CHAPTER THREE

Hot tears slide down my face and I angrily wipe them away, splashing some water on my face from the sink before taking a few deep breaths and telling myself to calm down.

Carefully, I spread out my schedule, squinting at the damaged paper. Apparently, my first period class is English with a teacher called Mrs. Longan. It’s in room 208, I think.

With no other options, I turn my shirt backwards, so now the hole Miranda made is between my shoulderblades rather than in the middle of my front. Maybe if I keep my back pressed against my seat, no one will notice.

The hallways are empty, and I know I’ll have to enter class late. Yet another embarrassment piled on top of an already horrible morning.

At least now it’s easy to find Room 208, without a bunch of other kids crowding and jostling around. I steel myself and pull open the door, trying to slip unnoticed into the classroom.

“You’re late.” The teacher’s stern voice is the first thing that greets me. A few kids giggle.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “My schedule got...lost.”

“Well, that’s not how we do things here at Ponderosa High. You need to keep better track of your belongings, and stop making excuses.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” My face burns with humiliation.

“What is your name?”

“Sarah.”

She looks at her attendance sheet, then back up at me. “Well, Sarah, you’ve already caused enough disruption in my class, so why don’t you just have a seat?”

I look around the classroom, hoping there’s an empty seat way in the back where I can just hide out and catch my breath.

Unfortunately for me, there’s only one empty seat.

And not only is it directly in the middle of the classroom...it’s the spot right next to Malcolm.

I can’t exactly argue, though, so I take my seat, pulling out a pencil and notebook as Mrs. Longan starts talking about poetic structures. We studied some of these last year at my school in Virginia, so it’s easy enough to follow along.

Malcolm turns to me and wrinkles his nose, annoyance and disgust plain on his face.

“What happened to your shirt?”

Great. Someone has already noticed. And not just someone - the one person who told me I needed to stop letting myself get bullied, or else.

“Just trying something new with my style,” I reply.

“Since when is a backwards and ripped up t-shirt a new style?”

His eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t lie to me, Omega.”

“Just a small altercation,” I confess.

He rolls his eyes. “What did I tell you?”

“I know,” I mumble. “I’m sorry.”

“Useless Omega,” Malcolm grumbles, and turns back to whatever the teacher is saying. “Just stay out of everyone’s way from now on.”

No problem. That’s all I wanted to do anyway.

Luckily, I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any more crap from the other kids. Miranda shoots me a few nasty looks in the cafeteria, but I do my best to ignore her and find a seat on my own near the garbage cans.

Finally, the day finishes. When the bell rings after seventh period, I grab my backpack and try to be the first one out. I just want to walk home as quickly as possible and make it to the safety of my bedroom.

But as I’m heading through the parking lot of Ponderosa High, I see a metallic black Jeep pull in, its paint job sparkling, its sides and roof completely open. Miranda, Malcolm, and some of the other shifter kids run over, laughing and shoving, and climb into the Jeep.

I know I ought to stay far, far away from them. But there’s something about the Jeep’s driver. Even from a distance, I can see his lean but well muscled frame and his dark hair sweeping over his forehead.

Uh oh. He catches me looking. Our eyes meet for a split second across the parking lot.

“Hey!” The Jeep’s driver is waving me over. I see Miranda toss her hair and say something obviously snotty, and Malcolm crosses his arms. But the dark haired guy isn’t paying any attention to them. He gestures again for me to go over, and there’s nothing I can do but obey.

He hops out of the Jeep and walks toward me as well, meeting me in the empty space beside the jeep. The other shifter kids hanging around look impatient, but no one says anything.

“Malcolm tells me you’re the new girl,” he says. I look up at him, feeling heat in my chest. His eyes are a piercing silver and his hair is so black that it gleams in the afternoon sunlight.

“Yep,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. What is going on? As an Omega, I’m used to feeling bashful around higher status shifters, but this is something else. “I’m Sarah.”

“I’m Caleb.” He smiles, and it’s not predatory or cold. “Welcome to the Flagstaff pack.”

Wait...Caleb? Malcolm said he was the Alpha. My head is swirling. He’s gorgeous, and he’s actually being friendly to me, and he’s the Alpha. What is going on.

“Thanks,” is all I can say.

“I wish I was here this morning to introduce you around,” he says, “but I graduated last year. Hopefully Malcolm showed you the ropes?”

“A few of them,” I mumble.

To my surprise, Caleb laughs. A genuine laugh, like he thought I was funny. I feel butterflies in my stomach and heat rising in my face. “A few of them! That’s good. Well, I’ll have to show you the rest. There’s a party tonight up on the mountain. All the shifters - well, all the ones our age - will be there. You should come.”

“I don’t know,” I say, rubbing my neck and glancing around nervously. Behind Caleb’s back, the kids in the jeep are glaring at me like they wish they could rip me limb from limb.

But then Caleb leans down and puts a hand on my shoulder. He’s strong but gentle, and his touch sends tingles down my spine. I can hardly breathe. His scent is incredible - musky, and herbal, and overpowering. There’s nothing in my lungs but him. Nothing in my mind but him.

“Please,” he murmurs, his lips close to my ear, his breath warm. “I need to see you there.”

I shiver. It feels like he’s speaking into my very core. “Okay,” I say, closing my eyes and nodding.

“Great.” He steps back, grinning. “It’s up at the Badger Lodge, around eight tonight.”

Then he turns and leaps back into the Jeep, making the other boys start whooping and shouting, and they all peel out of the parking lot.

I can’t make sense of what just happened. I’ve never felt that way around a guy before. I thought that sort of response meant you had just met your mate, but Caleb is the Alpha. I’m an Omega. There’s no way we’re supposed to be mated.

Caleb probably just wants to see whether I fit in with the pack. I was too caught up in his gorgeous pewter eyes to see things realistically. He’s not my mate - he’s just an Alpha trying to lead his pack, even when it includes Omegas like me.

He’s not my mate, I tell myself. Still, as I walk home, all I can think about is his scent, the deep sound of his voice, and those incredible silver eyes.