Chapter 3- LOGAN'S P.O.V
933 Words
As I walked into the classroom, the usual silence fell over the students. Everyone stopped and stared at me. The girls, as always, were already daydreaming about me.
"Alpha Logan, you are welcome," the teacher greeted me quietly, his voice low enough for only me to hear. I gave him a brief nod in acknowledgment.
In this school, there were both werewolves and humans. The teacher, like me, was a werewolf. I scanned the room, my gaze drifting across the students until it landed on her—a girl sitting in a hoodie. The moment I saw her, my wolf stirred, and I could feel him screaming inside me.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
I couldn’t stop staring at her, even though her head was resting on the desk, the hoodie obscuring her face.
Why is she wearing a hoodie? I wondered. Is she... hiding something?
I made my way toward my seat—next to hers. When I reached her, I tapped her lightly. She raised her head, and when her ocean-blue eyes met mine, everything inside me went still. My heart skipped a beat.
Those eyes…
I tried to see the rest of her face, but the hoodie kept her in shadows. Frustration bubbled.
She stared at me, dazed.
“When you’re done gawking at me, move,” I said, smirking with a trace of arrogance.
But she just kept staring, lost in her trance.
“Miss Parker, are you okay?” the teacher asked.
She blinked, snapping out of it. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she replied. Her voice—it was soft, melodic, beautiful.
“Then would you mind leaving Mr. Pierce’s seat?”
“Oh, okay,” she mumbled, embarrassment washing over her as she stood. “I’m sorry.”
She moved to the seat in front of me. I sat down, still watching her hoodie. I wanted—no, needed—to see her face.
She shifted uncomfortably, like she could feel my eyes on her. I took a breath, trying to calm myself. Her scent—like roses—hit me, soothing and intoxicating.
“Hmmm,” I muttered under my breath.
Then the bell rang, and she quickly left the room.
What’s wrong with her? I wondered as I watched her go.
I headed to my next class, still distracted.
So, I guess I never really introduced myself. I’m Logan Pierce, Alpha of the Red Moon Pack—one of the most powerful and feared werewolf packs in all of Europe. My beta is Dylan, my gamma is Ace, and my delta is Zack.
As I stepped out, Dylan met me in the hallway. “Hey, Logan.”
I turned. “What?”
“Did you see that girl in the hoodie?”
“Yeah, why?” I replied, already annoyed.
“Well, Teresa said she wears it because she has a scar,” he said, hesitantly.
I stopped walking. “What?”
Anger bubbled in my chest. I stormed out toward the woods behind the school.
I found a tree and punched it repeatedly, trying to vent the storm inside me. “Why did I have to be mated to a human—and one hiding her face?”
“Stop making a fuss,” Max, my wolf, said in my mind.
“What did you just say?” I snapped.
“I said stop making a fuss.”
“Have you lost your mind? She's human and she has a scar! How is that fair?”
“So what?” Max said calmly. “She’s our mate.”
“Just shut up,” I snapped and blocked him out.
After cooling down, I got a call from Ace.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s lunchtime.”
“I’ll be there.”
I made my way back. Distracted by my phone, I didn’t notice until I bumped into someone.
I looked up—and there she was again. The hoodie girl. Our eyes met, and that connection flared again.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
Something snapped in me.
“Maybe if you took that damn hoodie off, you might see where you’re going,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Huh?” she asked, her voice small, confused.
What the hell is wrong with you, Logan? I cursed myself, running a hand through my hair.
I couldn’t take it back. So I turned and walked away.
---
Bonus Chapter
EMILY'S P.O.V.
“He's a weird guy,” I muttered, thinking about the blonde-haired boy with the forest-green eyes.
I had promised my dad I’d make at least one friend this week. Today was Friday. If I didn’t try now, I’d be breaking that promise.
I stood outside the cafeteria doors. My heart pounded.
“Emily, you can do this,” I whispered.
I pushed the doors open.
Instantly, every head turned toward me. Dozens of eyes. Judging. Whispering.
I froze.
My palms were sweaty, my throat dry. I tried to take a step forward, but my feet felt like lead.
No. I can't do this.
I turned and walked out, the door swinging shut behind me. Cold air from the hallway wrapped around me as I leaned against a locker.
“Emily, breathe,” I whispered. “You’re okay.”
But I wasn’t. My legs trembled. My chest tightened.
“Hold yourself together,” I whispered again, but I was already falling—
Except... I didn’t hit the floor.
I was caught. Strong arms wrapped around me. I caught a whiff of mint. Familiar. Calming.
Then everything went black
- Writer
