chest constricted, every breath jagged. “Belonging to what?”

Before he could answer, movement beyond the glass caught her eye.

Across the street, leaning against a lamppost with deliberate ease, was Rio. His golden eyes weren’t glowing this time, but the weight of his stare sent heat flooding through her veins. He wasn’t smiling. There was nothing playful about him now. He looked like a predator tracking his prey, patient and unyielding.

Vee’s breath hitched. Her hands curled around the edge of the table, knuckles whitening.

Ted followed her gaze and let out a sigh that carried both irritation and resignation. “Of course he’s here. He’s always here.”

“You know him?” Her voice trembled, fragile as glass.

“Better than you do,” Ted answered with a humorless twist of his lips. “And trust me, stay away.”

The warning clung to her skin long after she left the café.

Back at school, things only worsened. The whispers had multiplied, feeding off Melissa’s relentless tongue. Everywhere Vee walked, snatches of voices clung to her like static.

“She’s weird.”

“Always sneaking off.”

“Bet she’s into witchcraft or something.”

The words dug under her skin, sharper than claws. She shoved past the whispers, holding herself together with sheer force of will, though every step threatened to splinter her. She thought she could survive the rest of the day if she just kept her head down.

But when she slid into her seat, she found the note.

It wasn’t folded. Just a torn scrap of paper lying on her desk, as though someone had placed it there seconds before she arrived.

You don’t belong here. The woods are calling.

Her fingers trembled as she snatched it up and crushed it into her palm. The paper crinkled loudly in her grip, but no one looked at her. Melissa was whispering with her friends, grinning with the satisfaction of a snake. Ethan stared at the chalkboard, lost in thought.

No one seemed guilty. No one seemed to care.

But someone knew.

Someone was watching.

And whoever it was wanted her to follow.