Chapter 15: The Sting of Envy

CALEB’S POV

I stormed out of Crestwood’s main hall, my shoes slamming the pavement, my blood boiling. Sebastian fucking Wolfe had done it again—stolen my moment, my spotlight, my chance to be something to her. I’d been the one to step in, to pull Isabella off the floor, to face down her asshole brothers and that lying ex, Jake. I’d been her savior, her knight in shining armor, and then Sebastian swooped in, his professor bullshit shutting everyone up, dragging her off to the principal’s office like he owned her.

Talon, snarled, pacing inside me, his rage a fire in my chest. I didn’t know why I cared so much—why Isabella’s tear-streaked face, her trembling hands, her sprained wrist made me want to rip through anyone who hurt her—but I did. And Sebastian, my lifelong nemesis, had taken that from me.

I hit the parking lot, the late afternoon sun glinting off my car. The girls lingered nearby, their giggles sharp, their eyes hungry. “Oh my God, how can someone be this hot and rich?” one cooed, twirling her hair.

“Look at those lips,” another whispered, taking a photo of me.

Normally, I’d bask in it, my smirk side, my ego soaring like I walked on clouds. But now? I didn’t give a fuck. Their voices grated, their stares empty. My day was ruined, my mood black, and all I could see was Isabella’s green eyes, her red hair, her pain—and Sebastian’s smug face stealing her from me.

I yanked open the car door, tossing my backpack to the backseat with a thud, my hands itching to punch something. I was about to slide in, to peel out and leave this shit show behind, when Talon growled, low and insistent. Wait for her. Talon’s voice was clear, tugging me toward Isabella, her scent—jasmine, rain, something wild—still lingering in my senses.

I froze, my hand on the door, my heart pounding. Why her? Why this human girl who didn’t even glance at me in class, who didn’t swoon like the others? I didn’t want her—not like that—but Talon wouldn’t let go, his instincts screaming she was important.

I slammed the door shut, leaning against the Porsche’s hood, my arms crossed, my eyes locked on the school’s entrance. I’d wait. I’d see her, talk to her, figure out why she got under my skin—and why Sebastian was so fucking obsessed. My hatred for him burned, rooted deep in our childhood days. Back home, Sebastian was the golden boy, the people’s prince, loved for his charm, his strength, his so-called goodness. BloodMoon feared and hated their Alpha, Marcus, my father, but they adored Sebastian, bowing to him out of respect, not terror.

Me? They feared me because of my father, their eyes wary, their whispers cold. I was the Alpha’s son, but Sebastian was their hero. I’d spent years trying to take what was his—his glory, his achievements, and even his woman until he broke their bond. Now this human girl was his, and I wanted her—not because I cared, but because taking her would burn him.

A voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and mocking. “Well, well, Caleb Reed. Fancy seeing you here.” Vanessa sauntered over, her black hair gleaming, her designer bag swinging, her minions trailing like shadows. Her smirk was all queen bee, her eyes glinting with malice. “What’s a big shot like you doing moping by his car?”

I rolled my eyes, my jaw tight, my wolf bristling. Vanessa was trouble, a schemer who’d tried to sink her claws into me back when I chased her to spite Sebastian. I’d backed off when he cut her loose—why bother with his scraps?—but now she was here, acting like she ran the place and now she’s trying to blow my cover despite knowing that as werewolves in a human world, we ought to hide our identities to avoid being killed by werewolf hunters.

“Save it, Vanessa,” I said, my voice cold, my gaze flicking back to the school entrance. I didn’t need her drama, at least not now.

She stepped closer, her perfume cloying, her hand brushing my arm. “Oh, come on, Caleb,” she purred, her fingers lingering, her minions gasping behind her. “Don’t be so cold. We’ve not seen each other what—”

I grabbed her wrist, my grip firm, shoving her hand away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, my voice low, Talon growling. “Stop acting like a child and grow up already.”

Her friends gasped, their eyes wide, but Vanessa’s smirk only sharpened, unfazed.

“Touchy,” she said, stepping back, her phone glinting in her hand. “Guess you’re too busy chasing that redheaded slut, huh? Like Sebastian.”

My blood ran hot, my fists clenching. I wanted to shove her again, to wipe that smirk off her face, but movement at the entrance caught my eye. Isabella stepped out, her red hair loose, her face pale, her right wrist cradled. Talon surged, urging me forward. I pushed past Vanessa, ignoring her scoff, and jogged toward Isabella, my heart pounding.

“Hey,” I called, slowing as I reached her, my voice softer than I meant. “Need a ride home?”

She froze, her eyes wary, her shoulders hunching. “No, thanks,” she said, her voice small but firm. “I’ll take the bus.”

I frowned, glancing across the lot. Her brothers were climbing into a sleek BMW, their laughter loud, their faces smug. “Why take the bus when your brothers are riding that?” I asked, nodding toward the car, my tone light but probing.

Her eyes flicked to them, a shadow of sadness crossing her face, so raw it hit me like a punch. “They’re… not waiting for me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, her gaze dropping. She was lying—I couldn’t read her mind to know that, which was fucking weird for a human, but her expression screamed it. Talon whined, sensing her pain, and I didn’t know why it mattered so much.

“Come on,” I pressed, stepping closer, my voice gentle but insistent. “Let me drive you. Save you the bus fare.” I flashed a small smile, hoping to ease her guard.

She shook her head, her grip tightening on her backpack. “I’m fine, really.” Her voice wavered, her eyes darting away, but I didn’t back down.

“Please,” I said, my tone softer, almost pleading. “Just let me help.”

I reached for her backpack, my hand brushing hers, and she flinched but didn’t pull away. After a moment, she sighed, handing it over, her shoulders slumping.

“Fine,” she muttered, her voice defeated.

I grinned, slinging her bag over my shoulder, opening the passenger door of the Porsche. Vanessa and her minions watched, their whispers sharp, but I ignored them, helping Isabella in.

She slid into the seat, her movements stiff, her wrist still cradled. I hopped into the driver’s side, the engine roaring to life, and pulled out of the lot, the school fading behind us.

The drive was quiet at first, the city’s skyline glinting under the setting sun. I glanced at her, her face turned to the window, her red hair catching the light. Talon urged me to speak, to dig, to understand her.

“So,” I started, my voice casual, “what’s the deal with your brothers? They seem… intense.”

She stiffened, her fingers tightening on her wrist. “Can we not talk about my life?” she said, her voice sharp, her eyes still on the window. “Please.”

I frowned, Talon kept on pushing me to try harder, to break through her walls. I reached out, my mind probing, trying to catch a glimpse of her thoughts—a truck that worked on every human I’d met. But her mind was a void, a blank wall, impossible to read. My jaw tightened, confusion spiking. Humans couldn’t block werewolves like that. It wasn’t possible. Was she… really different? Was she really a werewolf? But that would be impossible because she has no wolf.

“Okay,” I said, easing off, my hands gripping the wheel. “Just… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” I didn’t know why I said it, why I cared, but the words felt right.

She glanced at me, her eyes softening for a split second before hardening again. “Thanks,” she said, her voice barely audible, “but I don’t.”

She turned back to the window, shutting me out, and I let the silence settle, my wolf restless, my mind racing. Isabella Hart was a puzzle, a danger, and I was deeper than I’d planned.