Chapter 1 #2
I looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were filled with venom, the same cruel superiority I’d seen countless times before. I’d lost a teaching assistant position after defying her once—she’d had my notes shredded and flushed down a toilet. I couldn’t afford to fight back again.
“Give it back, Avery Norton,” I said, my lips trembling as I bit back the taste of blood. The anger and shame burned in my chest, a fire I couldn’t extinguish. “Give me my—”
A wave of scalding brown liquid hit my face, cascading down my cheeks and neck. I gasped, a sharp, choked sound escaping my throat as I stumbled backward and collapsed onto the floor.
Coffee. Freshly brewed, by the smell of it.
The heat seared my skin, each drop a tiny flame licking at my face.
The bitter liquid soaked into my clothes, my hair, my pores, carrying not just pain but a deep, bone-crushing humiliation.
I bit my lip hard, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.
The crowd’s laughter roared in my ears, a tidal wave of mockery.
“Oh no! Lyia!” Avery gasped, her voice dripping with fake concern as she held up the empty coffee cup. “I’m so clumsy! Are you okay? That was totally an accident!”
My body shook uncontrollably, the pain and shame blending into a single, overwhelming force. The coffee mixed with the tears I couldn’t hold back, streaking down my face. I wanted to scream, to run, to vanish.
“Now that I’ve apologized,” Avery said, her voice turning syrupy sweet, “why don’t you kneel down and clean my shoes?” She leaned closer, her words a venomous whisper meant only for me. “Or maybe I’ll make a call to the prison. I’m sure I could make your dad’s life… interesting.”
My breath caught in my throat. Avery’s threat wasn’t empty.
Her family’s influence stretched everywhere, including the justice system.
I’d heard stories of inmates suffering for crossing the wrong people—extra punishments, solitary confinement, worse.
She knew my weakness, knew I couldn’t fight back.
To her, I was a toy that never broke, a punching bag for her amusement, branded with the sins of my family.
My body trembled with humiliation, my vision blurring as tears distorted everything before me. I slowly moved to kneel, my jeans nearly brushing the cold floor, my dignity on the verge of shattering.
I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I’m letting you down again.
Just as my knees were about to touch the ground, a strong hand gripped my arm, yanking me upright. The touch was warm—almost too warm, like it could burn through my skin. I gasped, startled, and looked up.
Silver-gray eyes met mine, sharp and breathtaking.
Devon Sterling.
He stood there, impossibly tall, in a tailored dark gray blazer, no tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar in a way that screamed effortless elegance.
Devon Sterling, heir to the Sterling Group fortune, future Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, and a werewolf of unmatched power.
His presence filled the hallway, commanding attention without effort.
He was beautiful in a way that didn’t seem real, like a statue brought to life.
“Devon?” Avery’s voice wavered, then turned cloying. “Devon Sterling?”
“Avery Norton,” he said, leaning slightly toward her, his voice laced with a playful malice. “I know you.”
Avery’s face lit up, ready to bask in his attention.
“The Norton Group heiress,” Devon continued, his eyes widening in mock awe. “The one and only… and utterly foolish. I feel sorry for your father.”
“Devon, are you insane?” Avery’s shriek was like a strangled duck. I bit my lip to stifle a laugh, despite the coffee still dripping from my chin. If I weren’t such a mess, I’d have cheered at her humiliation.
“You just said,” Devon murmured, stepping closer to me. His scent hit me—cedar and rum, intoxicating and far too close. My wolf stirred, restless and eager. “Duck?”
A squeak of panic escaped me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. Damn it, how did I say that out loud? And why was he still holding my arm?
Devon chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver through me. “Good girl.”
Avery’s eyes narrowed, her gaze venomous. “Devon, you’re not seriously interested in this bitch, are you? I’ll tear her face off!”
“What a terrible joke,” Devon said with a casual shrug. “I don’t allow it.”
His tone was light, but there was an edge to it—an Alpha’s command that made the air feel heavier.
Avery paled and took a step back, instinctively submitting to the future leader of her pack.
I saw the cold authority in Devon’s eyes, the kind only a born Alpha could wield.
My wolf responded, a strange warmth spreading through me, like coming home after years of wandering.
She wanted to leap forward, to nuzzle against him, to roll at his feet.
Mate.
The word echoed in my mind, undeniable and terrifying.
My hand shook in his grip, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. No.
This can’t be. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to tie me to someone like him—someone from a world I could never touch.
Devon had pulled me up out of pity, chewed out Avery for fun, and that was where this needed to end.
He’d go back to his charmed life, and I’d stay in my gutter, where I belonged.
I couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust anyone born in the sunlight.
Their kindness was a game, just like their cruelty, and I was always the one left bleeding when the game was over.
“I have to go,” I said, my voice barely steady. I yanked my arm free, my fingers brushing the green hair tie on his wrist. His grip faltered, as if my touch had shocked him. His face paled, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
No way was I going to let myself feel disappointed.
I had to stay away from him. Devon Sterling was a notorious playboy, always tangled up in some new scandal, swapping girlfriends every month for the latest magazine cover model.
His world was a carousel of glamor and heartbreak, and I refused to be another passenger.
“Wait, Lyia!”
How did he know my name? The way he said it, his voice deep and resonant, echoed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake.
Lyia. Lyia. Lyia. Each syllable tugged at me, tempting me to stop, to turn back, to stay. Don’t call me again, or I might not leave.
I snatched my soaked notebook from the floor, its pages heavy with coffee and humiliation.
Shoving through the stunned crowd, I bolted, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a caged animal desperate to break free.
I could feel his eyes on me, a weight that followed my every step—confusion, maybe even longing in his gaze.
No, that couldn’t be right. I wasn’t anything to him.
This had to be a mistake, another cruel game designed to pull me in and spit me out.