Chapter 2 - Freya’s POV

They must have seen me staring, because they walked right up to my desk. 

"Hey, it's the scholarship kid," Vivian said. "Love your jacket. Let me guess, it's from the discount mall spring collection, am I right?" 

Her sidekick’s shrill laugh echoed through the room. 

Let's bite them, Ashe suggested. 

We can't do that, they'd taste foul. Salty and bitter. However, there are other ways…

I looked the queen bee dead in the eye. "At least I earned my place here," I said. "You're coasting on your family name. You don't have the intelligence or discipline to make it on your own. And I bought this outfit with my own money. You got yours with Daddy's credit card." 

Vivian's mouth hung open. People simply didn't talk to her like that.  

I took advantage of the processing delay. "And that's not even enough for you." I pointed. "You're wearing my bracelet!" 

Her brain finally came back online. "What?!" she spluttered. 

"I know it's mine," I said. "It's one of a kind, and I had it on when you ran into me this morning. That's when you grabbed it, you little thief!" 

"You think I'd steal from you? My pajamas cost more than your entire wardrobe!" She was catching up. 

“Give me my bracelet back,” I said.

“It’s not your bracelet!”  

It's an ugly bracelet, Ashe muttered. From smells-bad boy. Why do you like him anyway.

Even when feeling grumpy and uncooperative, Ashe was fast. We were fast, and my hand blurred as I snatched the bracelet from Vivian. I snapped it back onto my wrist, where it belonged. 

The other students gasped. They were all gathered around us, watching the drama avidly. I was sure if anyone had popcorn, they would have been eating it. 

"You—" Vivian gasped. "You give that back!"

She really wasn't very bright. "No." I said. 

Sienna growled, reaching for me. Vivian's eyes were shifting amber, wolf's eyes.

"Good morning, Professor," I said, looking at the door.

I heard a snort from behind me. It was one of the other students, laughing at the Campus Queen's humiliation. 

Vivian flushed red. "Just you wait, you bitch," she snarled. "You'd better watch your back." 

"You're sweating a little, just on your upper lip. Here…" I dabbed my mouth to show her, my hand hiding my smile. 

The rest of the morning went well enough. Even coming late, the coursework wasn't a problem. In fact, the professor seemed glad to have me in his class. If Vivian and her friends were typical of the students he had to deal with, I could see why.

***

I was packing up after lunch, lost in high school memories, when I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

Heads up, Ashe warned me. 

Vivian and her sidekick had picked up a couple of male hangers-on. They were swollen with gym-grown muscle and probably thought they were tough, but I could tell they'd never taken a serious punch in their lives. At best they attended martial arts classes with sparring partners who weren't allowed to actually hurt them. 

“Hey,” Vivian said. “New kid. How are you doing?”

“Fine,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “You should come with us. We have something to show you.”

I looked around. The other students were paying very close attention to their food or their friends. No help there. 

“Okay,” I said. What was the worst they could do?

As soon as we left the cafeteria, they grabbed me and dragged me into an empty room, shutting the door. 

“What the hell?” I tried to struggle but there were too many of them.

The goons-in-training threw me to the floor but I rolled upright. The floor is the last place you want to be in a fight, especially four against one. Unfortunately, they were between me and the door.   

Vivian's amber eyes were practically glowing. These were the kind of odds she liked. 

"I swear, you scholarship kids," she said. "You think you're so smart, but you don't belong here. It's not just about grades, you peon. It's about breeding!" She smiled, showing sharp, white teeth. 

She kicked my bag, which I'd left lying on the floor. "Look at this pathetic piece of shit," she said. "You can't even afford a decent book bag, and you think you can make it at Lykaon Academy!" 

She was right. The bag was old. 

In junior year in high school my best friend and I had exchanged bags. For luck, we said. It had always seemed to work… until recently. I treasured that bag, sewing patches on it as bits wore out. Kyra was one of my favorite people, and that bag held precious memories of late nights laughing and studying and watching anime together. 

"I bet I can tear it apart with my bare hands!" Laughing, one of the guys picked it up and pulled at the straps. 

"Yeah, it'll fall apart under pressure, just like that first kid," Vivian sneered. "She couldn't handle it and ended up killing herself after just a month." 

"What." I could barely speak. Sweet, gentle Kyra, who had always been there for me. There had been a lot of friendly rivalry between us, but I'd give anything not to be taking her place now. The investigator had said her death was an accident. It sounded like there was more to the story. 

The guy holding Kyra's bag grunted. Apparently he was having a harder time tearing it apart than he'd thought. 

"Give that back." I could feel my eyes shifting to the wolf's ice-blue as a low, continuous growl thrummed through my body. He ignored me as I lunged at him, grabbing my bag. There was a pop as his finger dislocated and a scream as he doubled over, holding his injured hand.

Then his friend hit me across the face, knocking me to the floor. They closed in and I curled up around my bag. Someone kicked me in the back and Ashe came to the forefront, preparing to defend me. 

It looked like I was in serious trouble.

"Why are you fighting in here?" said a cool, male voice from the doorway. He sounded about my age, but with a whip-crack of authority you don't often hear from teenage boys.

Everyone froze. 

"Honey," Vivian said. "I was just trying to teach her a lesson. Did you hear what she said about me in Professor McClintock's class? She embarrassed me in front of everyone!" 

I cautiously uncurled. A guy was silhouetted in the doorway. He was built, too.

I’d only been at Lykaon a day, but I recognized him immediately. Michael Stirling. The heir of Stormwind pack, the youngest and strongest of the future alphas. News reports often held him up as someone to watch.  

He was tall and golden-skinned. Dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie that clung to his broad shoulders. Thick black hair fell onto his forehead, framing a pair of dark blue eyes full of laser-like intensity. 

Those eyes were currently fixed on Vivian, who was posing prettily, breasts held up before her like fruit on a tray. 

He was having none of it. "Take your people and leave," he said.

"But honey…" She took a step closer, trying to slip an arm around his waist.

He shook her off. "Go," he said. 

"Fine." She pouted and flounced off, groupies following silently. 

He walked over and looked down at me. "You too," he said. "Get your stuff and leave." 

His eyes were a deep blue. 

I must be more injured than I thought, because that blue seemed to fill the room as it swirled around me. 

Or maybe it wasn't just me. He was staring too, eyes wide with shock.

Mate!!! My wolf screamed inside me.