Chapter 2: FUCK OFF BITCH

Riley’s POV

“Who the hell are you?!” the naked girl shrieked at me.

“I’m sorry. I went into the wrong room,” I said immediately, backing up.

“You were spying on us?! You disgusting sick little creep!” she kept on screaming.

Footsteps rushed up behind me. Within seconds, a crowd had gathered in the doorway, including my lovely roommates.

"Riley! What are you doing here?" Layla gasped. Her panic was ironic, considering she was the one who told me to come here for textbooks.

"I came here because you told me to. You literally said it a few minutes ago, remember?"

"No way. I would never send you here," she denied immediately. "Everyone knows the hallway at the end of the West Wing belongs to Ezra. No one's allowed there. Not even teachers."

Camila crossed her arms and glared at me. "And who picks up textbooks on the first day of orientation? Everyone knows they get handed out in class."

“So you lied and tricked me into this,” I said coldly.

“Bullshit!” Camila cried. “I didn’t even talk to you during the orientation. Everyone in our dorm saw it…Right girls?”

All the other girls in our dorm nodded instantly, eager to confirm her story. And suddenly I was this disgusting little freak who peeked on the Lycan King’s heir having sex with his girlfriend.

“Fine. So I had walked into the wrong room. I already apologized. Can I go now?”

I tried to walk past them. Camila shoved me back hard.

“What the hell is your problem?!” I snapped.

“You think you can just walk away after barging into Ezra’s space? After how you’ve intruded him?” Her voice dripped with venom. “This is the Royal Academy. We have rules here. Not like that uncivilized shithole you crawled out of.”

She looked past me and suddenly flushed. “Ezra, don’t you agree? She should be punished.”

Ezra finally sat up.

His shirt hung open, toned chest and abs on full display.

He raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t respond right away.

“So I’m supposed to be punished because I walked into the wrong room? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Obviously. That’s how the Lycan world works.” Layla said with a plastic smile. “Let me think…You should be whipped—10 lashes—and expelled from school.”

“Bullshit. Only the principal can expel me,” I said coldly.

"Wanna bet?" Camila rolled her eyes. "Girls, get her out of Ezra’s room. Make sure she’s gone for by the end of the day."

The girls charged at me. One yanked my hair, another tore at my shirt. Their long nails dug into my skin. I tried to fight them off. "Get off me!"

Yet my resistance only made them laugh.

"Get out of our school, dog!" someone shouted. "This place isn’t for werewolves like you."

"Yeah, disappear already!"

“You don’t’ belong here!”

They were just about to drag me out when a lazy voice called out:

"Wait."

The room froze. They all turned and looked over to him.

Ezra strolled over, hands in his pockets, a smug grin on his face. His chest was still bare, and there were still hickeys left by his girlfriend. He radiated smug arrogance.

"Tell them to let me go," I hissed.

He grinned wider. "I almost didn’t recognize you at the gate. Long time no see, Riley."

There’s a collective gasp. Everyone looked utterly shocked.

"You—you know her?" Camila stuttered.

"Yup. And you might want to be careful. She’s not just any werewolf," he said, eyes glinting sinisterly as he looked at me. "Why don’t you tell them who you are?"

I stayed silent.

"Everyone, meet Riley Monroe, daughter of my father's new wife." he announced.

I sighed internally.

There was a long silence. Then Layla broke it, her voice shaking.

"Wait... the King’s new wife…You mean—she’s THAT WHORE’S daughter?!"

"Don’t call my mom that," I said sharply.

No one listened.

Ezra gave a humorless laugh. "Yes, that same whore who was been fucking my father while my mother was still on her sickbed. And barely six months after my mother passed, she couldn’t wait to marry him. That. Whore."

I glared at him, furious. But unfortunately, nothing he said was a lie.

My mother had been seeing the King even before his wife passed away. Even from the small village where I came from, I heard rumors about my mom. No one likes a homewrecker. Especially not in the royal family.

And that’s how I ended up here.

After the Queen finally passed, my mom pushed through the marriage. I’d been raised by my grandmother for a decade, but suddenly, my mom insisted I come stay with her and hold her hand through the wedding.

Classic her.

Never thinking about what this would do to my life.

"So once my dad marries her mom, she becomes my stepsister," Ezra said, looking right at me. "As much as I hate the idea, I’ll have to deal with her existence."

"That’s not fair," Camila said shakily.

"Why her?" Layla cried.

I took a deep breath. "Believe me, I hate this arrangement more than you do."

"Oh really? Sure doesn’t look like it. Pulling stunts on the first day to impress me? You might even be worse than your mother."

Ezra grabbed my chin. I gasped—he gripped too hard.

"Stay away from me, mutt.” he growled. “Being my stepsister doesn’t mean I want you anywhere near me."

He gave my shoulder a hard shove and walked off. His ridiculously hot girlfriend followed him, but not before throwing me a nasty glare.

Everyone else stared at me like I was something rotten. I had expected this. It’s why I tried to keep my identity quiet as long as possible. But that hope died on day one.

I shook off the girls and walked out, alone.

The rest of the orientation was like hell.

The rumors spread like wildfire. People whispered behind my back all day. By the time the campus tour ended, everyone knew I was the daughter of that whore.

When the group was finally dismissed, I could barely breathe. I just wanted to get to my dorm and drop dead on my bed.

Our dorms were some cozy little villas, six students per house. When I found the house labeled "6," there was already a crowd outside. They were all pointing at something, laughing, and talking loudly.

Suddenly I had a bad feeling.

And as soon as they saw me coming, they scattered.

I went straight to the front door.

And then, I saw it.

My luggage was dumped on the floor. My clothes had been shredded into pieces. My things were smashed. Books torn apart and thrown in front of a bedroom door.

And on the wall, in bright red spray paint, it said:

FUCK OFF. BITCH.