CHAPTER 3: THE BULLIES

Ryder’s POV

“HEY, FATSO DICKS! HOLD UP!”

The voices rang out behind us—unmistakably the Draven twins.

“Just perfect,” Chester groaned, throwing his arms up in exaggerated despair. “Now we get to start our morning with a black eye.”

“Run!” I hissed, grabbing his sleeve as we pushed through the morning crowd like bowling balls crashing into pins. We ducked and weaved our way toward the classroom, narrowly escaping two martial arts-obsessed thugs.

We skidded into our seats just as the bell rang.

“Phew!” Chester exhaled. “You’re a lifesaver. That would’ve been a karate chop breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t celebrate too soon,” I muttered, eyes widening as the Draven twins stomped into the classroom. “They’re headed straight for us.”

Sure enough, both of them sauntered over like vultures spotting roadkill. One grabbed my collar, the other went for Chester.

“Seems like the Fatso Dicks can’t hear so well,” one of them sneered. “Maybe we should knock some sense into those ears.”

Before we could react, they slammed us against the classroom wall. My nose crunched, pain exploding in my face.

We slid to the floor, dazed and bloody.

Just then, the teacher walked in. Everyone scampered to their seats like innocent little lambs, pretending nothing had happened.

I dabbed the blood from my nose as Chester winced beside me. A few classmates snickered. Others just shot us cold glares.

Suddenly, the loudspeakers crackled to life.

“THE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO HOLD A MARTIAL ARTS COMPETITON FOR ALL FINAL YEAR STUDENTS AND A COUPLE DANCE COMPETITON TOO. PARTICIPATION IN ANY ONE OR BOTH IS COMPULSORY SO MAKE SURE TO GIVE YOUR NAMES BY THE END OF THE DAY”

The announcement repeated twice more, then silence fell across the room—only to be broken by a sudden flurry of whispers and excitement.

“ATTENTION, CLASS!” our professor barked, silencing the chatter with a single glare.

The lesson began, and we sank into the mystical depths of Quantum Physics, which, frankly, was more comforting than reality.

When the bell finally rang for lunch, Chester whispered, “Let’s go register before anyone stops us.”

“Have you decided which one to join?” I asked.

He looked at me like I’d grown another head. “Obviously both! It’s not like we have social reputations to protect.”

I paused. “Do they allow two guys to enter the couple dance?”

He shrugged. “Does it look like I care? Let’s just go.”

We dashed off and successfully submitted our names—Chester and I, a duo for both competitions. Thankfully, no one caught us en route to beat us up for daring to exist.

Later, we tiptoed toward the cafeteria, only to freeze.

“Cafeteria’s infested with danger,” I murmured. “They're waiting in the washroom.”

“Detour?” Chester suggested.

“Detour,” I agreed.

We made it to the cafeteria… only for our luck to run out.

“Well, well,” the Draven twins drawled as they blocked our path near the counter. “Thought you could dodge us?”

“We just came here to eat,” I said calmly, pushing past with Chester in tow.

But they followed us. I quickly mindlinked Chester.

Pretend to tie your shoe.

We bent down. Fists whizzed over our heads and struck the counter behind us with a crack.

Students laughed. The twins fumed.

Without warning, they grabbed our collars and threw us right into the same spot their fists had missed.

“Don’t act clever,” one snapped, jabbing a finger in my face.

“Why don’t you two go punch a wall and leave us alone?” Chester snapped back.

Bad idea.

They took a threatening step forward.

“You think this is us showing off?” they sneered.

“What else would you call it?” Chester said, his tone mocking.

This boy will never learn. He taunts them like it’s a game, only to land himself in trouble.

“This isn’t even the ‘K’ in Karate,” they laughed. “We’ll show you in the competition.”

Chester suddenly stood tall. “Let’s make a deal. No more fights before the competition. Whichever team gets knocked out first is branded the loser—and the winners get to call the shots.”

My eyes widened. Why is he challenging them?!

The cafeteria went silent.

“And why would we agree to that nonsense?” one twin scoffed.

See? Told you.

Chester smirked. “Because maybe you’re scared we might actually win.”

Oh no.

The response came in the form of a solid punch that knocked Chester flat. He lay sprawled, groaning, a trickle of blood escaping his mouth.

“Keep dreaming,” one of them sneered before walking away.

I dragged Chester to the washroom and helped him clean up.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking utterly defeated.

“It’s okay. You stood up for us,” I said softly, pulling him into a hug.

“I think I’ll go home this weekend,” he mumbled. “It’s my 19th birthday. My parents and siblings are expecting me at the pack house.”

“Same,” I said. “My family’s throwing something too.”

Chester’s eyes lit up. “You know what this means, right? Your mate! Aunt Nyssa said you’d meet them after you turn 19!”

“Shh!” I slapped a hand over his mouth and looked around. “Don’t talk about that here!”

He just grinned. “Oops. Got excited.”

We managed to survive the rest of the day in peace. Most students were too busy preparing for the competitions, and from what we heard, the infamous “Dark Gang” had their own big celebration coming up.

Apparently, their leader—San Draven—was turning 18 this weekend.

Same weekend as my birthday.

Their Alpha crowning was the talk of the campus. San was already feared. Now, she was about to be revered.

I sighed. Part of me wished my pack lived closer to the university. But another part… was kind of grateful for the distance.