Leila
At noon, I grabbed a quick sandwich in the school cafeteria for lunch, then hurried off to my next class. It had been ages since I'd lived the student life, and I still hadn't quite adjusted to this frantic pace.
When I stepped out of the cafeteria, I noticed the sky was covered in dark clouds. *Damn it*, I thought—I'd forgotten to check the weather forecast. It looked like rain. But with class starting soon, I didn't have time to worry about it. I picked up my pace, half-jogging toward the building.
Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder boomed overhead. I jumped in shock, and my backpack slipped from my hand, hitting the ground. By the time I knelt down to pick it up, big, fat raindrops were pouring down on me, soaking me instantly.
I tried to stand up with my backpack, but a wave of dizziness hit me, and I nearly stumbled. What's wrong with me? I wondered. I'd thought I'd fully recovered these past few weeks—why was I stil
LeilaThose words felt like a blunt knife, twisting in my chest. In my last life, I'd begged to hear him say something like that—craved his warmth, his care. But now, when I'd long since resolved to escape, his tenderness had become a suffocating chain. Every word of affection felt like a noose around my neck.When he left, silence finally returned to the room. I fumbled for my phone, hidden under the pillow, and when the screen lit up, thirty missed calls stared back at me—all from Darren. My heart tightened. I was about to call back when the phone rang again, "Darren" glowing on the screen, searing my eyes.I took a deep breath, forcing the tremor from my voice, and hit answer."Leila? Where are you?! Are you okay?!" Darren's voice came through the speaker, thick with anxiety—a warm current that only made my guilt sharper."I… I'm fine." I whispered, my nails digging into the phone case until my fingertips whitened. "I fa
LeilaAfter the passion faded, Lucas pulled himself off the disheveled sheets and stood to dress, buttoning his shirt one by one with a calmness that made the possession of moments ago feel like a trivial afterthought. I lay on the hospital bed, drained of all strength, my wrists still bound by his silk tie—rough fibers leaving faint red marks, a testament to his control.He loomed over me, his golden Lycan eyes glinting coldly in the morning light. His gaze traced the bite marks on my neck, the finger-shaped bruises on my collarbone, and a satisfied curve pulled at his lips—as if the disheveled marks on my body were a work of art he'd crafted himself. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his knee pressing against mine, and leaned in. My muscles tensed instantly; I shrank back on instinct, my spine hitting the cold headboard before I stopped—convinced he was about to launch another assault.But he only reached out, fisting the tie around my wris
Leila"What do you want?!" I clutched my knees to my chest, the woolen blanket twisted tight in my fists until my knuckles whitened, as if the thin fabric could shield me from the oppressive aura of the Alpha Lycan looming over me. His pheromones hung in the air—sharp, piney, and feral—making my stomach churn with a mix of revulsion and a shameful, gnawing heat.Lucas advanced step by step, his custom leather shoes clicking softly against the carpet, each sound a hammer blow to my racing heart. He lifted his wrist, unclasped his watch, and let the metal case clatter against the nightstand—a sharp, final sound that sliced through the silence. "What do I want?" His voice dropped lower, a velvet purr laced with unshakable authority, "You know exactly what I want, Leila."My skin ignited, warmth spreading from my neck to the tips of my ears, my fingers tingling. I knew this feeling—it was the mating bond, that damn invisible chain that had bo
LeilaAt noon, I grabbed a quick sandwich in the school cafeteria for lunch, then hurried off to my next class. It had been ages since I'd lived the student life, and I still hadn't quite adjusted to this frantic pace.When I stepped out of the cafeteria, I noticed the sky was covered in dark clouds. *Damn it*, I thought—I'd forgotten to check the weather forecast. It looked like rain. But with class starting soon, I didn't have time to worry about it. I picked up my pace, half-jogging toward the building.Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder boomed overhead. I jumped in shock, and my backpack slipped from my hand, hitting the ground. By the time I knelt down to pick it up, big, fat raindrops were pouring down on me, soaking me instantly.I tried to stand up with my backpack, but a wave of dizziness hit me, and I nearly stumbled. What's wrong with me? I wondered. I'd thought I'd fully recovered these past few weeks—why was I stil
Leila"What did you say?" My voice came out graveled, a sound I didn't recognize, as if my throat had swallowed broken glass.The classroom door slammed open. Cassius froze in the frame, his leather satchel slipping from one shoulder, wire-rimmed glasses askew.I let go of Ryan's sleeve as if it burned. The fabric held the imprint of my fingers, a dark stain on the pale cloth. "This isn't over." My tongue felt swollen, heavy with unspoken threats. Ryan's lips curved, a smile that didn't reach his eyes—those eyes, too bright, too keen, like he was already tasting victory."If you want to know who poisoned you," he said, voice smooth as venom, "come to the parking lot after class. Wait for me."Wait for him? I almost laughed. Didn't he know Lucas and Darren may have been muttering about shovels? When Darren had first seen Ryan hovering near my locker, I'd caught the flicker in his eyes. He'd already picked out the spot to bury him alive, I was
LeilaThe lecture hall was fillled with an eager scent of fresh starts. I shifted in my chair, the pleats of my skirt digging into my thighs, and let my gaze sweep the room. Rows upon rows of faces—sharp, polished, hungry. This was our first class, the start of something that felt more like a chess match than a semester. Everyone was sizing each other up, curious but cautious, like wolves circling a clearing, trying to map the hierarchy without showing their teeth.Business graduate students, they called us. But we both knew that was a euphemism. Look closer: the tailored blazers that cost more than my rent, the watches that ticked with old money, the quiet confidence that came from being born into packs that owned cities, that wrote laws, that ruled. Hidden talents, they said. More like hidden fangs. Most were next-gen successors, heirs to empires built on power and blood. Wealthy, noble—terms that meant nothing here, not really. Here, it was about who you