Third-Person Limited – Kendra, then Dominic
In-school suspension was not as dramatic as Kendra had expected.
It was boring.
The ISS room was a small, stale-smelling classroom near the back of the main office, with three desks, one ancient computer, and a motivational poster about choices peeling off the wall.
She hated it on sight.
"Take any seat," the supervising teacher—Mr. Lang, gray hair, permanently unimpressed—said without looking up from his book. "No phones. No talking. Work only."
Kendra shuffled to the desk in the back corner, her wrists wrapped tight, a stack of assignments cradled in both hands. She sat them down carefully, sat, and stared at the clock.
8:05 a.m.
She sighed.
"Your friends can bring you work during lunch," Mr. Lang added. "If they behave."
"They're Jamaican," she muttered. "No promises."
His mouth twitched like he might've heard her, but he didn't comment.
She was supposed to be reflecting.
On her choices.
On the hallway fight.
On the fact that she'd ignored her doctor's advice in favor of punching a werewolf girl in the chest.
She was reflecting.
Kind of.
Just… not on that.
Her brain kept rewinding to last night.
Dominic in her yard, bones breaking and reforming, fur sliding across skin like shadow. The way he'd looked at her afterward—massive, monstrous, and somehow still the same.
I'm still me, he'd said.
He was.
That was the weird part.
The bigger, heavier thing sitting in her chest, though, was the other word.
Mate.
She uncapped her pen, winced when her fingers protested, and began to write the same sentence three times before it came out right.
Reflection: Why Fighting Is Not the Answer –
She stared at the page.
Snorted.
Crossed out the heading and wrote instead:
Reflection: Why Fighting Is Sometimes the Answer (But Also Not Great for Your Healing Bones)
Much better.
Her wrists throbbed.
She shook them out gently.
The school knew about werewolves. That wasn't new. That was the sales pitch, even— "integrated campus," "coexistence model," all that.
But this was new.
Being the Alpha heir's human mate wasn't just a shipping war on Garrison Tea anymore.
It meant wolves were looking at her differently.
She'd seen it even on the short walk from the office to ISS.
Some wolves had dipped their chins a fraction when she passed—a subtle acknowledgment she'd seen them give Dominic.
Some had watched her with narrowed eyes, like they were measuring her, weighing her.
A few humans had stared the same way, like she'd jumped a line she wasn't supposed to.
She shifted in her seat.
I didn't ask for this, she thought.
Her bones, her broken wrists, her casts—those were the consequences of Dominic's stupidity and her temper. She'd signed that mess when she chose to fight back instead of backing down.
But mate? Pack politics? The Alpha line?
She hadn't signed anything.
Yet.
The clock ticked.
She tried to focus on her math worksheet.
Got halfway through a problem before her phone buzzed quietly in her bag.
She froze.
Mr. Lang's eyes were on his book.
Slowly, she slid the bag closer with her foot, opened it just enough to fish the phone out under the desk.
A single new notification from Sofia:
Sofia: They got you locked up in ISS? 👀
Sofia: Ow. Heard about the fight. U good??
Sofia: Also @GarrisonTea posted a poll and I want to burn the whole account down.
Kendra's chest tightened.
She shouldn't look.
She looked.
She opened Instagram.
Pulled up the account.
The newest post wasn't a picture.
It was text over a blurred hallway background.
Poll: Do you think the Alpha heir and his HUMAN mate will last?
Options:
💔 Crash & Burn
💍 Endgame
The comments ran wild.
Karina deserved better but ngl the new girl got hands 😭Human mate? Risky business…Crash & burn. She won't survive pack drama. Did you SEE the way he said "mate"??Why are we acting like she has a say? The bond already chose 💀
Her thumb hovered.
She closed the app.
Her reflection on the black screen looked tired.
Angry.
And—annoyingly—hurt.
"Phone," Mr. Lang said without looking up.
She jolted.
"How—?"
"I've been doing this longer than you've been alive," he said. "You kids all have the same guilty neck-twitch."
She sighed and stood, walking to his desk. Placed the phone down.
"You get it back at the end of the day," he said. His tone softened a fraction. "I heard about your wrists. Nurse says you were more lucky than wise."
"Story of my life," she muttered.
He eyed the braces. "You hit Frost with those?"
"Just once," she said. "Wanted to hit her more. Didn't."
"Small mercies," he said. "Sit. Work. Try not to make my day exciting."
She went back to her desk.
Work.
Right.
She forced herself to focus on an English assignment.
Underline themes. Circle metaphors. Pretending her own life wasn't starting to feel like a badly written one.
By lunch, she was halfway convinced she'd die of boredom before pack politics could get her.
The door creaked open.
She glanced up, expecting Dominic, heart doing a traitor jump.
It was Maya.
"I come bearing offerings," she whispered, holding up a lunch tray with her hip. "And I only annoyed three lunch ladies to get in here."
Mr. Lang gave her a look. "You've got five minutes," he said. "Then you're gone."
"Yes, sir," Maya chirped, sliding into the seat in front of Kendra.
She dropped the tray on her desk: fries, a burger, a bottle of water.
"You looked like you needed protein and salt," she said.
"You are the salt," Kendra said. "In the best way."
They ate in silence for a moment.
"How bad is it?" Kendra asked finally. "Out there."
Maya blew out a breath. "On a scale from 'mild drama' to 'season finale'?" she said. "We're at 'audience lives on Twitter for three days after.'"
"Awesome," Kendra said flatly.
"Humans are split," Maya went on. "Some think it's hot. Some think you're an idiot. Some are jealous. Wolves are… complicated."
"Aren't they always?" Kendra muttered.
"Some of them are acting like you're already Luna," Maya said. "Half-kidding. Half not. Some are mad. Mostly on Karina's side. A few are like, 'Human mates are rare and powerful,' and staring at you like you're a bomb that might explode into prophecy."
Kendra groaned and dropped her forehead to the table.
"Will it help if I tell you your punch form was really good?" Maya asked.
Kendra muffled, "Maybe."
Maya waited.
"Hey," she said softer. "For what it's worth? People were already watching you. You walking in with him, you sitting with us, the Joint Service thing? This just… gave them a name for what they were already gossiping about."
"Mate," Kendra said into the desk. "They gave it that name."
"Yeah." Maya hesitated. "You okay with that?"
Kendra lifted her head.
"I'm not okay with anything," she said honestly. "But I'm also not… running. Which surprises me. I thought I'd hit a point and bolt back to Jamaica."
"What's keeping you?" Maya asked.
"My friends," she said. "Bad school food. Anger. And…" She exhaled. "And him, I guess. Which is irritating."
Maya's mouth curved. "Yeah," she said. "He's annoying like that."
Mr. Lang cleared his throat pointedly.
"Time's up, Maya."
"Leaving, sir," she said, standing. She squeezed Kendra's shoulder lightly. "Text me when you get your phone back. Or just scream internally. I'll sense it."
"Wolf?" Kendra guessed.
"Human," Maya said. "Highly tuned bullshit radar."
She slipped out.
Kendra leaned back in her chair.
She wasn't okay.
But she wasn't broken.
That had to count for something.
Pack Noise
By the time the last bell rang, Dominic's head hurt.
Classes had been a blur—teachers still taught, homework still existed, math was still math—but the undercurrent was different.
Wolves looked at him and didn't bother hiding that they were listening harder.
Humans looked at him and whispered.
He heard his name ten times between second period and lunch.
He heard hers even more.
At one point, he passed two younger wolves in the hall—sophomores, pack-born, still getting used to their senses.
"Do you think when they mark each other she would become a werewolf?" one murmured.
"She's human, idiot," the other replied. "Only happens in stories."
"My mom says human mates make the pack stronger," the first said. "Different blood, different view."
"My dad says human mates make trouble," the other shot back. "Media. Lawsuits. They better not break her. Alpha will go ballistic."
They noticed him then.
Both went stiff.
"Alpha-heir," they mumbled, half-saluting with their chins.
Dominic nodded once and kept walking.
At lunch, the cafeteria felt like being under a microscope.
He took his usual spot with Robin, Antonio, and the others.
Kendra wasn't there.
ISS.
He felt the empty seat like a missing tooth.
"On a scale of one to 'oh shit,'" Robin said around a fry, "how dead are you?"
"Depends," Dominic said. "Pack dead or human dead?"
"Pack dead," Antonio replied. "Humans just want drama."
"Then… a four," Dominic said. "Dad's more annoyed than furious. Council's… curious."
"Curious how?" one of the others—Jace, lean and sharp-eyed—asked.
"Some think it's a sign," Dominic said. "Some think it's a mistake. Some think it's an opportunity."
"For what?" Robin asked.
"Politics," Dominic said. "PR. Cross-community deals. A shiny poster: 'Look, the Alpha's son took a human mate, we're all one big happy family."
He said it with bitterness he didn't bother to hide.
"Yeah, that tracks," Antonio said. "You going to let them use her like that?"
"No," Dominic said flatly.
They all believed him.
He wasn't sure how he was going to stop it.
But he meant it.
"Karina's house is a war zone," Jace added. "Heard her mom at the last pack gathering. Something about 'insult to the Frost line' and 'humans thinking they're equal.'"
Tension prickled under Dominic's skin.
"She better not come near Kendra again," he said. "Not until she can talk without using her hands."
"Talked to her parents?" Robin asked.
"Dad has," Dominic said. "They're angry, but they're not stupid. Even they know direct retaliation would look bad. Doesn't mean Karina won't try on her own."
"Like what?" Antonio asked.
He didn't have an answer. That bothered him.
He pushed his tray away, appetite gone.
After school, he waited on the front steps.
Students streamed past him, some nodding, some pretending not to see him.
ISS kids trickled out last.
He saw her the second she stepped through the doors.
She moved a little slower than usual, stiff shoulders.
Her wrists were wrapped thicker now, the nurse's work precise and snug.
Her eyes swept the steps, found him, and did that tiny narrowing thing she did when she was about to decide whether to yell at him or tolerate him.
She walked down.
Didn't speed up.
Didn't veer away.
"That bad?" he asked.
"In-school suspension is just detention with more fluorescent lighting," she said. "I think I lost brain cells."
He huffed a laugh.
"You?" she asked.
"Dozen wolves, three humans, and two teachers asked me some version of 'are you serious,'" he said. "So, normal."
They fell into step together, heading toward the parking lot.
A few heads turned.
Someone whispered, "there they are."
He ignored it.
"Knead your wrists?" he asked. "Or does that hurt?"
"Weird mix of both," she said. "Nurse did enough for now. I can feel them sulking."
They walked in silence a few beats.
"You know," she said slowly, "some wolves gave me… respect nods today."
"Good," he said.
"Some looked at me like I stole their favorite toy," she added.
"Less good," he muttered.
"And someone taped a note to my locker that said, 'ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS' with a little smiley face," she finished. "Smelled like wolf."
He froze mid-step.
His wolf snarled.
"Who?" he asked, voice dropping.
"I don't know," she said. "Didn't see them. Didn't have time to sniff it and categorize the breed."
"Not funny," he said.
She shrugged. "I'm not scared," she said. "Just… irritated. Again."
"You should be cautious," he said. "Some of them will test you. Test us."
"I figured," she said. "Congratulations. You upgraded me from 'new girl' to 'symbol.'"
He winced.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't think about how fast it would spread. How… loud it would get."
"Yes, you did," she said. "You just didn't care in the moment. You were protecting me. It's fine. I'm just… adjusting."
They reached the edge of the lot.
Sofia's car was parked near the back, waiting.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the concrete.
"Hey," he said. "Can I ask you something?"
"That depends," she replied. "Is it going to give me another existential crisis?"
"Probably not," he said. "This one's more… practical."
She sighed. "Go on."
"How do you want to handle… this?" he asked, gesturing between them. "At school. Publicly. Do you want me to avoid you? Back off? Keep walking with you? I'll do whatever makes it less miserable for you."
The fact that he was letting her choose surprised her more than the question.
She thought of the poll.
Of the comments.
Of the way people stared when they walked together.
Of Karina's eyes.
Of being alone in ISS, phone confiscated, mind spinning.
Then of his hand on her back when the crowd had pressed in the hallway.
His yard form.
His careful voice when he'd asked "are you okay with this? and meant it.
She chewed the inside of her cheek.
"I don't want to hide," she said finally. "I've done enough of that in my life. Hiding my body. My feelings. My fear. It sucked."
He watched her, attention focused.
"But" she continued, "I also don't want to do some big 'look at us' show for the school. No kissing in the hallway. No staking territory like you're peeing on a tree. No dramatic speeches unless necessary."
"Deal," he said immediately.
"We walk together if we want to," she said. "We sit together if we want to. We argue if we want to. And if people stare, they stare. But we're not… props."
"Agreed," he said firmly.
"And if this gets too heavy," she added, "if I say, 'I need space,' you don't growl and hover. You give it."
He nodded once. "I will," he said.
She believed him.
Mostly.
"Also," she said, "your pack? Your council? Your ex? If any of them think I'm just some experiment, we're going to have a problem."
"They already know better than to say that to my face," he said.
"Good," she replied. "Now make sure they know better than to say it behind my back."
Something like pride flickered in his eyes.
She reached for the car door handle, then paused.
"I'm still mad at you," she said.
He smiled a little. "I know."
"But" she added reluctantly, "I'm glad you showed me. Your wolf."
His smile softened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she said. "It's less scary knowing what's there than imagining something worse."
"That's kind of my whole argument for telling you everything," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't get smug."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said.
"Liar," she muttered.
He stepped back as she opened the door.
"Kendra," he said.
She looked up.
"Yeah?"
His gaze held hers.
"You're not a symbol to me," he said quietly. "You're just… you."
The words landed somewhere deep.
She hated that they warmed her.
"Go away before I cry and ruin my reputation," she grumbled, climbing in.
He smirked and stepped back.
As Sofia pulled out, Kendra glanced in the side mirror.
Dominic stood in the lot, watching them go, hands in his pockets, shoulders squared against the shifting lines of the sunset closing in.
She flexed her fingers around the seatbelt, wrists aching but intact.
Mate.
Human.
Alpha heir.
Pack drama.
Suspension.
Gossip.
It was a lot.
But as the school shrank in the mirror, she realized something:
She wasn't just surviving it.
She was shaping it.
A little.
And she wasn't doing it alone.
Not anymore.