Chapter 3 -"Mine." -03

"I don't know. Why?" I shrug for the sake of humoring her, not really curious since she has a tendency to believe in gossip and exaggerate things. You never take Nora's words seriously if it concerns an actual person. It most likely will end up being some twisted version of 'he said, she said', and also highly untrue.

She turns her head right and left as if to check if someone is overhearing our conversation. Now, that's something she never does. She usually rambles on and on about whatever she heard and doesn't care what the world thinks about her, and this strange action succeeds in piquing my curiosity slightly to hear what's she's about to say.

She then leans close, cupping a hand around her mouth. "Rumour has it that she killed singlehandedly the twenty rogues that attacked her pack the day she took control. Apparently, they thought that since she's a girl she would be weak and that they could defeat her easily. It is said that she was in such a fury, that she just went on a rampage, killing everything in her path." She glances around once again. "She kills without a second thought." She adds in a whisper, her voice barely being picked up by my weakened senses. A shiver rolls down my spine at hearing the last part, raising gooseflesh all over my body, despite my suspicions that the story might be hugely fictional.

"Oh," I say meekly, not knowing whether or not to take her word that a killer is studying among us. For some twisted reason, something in me dislikes the prospect of calling her 'killer'.

Must be the over exhaustion and lack of sleep.

"Stay clear of her, Mike. You suffer enough already with one Alpha. Who knows what she'll do if she sets her sights on you. Predators like them prey of people like us," Nora lectures, earning a small nod from me. I feel like I should stop her from assuming and saying such things about a girl she has never met in her entire life. Who are you to judge a person you've never met? I want to challenge. But another part, the submissive and scared part who's been tormented by Chance all his life, wants to run for the hills to protect myself.

What's wrong with me?

"Hello! Earth to Micajah! Are you there?" Nora calls out, pulling me out of my conflicting thoughts. I jerk back to reality and give her a sheepish nod, which in turn makes her mock-glare at me.

"I said, 'I'm going to the library to pick up a book. I will see you at the cafeteria'," She repeats, pronouncing each word slowly as if she was speaking to a person who can barely understand English, mocking me further.

"Okay! Okay! I got it!" I roll my eyes.

"Alrighty then! 'Bye!" She waves and sprints off, not waiting to hear my reply. Such a hyperactive person she is, I think, shaking my head in amusement.

I walk to my locker with a small smile on my face, but it fades the second I see the people standing beside it. Or more accurately, beside Chance Parker's —my bully extraordinaire who also happens to be the son of my pack's Alpha— which is conveniently next to mine, thanks to our last names.

I hesitate for a second, contemplating my options before concluding that interrupting them and becoming subject to their beating is not worth keeping my books in my locker. I turn around to leave, but much to my dismay, one of them had spotted me.

"Hey, nerd!" I freeze, thinking whether I should make a run for it. But then again, they are jocks and warriors and they'll catch me anyway. So I stop and I turn around slowly, my head hung low to avoid the acidic looks they're no doubt giving me.

"You're here at the right time," I hear Chance say, and the sounds of his footsteps follow before his shoes come into my line of vision. I stand there mutely, knowing that saying something would just add fuel to their bullying as they would twist my own words around and use them against me.

"So. What do you think of the new student Seneca?" He interrogates, his voice sounding eerily calm and sending me into a panic. Chance Parker is never calm.

"I-I haven't s-seen h-her yet," I mumble, making him laugh out loud. Honestly, I don't know what the joke here is.

"Well, she's a bitch." He declares and out of nowhere, his fist swings out, crashing with my gut brutally. The force knocks the wind out of my lungs, and the impact makes me lose equilibrium and crash to the ground.

I moan in agony, clutching my stomach as the group of six moves from their position against the lockers, to form a loose circle around me. I push myself up with my elbows and make a move to get up, but one shoe connects with my right thigh hard, probably bruising the bone.

"Ah!" I shout in pain, as my whole leg feels like someone set fire to it. I clutch my hand to it and shout out when another blow is landed on my other leg, making tears of pain gather in the corner of my eyes.

"You worthless piece of shit," He growls menacingly, his muddy brown eyes set in a hard glare aimed at me. I open my eyes with Herculean effort and flinch when I see Chance pulling back his fist, raising my arms in defense. But to my utter surprise, the blow never comes.

Instead, a loud 'crunch' resonates through the hallway, surprising me along with everyone else. I tentatively open my eyes once again, peeking from behind raised arms from my lying position. What — or more correctly who I see takes my breath away, every fiber of my being stirring at the incandescent sight.

There, standing there like an avenging angel over the groaning body of Chance on the floor is a girl. But 'girl' would be too simple of a word to describe her. Her red hair flows down in luscious curls, framing her heart-shaped face, which is set in a furious scowl. But her scowl, unlike the other girls', doesn't give her a kitten look. Instead, it is the definition of deadly, with the hardness in her eyes and her dark brows pushing down adding effect.

Her feline eyes are a stormy grey, the electricity in them, static. Her sharp, straight nose accenting her full pink lips that are shaped like a cupid's bow with such perfection, giving her an otherworldly look. No, the person before me is not a girl. She's a Goddess.

The jocks bow their heads in submission, murmurs of "Alpha," passing around the group. My Wolf gets agitated and keeps on saying something but I ignore his persistent calls, fixing my entire focus on her, as my fogged brain is not able to register anything except the exotic beauty standing before me.

Her steel-grey eyes, change their focus from Chance and roam around the circle in one swift movement before they settle on me, darkening, yet instantly softening at the same time.

Finally, her pink lips part to let one word escape them, the one word that changes my life.

"Mine,"