Hayley's POV
Mr. Richard just kept blabbering gibberish. At least, that's what it sounded like to me. Everyone else seemed to listen like he was making perfect sense. Maybe he was actually teaching.
But I couldn't focus. Not just because of the person who had been staring into my soul since I walked in, but because I couldn't control my senses or my hunger. My fangs were still out.
Mum couldn't get us blood bags here the way she used to back in Texas. The hospital security in this place was too tight, so until we found a way in, we had to rely on animal blood. That wasn't enough, at least not for me. Rick, of course, seemed fine. Who was I kidding? He's Rick, the perfect son, Mama's golden boy. Of course he was doing fine no matter the situation. I rolled my eyes at the thought, forgetting where I was.
My nails were still dug deep into the wood of the desk. Hunger made it impossible to relax. I tried so hard to control myself, but it felt useless.
And that stare. I could feel it lingering. The moment I entered the classroom, whoever it was had been studying me carefully. I prayed he hadn't figured out what I really was.
Then the bell rang, loud enough to split my skull. The sound screeched through me, and I bit my lip hard to stop myself from screaming.
"Okay, that's all for today. Class dismissed," Mr. Richard said.
The ringing stopped. Relief washed through me, and I leaned back, exhaling. Everyone filed out quickly. I thought the watcher had left too.
I was wrong.
I stood to pack my things when I jolted back with a scream. A weird blond guy stood right in front of me, hands planted firmly on the desk, eyes locked on me.
My stomach dropped. My nails were still wedged into the wood, but since the room was empty, I managed to pull them free without worry. For a split second, I almost felt relieved. But then I realized, he was the one who had been staring.
"I advise you not to make a sound. You don't want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself," he said. His tone was commanding, like he owned the space. Fear knotted in my chest. I had never felt so vulnerable. No one else was here. Rick wasn't here. And I couldn't reveal myself. Not now.
"I know for sure you're not human," he continued, voice steady. "Definitely not a werewolf. But I do know you're something else. A supernatural. I just hope you're not the type I think you are."
My blood ran cold. How could he know? The mask potion should have hidden me. That could only mean one thing: he wasn't ordinary either.
"You're crazy. Werewolves aren't real, and there's no such thing as supernatural," I said, forcing my voice to sound sharp, hoping to gaslight him. But something in his eyes told me he wasn't buying it.
"Shut up. I said not a word," he snapped, his voice echoing through the room.
Panic flared, but anger pushed through it. "There's something wrong with you. You don't get to tell me what to do," I spat, shoving my books into my bag and standing to leave.
Before I could move, his hand clamped around my wrist, strong and unrelenting.
"I said you're not going anywhere until I find out what you are," he said firmly.
I froze. His grip tightened. It stung, though not as much as it would have for a human.
"You're hurting me. Let go," I snapped.
"Oh, please. You barely felt that," he scoffed.
That was it. His arrogance, his persistence, it pushed me over the edge.
I drove my knee into his stomach, hard enough to slam him against the wall. He doubled over, and I bolted for the door. My fingers brushed the handle, then pain exploded across my cheek.
I stumbled, blinking, and saw his fist still raised. How the hell had he gotten up so fast?
"I said you're not going anywhere," he growled, releasing my face.
Rage simmered, but I couldn't risk exposing myself or the clan.
"Are you insane?" I hissed.
He only smirked. "Oh, please. You barely felt that too."
My teeth clenched. What if this was what he wanted, to push me until I lost control, so I'd reveal myself?
"I want you to show me what you are," he said, confirming my worst fear.
"I'm a girl. A human. What do you want from me?" I lied.
His eyes shifted—blue flashing to red before settling back. He knew I was lying.
Another punch slammed across my face. My vision blurred, my knees almost buckled.
Enough.
I grabbed him and hurled him into the wall. He staggered but recovered fast, seizing my hair and yanking my head back. His fist drove into my stomach, launching me across the room. Pain lanced through me.
Fine. If he wanted a fight, he'd get one.
I blurred forward with vampire speed, grabbing the back of his head and smashing it into the wall. He groaned. Without pausing, I caught him by the neck and slammed him onto a desk. Wood splintered. Blood poured from his mouth as he gasped for air.
"Stay the fuck away from me," I hissed, spitting near him and turning to leave.
But he caught my leg, dragging me down.
"You're not going anywhere. I can't have you bloodsuckers endangering my pack," he snarled.
"You're crazy. Go see a doctor," I snapped, struggling.
His fist connected with my face again. White-hot anger burned through me. I struck back.
And then we were just trading blows—fists, kicks, slams. The room fell apart around us. Chairs splintered, tables cracked, the board split clean in half and crashed to the ground.
We were both bleeding, both relentless.
Then a voice cut through the chaos, loud and commanding.
"Kylian!!!"
So that was his name. I wanted to glance back, see who had shouted, but turning would give him the advantage. So I kept fighting.
Even as the voice echoed, he didn't stop. Neither did I.
And then another scent hit me—sharp, familiar.
Rick.
My stomach dropped. He was here.
Fuck.
If he saw this, if the clan found out… I was finished. Not just me—Rick, our parents, all of us. Mum wouldn't forgive me for being careless.
I'd be blamed for everything. Forced to move. Again.
We were doomed.
Really, truly doomed.