Chapter Four

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

The threat was anything but subtle. His words inched down my spine like an icy chill. Judge Jackson had a countdown hanging over my head. He was the predator and I was the prey.

I turned around and found Judge Jackson walking in the opposite direction. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his broad back and his perfect posture as he marched down the hallway. 

I came to a halt when I bumped into Supervisor Sarah. 

“Imani, watch where you’re going. You caused enough trouble today to last you a lifetime,” she admonished.

I’m in enough trouble to last three days…

We paused outside of the classroom. “What you did today was very…disappointing and irresponsible. You attracted the wrong kind of attention today,” Supervisor Rachel reprimanded. “This is a difficult time for all of us. I understand how you feel. I was in your shoes decades ago.”

She couldn’t possibly know I felt. She was a Breeder A. She had twelve pups and returned to Eden when her mate died several years ago. 

“Do you think it’s easy for me and Supervisor Sarah to care for you girls since your birth only to–”

“That’s enough, Rachel,” Supervisor Sarah said, trying to calm her partner. She turned to address me. “What Supervisor Rachel is trying to say is that we think of you girls as our daughters and we don’t want to see any harm come to you. Come in. You’ve missed enough of the lesson as it is.”

I followed the two women who pretended to care about us into the classroom.

If they cared so much, then they’d find someway to free us from Eden. 

I was shocked when the classroom was empty except for a male wolf and Ms. Harlow…the strictest, rudest teacher in Eden. 

“Where is everyone at?” Supervisor Rachel questioned. 

“It is lunch time,” Ms. Harlow rudely snapped. I held back my smirk when Supervisor Rachel put her hands on her hips as a response to Ms. Harlow’s bitchiness. It was rumored that the two women were mortal enemies when they were students of Eden in the past. 

I guess the rivalry never resolved, did it?

“Mind your tongue, Ms. Harlow. I am your Supervisor after all.”

Ms. Harlow scoffed, “They give that title to anyone these days.”

“Why did you let the girls go to lunch unattended? That’s against the rules.”

“I am here to teach, not supervise. Last I checked that’s what you get paid the big bucks to do. Come here, Imani. It’s time for you to receive a one-on-one lesson since you chose to skip. I’ll have you caught up by the time the girls return from lunch.”

I looked at Supervisor Rachel and Sarah uneasily. 

“Go on, Imani. Supervisor Sarah and I have to watch over the other girls. We’ll be back soon.”

Before I could protest, the Supervisors left the room. The door clicked behind them softly, leaving me at Ms. Harlow’s mercy. She was never one to shy away from corporal punishment, and I knew I’d pay for missing her class. I already knew what was in store for me–ten lashings to the back of my hand. Skipping classes was considered a Moderate Offense at Eden, punishable by lashings. A Severe Offense was punishable by either lashings or electric shock treatments. I had committed a Severe Offense once and was electrocuted.

I don’t want to go through that ever again. 

“Step up and receive your punishment for skipping class, child,” Ms. Harlow demanded. I complied and held my hands out. I didn’t wince until the third strike of her crop that rapt my knuckles. By the time she reached ten, my knuckles were red, angry, and swollen. I was surprised she didn’t break the skin. 

“What do you have to say for yourself, Imani?” Ms. Harlow asked after she finished beating me. 

“I apologize for skipping class, Ms. Harlow,” I replied, wiping away a stray tear. 

“We can begin our lesson now that’s out of the way. Today’s lesson is about seducing a man.”

Why do we have to learn how to seduce a man if it’s our duty to procreate? Seduction or not, we’ll still be taken and forced to be mothers. His appeal and pleasure doesn’t matter…or at least…it shouldn’t matter. Especially when our pleasure isn’t taken into consideration.

I spent the next ten minutes barely listening to her teaching me how to be seductive. She discussed flattery–how to make a man feel desirable, strong, and attractive with my words.

“Don’t do that,” she ordered.

“Don’t do what?” I asked, confused by what I could possibly be doing wrong. 

“Stare like that. You have this blank look on your face like nothing is going on upstairs.”

Again…why does what I think matter? I don’t need to think to lay there.

“This will not attract men during The Choosing.”

Ah…The Choosing. When Breeders are put on the auction block. Too bad I’ll never make it. 

“I can tell from the look on your face that you’re ignorant to the fact that it is the woman who is actually doing the choosing.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You have the power to influence a man to choose you. Who will a man most likely choose? A Breeder who looks like a dead fish or one that might be a little challenging? Smirk at him, appraise him up and down with your eyes–make him feel wanted. Can you do that?”

“I-I think I can.”

“Good. We’ll put what I taught you to use. Follow me.”

I followed behind Ms. Harlow into a separate room that replicated a bedroom, including a large four poster bed. I jumped when I felt the man crowd my space. I shot him a look of disgust before putting distance between us. Although I moved away, his eyes never left me. They felt predatory, just like Judge Jackson. I shook my head and tried to think of anything but the dangerous Judge. 

“Ow!” I hissed when Ms. Harlow whacked me on the back of my hand again. 

“Pay attention!” Ms. Harlow growled.

“I am paying attention,” I lied. 

“Oh, were you? Repeat what I said.” I chewed my bottom lip, refusing to respond. “That’s what I thought. You will have points deducted from your score,” she informed, typing on her tablet. “Push him onto the bed.”

“What?” I asked in disbelief. Ms. Harlow sighed.

“Our lesson is still on seduction. Slowly push him onto the bed and kiss him until he’s aroused.” I stared at her as if she had two heads. “Don’t keep us waiting, Imani. I’d hate to issue a Severe Offense.”

The reminder of my body seizing from electricity pushed me into action; however, I accidentally shoved him with more strength than I anticipated, sending him flying onto the bed.

“Oops,” I said sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. I like it rough sometimes,” he taunted. 

“This is ridiculous,” Ms. Harlow chuckled before whacking me with her crop on the leg. I hissed and fell on top of him in pain. His hands immediately went to my waist and I tried to pull away again, but that resulted in Ms. Harlow whipping my back, making it arch from the pain. “Make him want you, Imani.”

I glared at the man beneath me and the longer I stared at him, the more undesirable he became. Compared to Judge Jackson, the man was ugly with his patchy beard and his crooked nose that may have become permanently disfigured from a fight. He smelled disgusting. He smelled so foul that I had to swallow to keep myself from throwing up. 

This would be so much easier if he looked like Judge Jackson! Stop thinking about him, Imani. He’s dangerous! The quicker you can “make him want you” the quicker you can leave.

Gathering my last bit of confidence, I stroked his neck until I reached the buttons of his shirt. I unbuttoned three of them and lowered my lips inches away from his Adam’s apple. I blew on it lightly and felt him harden beneath. I rolled my eyes.

That was too easy.

“Good job, Imani,” Ms. Harlow praised. Her unexpected praise shocked me. Ms. Harlow rarely gave out compliments. My attention was brought back to the man when he hugged my waist and brought me close to his face. I started freaking out when his free hand eagerly tugged at my clothes. 

I didn’t know this was part of the class! Isn’t Ms. Harlow going to stop him?”

I searched for Ms. Harlow and expected her to save me, but instead, she smiled in satisfaction.

This is an inhumane class!

His hand slipped underneath my dress and stopped at my underwear. It was evident more and more that the more I struggled, the more he was turned on. 

“Stop! Stop it!” I yelled. 

A gunshot rang out, striking the man in his hand. My eyes widened when another shot was fired. Blood ran down from the missing chunk of my attacker’s head.. I looked in the direction of the bullet. There stood Judge Jackson, holding the smoking gun.