Chapter 5: Cornered

Aurora’s POV

I dressed for school the way I used to in Vancouver when I wanted to disappear. je

Jeans, a plain grey sweater, my hair pulled back. Nothing anyone could comment on.

The bottle of pills went into my bag. I had just three left. I zipped the pocket twice.

The smell of eggs and toast drifted up the staircase before I reached the kitchen.

My mother stood at the stove with her back to me, making breakfast. 

“Good morning,” she said softly.

I took an apple from the bowl and said nothing.

“Aurora, I made enough for…”

I walked past her and poured myself a juice, clearly not wanting to talk to her. 

She waited for me to talk to her. 

Slowly, her shoulders dropped, and she turned back to the stove without another word. The spatula scraped the pan as though she’d forgotten what she was doing.

I told myself I didn’t feel guilty.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs, and Lucas swung into the kitchen, hair damp, shirt half-buttoned. He looked at my mother’s back, then at me, then at the untouched plate she’d set at my place.

“Morning, Elena.” He stole a piece of toast from the stack. This looks incredible.”

“Sit, sweetheart,” she said, her voice almost steady. “There’s plenty.”

“Can’t. I’m driving the Canadian to class.” He glanced at me. “Ready?”

I looked at the empty chair at the end of the table, where Logan’s place had already been cleared. He’d left before sunrise. Of course he had.

“Ready,” I said.

At the door, I felt my mother watching me. I didn’t turn around.

“You know you’re allowed to have breakfast,” Lucas said, as we pulled out of the driveway. “Even when you’re angry. Especially when you’re angry.”

“I am not hungry.”

“You’ve got an apple in your hand.”

“Then I’m having breakfast.”

He sighed. “Look, I’m not asking what happened. I’m just saying that living in a house where two people aren’t speaking is awful for everyone else.”

I almost smiled. “That’s your version of comfort?”

“It’s my version of a threat. Fix it soon.” He drummed the steering wheel. “I mean it nicely.”

When we reached the campus lot, he parked and tapped the wheel twice. “If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell me. Family looks out for family.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He grinned like he didn’t believe me. The moment I crossed the quad, I felt heads turn in my direction. 

Conversations stopped.

That’s her. The Alpha’s daughter. She came in with Lucas, so it must be true. 

I kept my chin up and counted my steps to the lecture hall.

Inside, I chose a seat near the middle. In front of me sat a quiet girl with bangs hanging over her eyes, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to take up less space. She was the only person in the room who didn’t stare.

I knew that posture. I had worn it for nineteen years.

I stayed behind her for the whole lecture, and somehow it made breathing easier.

When class ended, a shadow fell across my desk.

“Well, well.” The voice was sweet and sharp at once. “If it isn’t the Alpha’s daughter.”

Bianca stood at the end of the row with two girls behind her, with their arms folded, smiling like the Grinch. She was tall, dark-haired, and clearly someone the other wolves stepped around.

I met her eyes and said nothing. “So Lucas actually dropped you off.” She tilted her head. “In his car. In front of everyone.”

“What do you want?”

“Just a little talk.”

The girls walked to either side of me. They dragged me out of the class to the back of the school. Nobody said anything as we walked past.

Bianca shoved me against the brick.

“My friends saw you having dinner with Lucas last night.”Her smile slipped. “Even if he’s your stepbrother, what gives you the right? You’ve been here a week, and you’re already sleeping under their roof, eating at their table, strolling around like you own the place.”

“Please,” I said. “Just leave me alone.”

My bag was clutched to my side, my fingers locked around the strap. All I wanted was to run. But there were three of them, and I could barely feel my wolf beneath the fear.

One of the girls looked down. “What’s that?”

Before I could move, she yanked the bag open and pulled out the little bottle.

“Give that back!”

Bianca took it and held it up between two fingers, rattling it. Her eyes lit up.

“What is this? Pills?” She laughed. “Are you a junkie? Does the Alpha know his daughter is on drugs?”

“It’s not…” My voice cracked. “Please. You don’t understand. Just give it back.”

I reached for it, and she lifted it higher, laughing. 

I was begging, actually begging, and I hated every second. Without those pills, the fever and the silver in my eyes and the ache beneath my ribs would come back. Without them, everyone would see what I was.

Tears blurred my vision. “Please.”

Then the laughter stopped.

The air changed. Every hair on my arms stood up. A low growl rolled across the courtyard, so deep I felt it in my bones, and the three girls went still.

Logan stood at the end of the passage, his eyes burning gold.

He crossed the distance in three strides. Bianca opened her mouth, and he knocked her hand aside so hard the bottle flew out of her grip. 

She slammed into the brick wall and slid down, a thin line of blood at her hairline.

The bottle hit the ground and rolled to my feet. I snatched it up with shaking fingers.

When I looked up, Logan was staring at me.

I saw everything cross his face at once. Anger. Something that looked like worry. Something I didn’t want to name.

And I knew what he had seen. 

He had seen me, begging. Me, weak. Me, a girl who needed pills to be normal, standing in front of the one person who hated that she was different.

He had saved me, and I had never been so ashamed.

My face crumpled. Tears spilled over, and I shoved past him, past the girls, past everything, and I ran.