HER POSSESSIVE MATE

Penelope's POV

"Your blowjob the night before last was terrible. Did you forget everything I taught you? You stupid slut, no wonder your family doesn't even like you." Scott's tall, muscular frame blocked the only exit of the bathroom. His small eyes glared at me, like the pale monster from Pan's Labyrinth about to devour me alive.

"Cat got your tongue? Since you didn't remember, let's go over it again." Seeing my silence, Scott took two heavy steps toward me, his imposing presence forcing me to stumble three steps back.

"T-This is school… s-someone could come…" I stammered nervously, trembling like a lamb trapped in this filthy men's restroom, awaiting slaughter.

Scott let out a dismissive chuckle. "So what? Shouldn't you be used to this by now, Woods' little bitch?"

"I'm not a slut or a bitch—"

His steps grew closer, and my voice shrank until it was barely a whisper. Scott backed me into the corner, leaving me no escape. His sweaty, sticky palm pressed down on my head, sending chills crawling across my skin.

Here we go again… My stomach churned with nausea. This wasn't the first time, but no matter how many times I begged my parents or teachers for help, nothing changed. Ever since I turned 14 and everyone found out I was wolfless, my family acted like I didn't exist. And the teachers? They just wanted Scott, that bastard, to graduate this year and get the hell out of school. Of course, they wouldn't stir up trouble for my sake…

"The hell are you spacing out for?" Scott suddenly yanked my hair hard. "Need another lesson, huh?"

His breath, reeking of cigarettes, hit my face. I instinctively turned away, clawing at his fist in a futile attempt to break free. "L-Let me go!"

But Scott's strength was overwhelming. His grip was like stone—no matter how hard I struggled, it was useless.

In my panic, my hand accidentally struck his face.

SLAP—

The sharp sound echoed in the bathroom. Scott froze for a second, while my heart skipped a beat.

Shit. SHIT!! I'm dead!!

Sure enough—

"You fucking bitch! How dare you hit me?! A worthless wolfless like you DARES to raise a hand at me?!" Enraged, Scott swung his fist and slammed it into my stomach. A scream tore from my throat as I crumpled to my knees in agony.

"Open your fucking mouth!"

SMACK!!

His palm cracked against my left cheek before his fingers clamped around my jaw, forcing it open. With his other hand, he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his disgusting, ugly dick.

GODDAMMIT!!!

The familiar terror surged through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.

Just one person… Please, someone… Save me…

"Scott! Christina wants you in her office—now!"

A strangely pitched female voice suddenly called from outside the bathroom, as if someone was deliberately altering their tone.

Scott paused. I cracked my eyes open just enough to see hesitation flicker in his beady eyes.

"Scott! Hurry up! She said if you're not there by 3:30, you're repeating the year!"

The moment the voice finished, Scott spat in annoyance. "Fuck! That old hag never quits!" He released me, yanking his pants back up. Before leaving, he shoved me hard to the ground. "Next time, you won't escape, bitch."

Hah… Saved…

The bathroom door creaked open, then shut. The moment Scott's heavy footsteps faded down the hall, I scrambled up on unsteady limbs and bolted from that cramped, stinking prison.

Outside, the world was bright and open. I gulped down deep breaths of fresh air, imagining myself like Tim Robbins—escaping through the tunnel and prison sewage pipe.

"Penelope! Penelope!"

I turned. Mia—my only human friend, the one person who didn't know I was a werewolf—was sprinting toward me.

"Quick, we have to run! If Scott realizes I tricked him, he'll kill us both!" She grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the school gates.

So Mia had been the one who called for Scott. Understanding dawned, and I stared at her retreating back. Mia was tiny—just 5'1"—but she'd saved me countless times over the years, just like today. If there was a Best Friend Award, I'd hand it to her without hesitation.

We ran like madwomen, not stopping until we reached a bus stop. Mia bent over, gasping, her long curly red hair spilling over her face. "David said… David said—" She wheezed, struggling to speak. "If we're late again today, he's docking our pay. Thank God… we made it."

David was the owner and head chef of the diner where Mia and I had worked part-time for two years. After turning 14, my family treated me like garbage. They stopped caring whether I lived or died. I became a parasite in that house—waking up alone, buying my own school lunches, even when my mother cooked dinner, she rarely called me to eat. My step-siblings? They pretended I didn't exist.

At the diner, I rushed to the kitchen while Mia changed into her waitress uniform. Four exhausting hours later, our shift finally ended.

"Here." I handed Mia a sandwich as we trudged down the street, drained.

She took a huge bite, then grimaced. "Ugh, David's sandwiches are still trash! How can someone who cooks steak so well mess up a sandwich this badly?!"

Her exaggerated disgust made me snort. "Well, that's why they're left for us."

Mia shook her head mid-chew, then pointed at a house along the road. Her eyes sparkled as she turned to me. "Penelope, if we save up a little more, we can rent a place together after this break."

"Mia—"

"I'm serious. Move in with me. Your family abuses you. You shouldn't stay there."

"But you don't have to do this for me—" Mia's home was warm and loving, the polar opposite of mine. She had no reason to leave—she just knew I needed to escape.

She waved me off before suddenly darting toward the bus stop—her ride home had arrived.

"See you tomorrow, Penelope!"

"See you!"

After watching her board the bus, I began the walk home. The diner wasn't far—usually a 25-30 minute trip. Of course, if I had a wolf, I'd be there in 10.

But I didn't. All I had was Mia. And for her, I'd give my life.

As I walked, I swallowed the last bite of the awful sandwich, my mind racing about tomorrow—and the future. The only way to leave my pack was to find my mate. If they took me to another pack, maybe I could start over…

But what if I never find them? What if the next pack is just as bad? Is there even hope for me?

Lost in thought, I trudged down the familiar dark path. I'd walked this route countless times over the past two years—I could probably navigate it blindfolded. But just as I stepped deeper into the shadows, a faint, sour stench of sweat tickled my nose.

Wait—

I froze, inhaling sharply. My pulse spiked as dread swallowed me whole.

That disgusting, familiar smell…

Danger.

It's Scott.