Chapter 4: Fuck Off

Callie took her usual spot in the lecture hall, her personal sanctuary tucked a few seats away from Amira and Alex. Far enough to spare herself their whispered love talk, close enough to hear Amira if she suddenly went on one of her rants. 

The moment she sat, she let out a sigh and dropped her head onto the desk with a dull thud. Her bones ached; her mind felt heavier than her body. All she wanted was five quiet minutes.

But the universe, of course, had other plans.

Barely a second after her forehead touched the desk, the room exploded into excited squeaks and gasps. Callie’s brows twitched. She didn’t lift her head just yet. Maybe if she ignored it, it would pass.

Sadly, she wasn’t that lucky.

“Callie! CALLIE!” Amira’s squeal pierced her ear.

Groaning, Callie lifted her head and squinted at her friend. “What the hell is going on?”

Amira practically bounced in her seat. “That’s him! The new guy everyone’s talking about!”

Callie turned toward the entrance. And when her eyes landed on him, her stomach dropped.

“No way,” she muttered. “That’s the guy from the store.”

Striding into the hall like freaking god, head held high and expression bored. He was the last person she wanted to see… the rude, annoying asshole from the tool store. 

Amira gasped beside her. “No way! That’s the same guy?”

Callie gave her a deadpan look. “Yes, way.”

“Well… maybe he was just in a bad mood then?”

Callie gave her a look that screamed disappointment. “Of course you’d defend a hot stranger over your best friend. Amazing.” She shoved Amira’s shoulder lightly.

Amira only laughed and scampered back to Alex, who looked equally thrilled about the newcomer.

Callie exhaled sharply and let her head fall back onto the desk. She had zero energy to spare for whatever chaos this dude was going to bring here. Let the rest of the hall lose their minds over him. 

She shut her eyes, welcoming the temporary darkness behind her lids.

But then.. the hall turned completely silent.

Callie’s brows knit together.

What is it now?

She slowly lifted her head, frowning as she looked around. Everyone was staring. At her.

For a moment, Callie’s breath paused but as she followed the trail of their wide eyes and slack jaws, she realized… no. They weren’t staring at her.

They were staring at something behind her.

Her spine stiffened.

Slowly, cautiously, she turned her head.

Sitting right behind her, leaning close enough for his shadow to loom over her desk, was him. The rude tool store guy. Only now, his golden-brown eyes weren’t filled with detached indifference… they were locked directly on her, intense and unwavering.

Callie’s heart skipped in her chest before catching pace again, thudding like a warning drum. She jolted upright in her seat.

“What?” she asked, obviously confused. “What do you want?”

He didn’t move.

Damon raised a brow, his expression remained nonchalant but cool.

“An apology.” he said smoothly, his deep voice slicing through the hall with a vibration. 

Callie blinked, stunned. This guy was joking right?

“You want an apology?” she asked, her voice rising an octave in disbelief. If anyone needed an apology here, it was her. She stared at him like he had grown horns. 

“Of course.”

She waited for some sign that he was joking but his expression remained calm and serious.

Her mouth dropped open slightly.

“You can’t be serious,” she said again.

But he was.

Callie sat up straighter, her eyes hardening. “You’re not getting any apology from me,” she said firmly. “Not today, not ever.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. Bracing his hands on his desk, he leaned in slowly, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of rain and cedar.

His voice dropped to a low murmur.

“If you don’t apologize dear Callie…” he said. “I’m going to follow you. Everywhere. Every fucking where. And haunt you until I get it.”

Callie’s eyes grew wide. How did he know her name? And more importantly, who is this creep?

She narrowed her eyes back at him. “Is that a threat?”

“Do you want to find out?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Callie couldn't believe his sheer audacity. 

But, hell no. It would indeed make her life worse if he decided to do that.

She snapped to face him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

The apology was sharp, annoyed, and clearly insincere. In her head she added, ‘now fuck off, will ya?’

To her absolute horror, Damon only shook his head slowly, and almost playfully. “That’s not how to apologize,” he said. “You need to get me flowers, chocolates. And a proper, touchy apology letter that you’ll read aloud. To me.”

Callie stared at him for a moment. Before she burst into a full-bodied, ugly, hysterical laugh. 

“What park’s asylum did you crawl out of?” she muttered angrily under her breath, even though she knew very well that his wolf could probably hear her.

She fixed her eyes on Damon, face dry of any humor now. “The only flowers I’ll be giving you are the ones I’ll place on your grave. So fuck off.”

She turned back around and slammed her head onto the table, as if that would magically end the chaos that now surrounded her.

Damon grinned. Even though his lycan was suppressed, he knew his dominant aura could still be felt. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone aside from his sister had the audacity to speak to him like that, and this wolfless lady took it to the top of the notch.

He frankly enjoyed the chase.

But before he could send back a reply to her graveflower threat, a loud voice cut through the tension between them.

“Callie!”

Her head swung back up. Every eye in the hall snapped to the doorway where Alpha Owen stood. Callie froze.

Shit. What ever happened to her quiet school life?

Owen stormed down the aisle, ignoring whispers and gawking eyes. “Have you been avoiding me?” 

Callie’s stomach twisted. She shook her head, fumbling for words, but Owen didn’t care. He seized her arm.

“Come with me. I need you to ease my stress.”

No. The word screamed in her skull. He’d rejected her… what else did he want?

Then his pheromones flooded the hall. The air thickened, hot and suffocating. Students flinched; weaker wolves bowed their heads instinctively. Callie’s knees buckled, her body betraying her under the force of his presence and the mate bond pulling at her nerves.

Her head dropped as he yanked her upward. But he suddenly stopped.

Callie slowly lifted up her head.

To her surprise, Damon had caught Owen’s wrist, his grip wrapped precisely around the same spot Owen had held her. 

Damon’s golden-brown eyes darkened, glowing faintly. Something inside him was barely restrained. His Lycan was snarling and pacing in his head just beneath the surface.

And then came the loud crack.

A sharp, sickening sound of bone being crushed echoed through the hall as Damon’s palm dug into Owen’s wrist, refusing to let go. A low growl vibrated from Damon’s chest, so primal it made even the Betas stiffen.

“Get… Your… Filthy… Hands off her,” he growled, voice low and terrifyingly composed.

Owen’s face twisted in shock and pain as he tried to wrench free. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Damon hissed, trying to calm down his lycan.

He leaned closer. “Touch her again, and I will rip your fucking spine out through your back.”