Chapter Five

Anderson's POV

 

"I'm sure that's why the principal asked her to follow him to his office," a girl said loudly as soon as my mate stepped out with the principal.

 

"Yeah, you are probably right. He must have heard the news," another girl sitting next to her replied, nodding in agreement.

 

The classroom buzzed to life as the noise grew louder, like a storm brewing as students gathered into clusters.

 

"I knew it! She hasn’t changed. She's still the same murderer she's always been," a girl near the window sneered.

"Who does she think she has been fooling putting up that innocent act?" Another chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain.

"I don't even know why you all are surprised. Once a killer, always a killer," a boy behind me added, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

 

 

"Did you see the video?" a male student sitting in front of me said when Liam, the class president, asked him what was going on, clearly confused.

 

Afterwards, the boy showed Liam a video on his phone.

 

 

My brows furrowed in confusion as I observed the chaos before me because it did not add up. The way they described her made her sound like a villain straight out of a nightmare. Nothing like the kind-hearted woman I saw last night, which was why I went to meet her, aside from the fact that she was my mate.

 

But the comments kept getting worse, their words cutting through the air like daggers, leaving me even more confused.

 

Liam scoffed upon watching the clip. "Are you all seriously condemning her based on a clip that doesn’t even prove anything? Have you forgotten innocent until proven guilty?"

 

"Innocent? That’s rich. She’s guilty, and everyone knows it. You are just blind." The girl who had started the chaos sneered.

 

"The past doesn’t lie. Once a murderer, always a murderer." another added, and almost everyone agreed.

 

Liam snapped, glaring at the nearest group. "You all are so quick to point fingers."

"Did any of you even watch the video properly? That doesn't prove she's the culprit. You are just dragging her because of her past, which you know was not intentional."

 

His defence only caused more chaos.

 

"You are defending her again like always?" Sofia shouted, leaving me even more confused.

 

Wasn’t she, as the vice president of the class, supposed to be calming everyone down instead of fuelling the fire?

 

"How can you still take her side? Maybe you are involved too," a boy accused Liam.

 

Before the argument could spiral further, a boy by the window interrupted.

 

"Everyone, look!" he shouted, pointing outside. "She’s with the cops in the parking lot!"

 

In an instant, most of the class rushed to the windows like moths to a flame, but I stayed seated, watching it all unfold.

 

From their frantic words, I gathered that she was walking between two officers toward a squad car. It was clear they were taking her to the station for questioning.

 

However, my stomach twisted as I tried to figure out what the police might have found to suspect her of being the so-called murderer. Could it have anything to do with the accusations my classmates were throwing around?

 

"See?" Sofia’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

 

She turned to Liam with a cold, hardened look.

 

"You were saying the video doesn’t prove anything?" she challenged, crossing her arms as if daring him to respond.

 

"In case you are clueless because that’s the only explanation for your stupidity, she poured a drink on one of the guy's bodies right before he and his friends were found dead outside the club. What more proof do you need?"

 

That was when it dawned on me that they were talking about last night's incident. I also knew the panther shifters were dead.

 

However, my stomach churned because my mate was being dragged through the mud for something I knew she did not do. I knew she did not kill them, but the students’ conviction—so rooted in their hatred—intrigued me. I needed to know more.

 

The class president stammered but could not muster a proper response.

 

As the crowd by the windows began to thin out, two girls from the group that had earlier given me directions to the principal's office approached, stopping right in front of me.

 

They smiled warmly, their energy completely different from the tense atmosphere around us.

 

"Hey, handsome!" the taller one, with a slender hourglass figure, greeted.

 

"Do you remember us?" the other asked with a wink.

 

"Of course!" I said with a chuckle.

"How could I forget such beautiful faces?" I added, flashing them a wide smile.

 

Their cheeks flushed, and though they tried to hide it, it was no use.

 

"I’m Tasha, and this is Lila. Thought we’d officially introduce ourselves," the taller girl said, smiling.

 

"Yeah, welcome to the madhouse," Lila added with a playful grin.

"Thanks," I said, trying to match their friendly tone.

"I’m Anderson. Oh—" I brushed my hair, with a smile on my lips.

"Yeah, you don't need to do the introduction again," Tasha said.

 

It was obvious they were into me, and honestly, I didn’t mind the idea of having them wrapped around my finger. It was only a matter of time.

 

"So, uh... is it always this crazy in here?" I asked, leaning back in my seat.

 

Tasha chuckled lightly. "Pretty much. You’ll get used to it."

 

"And if you ever need help with anything, you know where to find us," she said, extending her hand toward me with a charming smile.

 

"Or just find me," Lila cut in, her gaze locking onto mine for a second longer than necessary.

 

My eyes lingered on Lila for a moment before I took Tasha's hand, squeezing it gently. She lit up with a radiant smile.

 

But before I could say anything else, shadows loomed over me.

 

Tasha abruptly pulled her hand back, and both she and Lila, panic written all over their faces, hurried back to their seats.

 

Around the room, everyone quickly fell silent, leaving me wondering who had stepped in behind me.

 

"What a disrespectful little brat!" a voice sneered, followed by a sharp slap to the back of my head, hard enough to nearly knock me into my desk.

 

"What a memorable first day here," I thought with a smirk, realising that this was not going to end peacefully.

 

Slowly, I got to my feet, shoving my hands into my pockets, and turned to face the three towering figures behind me.

 

"Is this the part where I’m supposed to be scared and start shaking in fear?" I scoffed, my lips curling in a smirk.

 

"He’s got a lot of nerve," one of them, who seemed to be one of the lackeys, muttered, cracking his knuckles.

 

"Then we’ll see if that mouth of his still works after we teach him a lesson," the one who seemed to be the leader said, with a menacing grin. 

 

 

I met his gaze, certain he was the leader. "Didn’t the teacher say this was a friendly school? You are not really living up to that reputation."

 

The room fell silent as his expression darkened. Without warning, his fist collided with my face, the impact sending a sting through my jaw.

 

I tasted blood as it dripped onto my lip.

 

The room gasped.

 

I faced him, my expression cold. "That’s it? Thought you'd hit harder."

 

His face twisted with rage. "You’ve got a death wish, don’t you?"

 

"Not really," I said, my voice calm despite the fire burning inside me.

"But you're really tempting me to show you what happens when someone picks the wrong fight."

 

Before I could do anything, his lackeys jumped in, shoving me to the floor and pounding me with fists and kicks.

 

Every part of me screamed to fight back, to show them they had messed with the wrong person. But my father's warning to stay out of trouble in order to keep my identity hidden rang in my head, holding me back.

 

"Enough!" someone shouted, but they did not stop.

 

Finally, they backed off on their leader's order, panting and exhausted. I met their gaze, bruised but not broken. The pain meant nothing to me as a lycan.

 

 

"Are you done?" I chuckled.

 

They exchanged glances in shock before the leader sneered. "Big talk for someone on the floor."

 

The lackeys wanted to come at me again, but their leader told them to hold back. Together, they walked out of the class, laughing.

 

As I wiped the blood from my lip, I caught the stunned stares of my classmates.

 

Without saying a word, I rose and also left the classroom.

 

I would let them win this round, but the game was far from over because they had just lit a fire they would not be able to put out.