Chapter 48

Prue

"Yo, Silverstone boy!"

I shouted down the hallway, the sound ricocheting off the lockers and forcing a dozen heads to swivel – first toward me, then toward the Alpha boy. Anything to get a rise out of him; whatever truce we’d stumbled into yesterday meant absolutely nothing today. He didn't even flinch. He stopped walking, turning with the lazy, deliberate grace of a guy who had all the time in the world. He settled against the lockers, his expression smooth and infuriatingly amused.

Oh, look. Mr. Lousiness is having a moment. Does he ever get tired of being so smug? I mocked in my own head.He was utterly insufferable this morning, a walking, breathing provocation that seemed intent on dismantling my sanity one unwanted contact at a time. He’d touched me so many times that my brain felt like absolute mush for the entire first period. I couldn’t find a second of peace or focus; every lesson was just a loop of his hands on my skin. Why does it feel like I’m losing this battle?

"I have a name, Prudence Whitemore."

God, I hate my name. It’s a target painted in neon lights, so easily teased. I’m honestly surprised I haven't become the school's punching bag, but then again, I did break a nose or two at my first two schools. After that, I think they just felt it in my aura – a silent promise that if they dared to open their mouth about my lovely, delicate name, they wouldn't be walking away with their teeth intact.

I rolled my eyes and stifled a yawn. I was exhausted today. I really shouldn't have been scrolling through stupid reels until 2 a.m. – what a monumental waste of time. There was this old song playing on a loop in my head by Default; it didn’t fit the situation, but now it was stuck there, lodged in my brain like a splinter. I was deviating, I knew, especially since the Alpha boy was still smirking at me like I was his favorite form of entertainment.

"What time are you taking me home today?" I teased, intentionally pitching my voice loud enough for the gossips in the hall to hear. A sudden "Oohh" went around the hall. Wait – what? No! No, that came out wrong. My cheeks flushed. Ugh, gross. I’m not dating him, nor am I sleeping with him. I wanted it to sound like he was my glorified chauffeur, my servant boy, but it had come out sounding... slutty. I frowned at the crowd, turned on my heels, and headed in the opposite direction. Anywhere was better than here. People were looking at me with those strange, judging expressions, and I hated it.

I heard footsteps behind me – a light jog. Kids rushing? No. The smell.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around with enough force that I collided with his hard chest with a dull thump. What is his–?

"You ask a question and don't even wait for a reply?" He sneered, though his eyes were dancing with that maddening, playful light."What is wrong with you?"

My breath hitched. The proximity was a physical blow – the sheer, radiating heat of him, the way my skin seemed to spark and sizzle in his orbit, the maddening, intoxicating scent of pine needles and campfire. I stared at his lips, taking in the small, glistening beads of sweat on his upper lip. If I leaned in... would they taste like salt? Oh, Goddess, no. Stupid ideas. Stupid, traitorous PMS. Stupid, inconvenient bond. It's all so stupid!

"I changed my mind," I sneered, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I’ll pass by my dad’s place. You can meet me there at night, chauffeur."

I smirked, hoping the gossip-mongers would catch that jab. He just chuckled, his jaw tightening slightly – not in anger, but in a challenge.

"See you!" I chirped, mocking him.

He lightly shoved me away and walked off down the hall with a jaunty, confident stride. Phew. That was too close. For the love of everything holy, this stupid bond was going to be the end of me – my self-respect, my dignity, my integrity, everything. Why the hell was it so strong? I hate it. I tried to shake the sensation off, along with all the messy, dirty ideas that had just scrambled my brain, but my thoughts were spiraling. I was so tangled in the web of my own spiraling misery that I didn't even hear him circle back; suddenly, Andrew was just there, blocking my path like an unwanted glitch.

"What the heck?" I yelped. "Didn't you just leave?"

He didn't answer. He grabbed my upper arms, pulling me into him until I was pressed flat against that hot, hard, infuriatingly muscular frame. I frowned, leaning back as far as I could, but he was right there, breathing hard, his intensity drowning out the rest of the hallway. What is going on?

"Anything else, missy? Anything else I can serve you, perhaps?" He asked, his sarcasm dripping with a wicked, dangerous undertone.

"Get your stinky paws off me," I barked, praying I sounded tough and not like a squeaky, helpless chick. I could hold my own. I could. Or at least, I thought I could, right up until the mate bond threw a wrench in everything. Goddess, help me, or I’m changing gods.

"No can do." He stated it coolly, pursing his lips. My eyes flickered to them – so thick, so lickable. Fuu.ck! His expression shifted into a smirk, and I snapped my gaze back up to his eyes. No, I did not just think that.

I pressed my hands against his thighs, right near his hips, pushing him back. He looked down surprised, a flicker of genuine alarm crossing his face.

"You let go of me, or I’m releasing my claws on three," I said, my voice calm, lethal, and practiced. "Two..."

I was good at threatening people. It was a mandatory life skill if you wanted to survive the social meat grinder of public school.

Andrew released me instantly, taking a half-step back, his gaze flickering down to my hands and then – in a move that made my blood run hot – his eyes dipped to his crotch.

"Yeah, be scared, you little mouse," I mocked, parroting his words back at him. He stared deep into my eyes, his own eyes darkening.

"Psycho," he barked, before spinning 180 degrees and stomping down the hall – for real, this time.

I didn't let him out of my sight until he rounded the corner, and even then, I waited, half-expecting him to come rushing back to – I don't know – kiss me roughly against the lockers while picking me up by my ass? A shiver, unwelcome and electric, raced down my spine. That would be hot and sexy. Fu.ck! Shut up, you stupid bi.tch! He is a loser not a kissable person.

What is happening to me? He is getting under my skin, and I don't allow anyone to do that. They are just background noise, nuisances in my life. He’s been touching me constantly since yesterday, and my brain is failing to categorize it as 'gross' or 'annoying.' I find him attractive, and I’m not even ovulating, so I can’t blame the hormones. It’s just the stupid, cursed bond. Without it, I would never, ever fall for an uneducated douche like him.

Okay, maybe he was educated. He did say he reads books. I’d actually looked up that book he mentioned – Battlefield of the Gods. It was massive, over seven hundred pages of heavy and complicated shit. At least, that's what I gathered from the few pages on an online library. Bless the 21st century – I didn't even have to go to a physical library anymore; I could hoard knowledge from the comfort of my own bed.

This whole situation sucked. I wanted a sleepover at my dad's, but knowing him, he’d never agree to it. I’d been pushed into this lion's den just to "get to know the golden boy," I thought sarcastically. My imagination betrayed me, conjuring an image of him – shirtless, dusted in gold, breathing hard like a gladiator after a victorious fight. Brother, ugh.

In my head, I threw a heavy garbage bin at him just as he jumped in shock. Much better. I shook my head, trying to clear the mental clutter. Think about homework. Think about anything else.

I turned in the opposite direction, descending the stairs toward my locker. Lately, every single one of my thoughts has been orbiting the Alpha. It isn’t healthy. Besides, what you water, grows. That’s why I’m becoming so obsessed with him – and his lips. Ugh, shut up. No, not anymore. I’m going to ignore him starting today. Yes.

While I’ve been wasting my time on this douche, I’ve neglected my other little projects: Tessa and Tom. They deserve my attention, too, and they could use a nudge toward a better future. I smiled to myself. That is the plan for tonight and the rest of the semester: focus on the important things and ignore the nonsense. I nodded, but my gut churned as if I were suddenly nauseous.

The Principal was walking down the hall, and when he spotted me, his face bloomed into a beaming, sunny smile. I frowned inwardly, forcing a tight, fake little smile onto my face. When a principal smiles at you, it is a sign of doom.

"Ah, Miss Whitemore! Exactly the person I needed to meet." He stopped in front of me, radiating unnatural cheer. "You probably thought we’d forgotten about your volunteer work with Mr. Silverstone. Not at all. At last, we have the perfect project for you two."

He didn't wait for a reply. "I'll find Andrew to inform him, but remember: I need you at my office today after school. A teacher will pick you up from there and take you to where help is needed first. Okay? Any questions?"

He beamed, waiting for my reply. Fuck my life.

I shook my head, unable to choke out a single word. How did I not see this coming? My life is going down the drain by the hour – no, by the minute. Does Nature really think so little of me that she has to punish me this harshly?

"Okay then, off you go!" He chirped, breezing right past me.

All my life, I’ve just been a naughty girl with plenty of jokes up my sleeve, but I’ve always been fun. I was never evil. So why does this bond feels like a punishment? Before I started another round of self-pitty, I spotted Tessa leaning against a window, staring at the outside world. Yes, that was the distraction I trully needed.