Chapter 2
I did utter shit.
That paper is the equivalent to a lump of solidified crap in a toilet bowl.
At this rate, my sorry ass will need summer school to pass.
The blame isn't all on me though. The Maths teacher has a boring mode of delivery and teaches the topics as if we've mastered the subject and taking a refresher course.
Most of us would be doing summer just to pass Maths.
I studied, of course, but barely understood much. It might as well be a foreign language.
"Bad morning?" a deep voice says, jolting me as I slam the locker door shut.
"Fucking shit, McKenzie. Make some noise when you approach people." Worked up from the mock test and haywire hormones, I have no patience for Dale McKenzie's spontaneous desire to be a pain.
Dale's face stays a mask of perfect stoicism despite the fleeting amusement that flashes in his eyes.
He's one quarter of our group, and the future alpha of Marcana.
Standing at six foot seven, he's built like a freight train with raven black hair and blue eyes that make him all the more menacing.
His lack of facial expression makes him unapproachable to most, werewolf and human alike.
Only around his inner circle does his real personality shine. Sometimes.
"Why so snappy?" Dale leans closer, dragging his shoulder along the metal locker, the stoicism cracking to give way for a shit-eating smirk. "Did you forget to eat, or did someone shit in your cornflakes?"
Dale receives a shriveling glare as his answer. I'm in no mood to tolerate his smart-ass humor. And these mood swings. It's baffling where it comes from or why it's happening. They haven't died down at all since I got here.
It's been months since it was this bad and I snapped and growled at everyone. But still, this time, it feels different. It feels like a sense of foreboding. Something is amiss and as clueless about its origins as I am, its approach reminds me of a coming storm that will blow shit haywire.
"Are your mood swings acting up again?" Dale queries, tilting his head, retaining that blank expression. I nod, not at all sure of what to say to explain this amiss feeling.
Dale catches on that a single nod will be all the response he'll get, so he doesn't pry.
Call it intuition or his terrifying astuteness at reading people, he always knows when one of us needs to talk.
He opens his mouth to speak when a sudden, obnoxious holler echoes throughout the hallway successfully gripping everyone's attention.
I don't need to look to know.
I know those voices and roll my eyes in supreme annoyance. It's none other than Brent Harper – the most painful hemorrhoid you will ever have the displeasure of encountering. He's just as popular as Carter but for an entirely different reason.
Carter gained his popularity as star quarterback of the football team, the son of Marcana's beta, and to humans, he's the son to one of the town's wealthiest men.
Bigmouthed Piles over there is human and earned his notable rep for being a bully.
He's right up there with his equally terrible best friend, the captain of the basketball team, Jace Conner.
I hate those two with a fierce passion.
Though humans could be entertaining and their naivete sweet, Jace and Brent are insufferable.
As if being two of the best players on the school's basketball team and having queues of pretty girls lining up to have their hearts broken isn't ego-inflating enough, they cross that fine line between popularity and apathy by bullying those who can't stand up for themselves.
Just the sight of them makes my stomach churn in annoyance. The revulsion I feel when they disturb my eyesight is instantaneous. Particularly at Jace Conner.
Look at him standing there all prim and egotistical like the perfect blond jerkwad, hand-in-hand with his cheerleader girlfriend. I sometimes want to punch that guy in his pretty face and break that neat nose with the perfect curve.
Jace and his posse of popular, aggravating followers, a mix of football and basketball players with a few cheerleaders, make their way through the hallway.
Students clear a path for them as if they're royalty, but I comfort myself thinking they are along the lines of diseased-ridden imbeciles, so everyone steers clear to avoid contracting their stupidity.
Their reactions aren't unwarranted.
Jace and Brent are buddies with the principal's son who is twice as terrible. I used to wonder what went wrong with Blake since he used to be such a cool guy.
Just at that moment, everything goes completely wrong.
A Marcana Were unintentionally wanders in front of the popular posse. He's in our year group but has just turned sixteen. His parents are warriors and his four older brothers have made a name for themselves.
He's small for his age even by his werewolf nature. Standing at five foot five, Laken is a natural bleached blond with expressive blue eyes. He isn't packing a lot of muscle and could easily get trampled in the hallways since many of the boys at this school are tall.
Schrattner's County at large, is werewolf.
Wolf county, in essence.
Each town across the county has a significant Were population and Jasper Falls alone is home to three packs of significant number.
Laken realizes too late that Jace and his posse are behind him.
Preoccupied with digging through his binder, earbuds plugged in, he goes spilling out onto the floor, his binder flying open, and sheets of papers fluttering about, notes going one way, and homework, the other.
The force of the shove makes him yelp out.
His ears turn red from embarrassment, but he rolls his eyes in annoyance at the unruly and boisterous laughter that explodes overhead.
Most of the posse laughs. Jace carries a smug grin on his face as though one's humiliation brings him joy. His girlfriend, unlike him, carries a blank, uncaring look.
They've veered into dangerous territory. One does not mistreat Laken James and gets away unscathed. He doesn't just have four protective brothers who are known to knock a bitch sideways for saying a wrong word in Laken's direction.
He is, after all, the mate to Marcana's future alpha.
And said future alpha is already struggling for control. He struggles as I pin him to the lockers to avoid a bloodbath. Dale can easily shake me off, but his control is torn between restraint and animal instinct, the need to lash out and punish those who upset his mate dominating the logical side.
"Dale, he's okay. He doesn't seem hurt. Just a little embarrassed."
"Get the fuck off me, Sky!" Dale growls, his primal instincts pushing to the surface.
The sound of Jace's voice bounces off the walls of the quiet hallway grabbing my complete attention. He's looking down on Laken with a bored expression.
The little shit! One word from Laken and everything Jace and his parents have could go up in flames with a little time.
"Maybe that'll teach you to walk faster or get out of our fucking way."
Dale's grip on my shoulder tightens to the point of pain. I step away now that the moment is passing, and Dale regains control of himself. He can't risk going wolf because in doing so, there's no doubt that Dale might kill Brent and Jace.
Werewolf-on-human crimes are frowned upon. Treated more harshly than if a human does something to one of us or one of their own.
The group passes without so much as a glance at us, and I stare in revulsion at the posse's retreating backs for longer than needed. Jace's girlfriend stares up at him lovingly while he speaks to her, as though he's the most perfect thing to grace the earth.
I'm going to be sick.
My hatred towards Jace Conner, and that smug little walk and grin, grows more.
Jace Conner has a death wish, and he doesn't know it.
As they turn out of sight down the hallway, I feel the buzzing annoyance of my animal instincts hovering near the surface.
So close to breaking through. What's puzzling me more than necessary is where this sudden buzzing frustration comes from.
Is it the altercation? Do I just need to make it to the end of the day?
Maybe it's both. But one thing is certain. Today, my hatred for Jace Conner has doubled, and I'm tempted to skip the day.
I can't, though, because there's another test in the last period.
Oh joy!
I start toward Dale and Laken.
"Dale, I'm fine," Laken assures the alpha male who carefully cradles his head, tilting his chin this way and that seeking out possible injuries or bruising.
"You're sure? You took a hard fall."
Laken makes a sound of quiet exasperation though he enjoys having his mate fuss over him going by the sparkle in his eyes and the coloring at the tips of his ears. He takes hold of Dale's hand and presses a kiss to his palm.
Jealousy swirls in my chest. I'm in no rush to find my mate, but I dream of little moments like that. Where is my mate? I hope when I find them, it isn't after several years and that they're good to me.
"You worry too much. I might be small, but I'm not fragile. I got a little surprised with the push," Laken replies. He grabs his binder and stands. Dale follows, towering over his mate's small frame, his hand sliding up from Laken's waist and arm to the slender column of his neck.
"I'll walk you to class," Dale informs, but Laken, as per usual, denies the offer. "Laken –"
"Dale," he drawls pointedly. "I'm fine. Your class is on the other side of the school, isn't it?" Dale says nothing but it's at the tip of his tongue to argue. "Besides, Sky and I have the same class now. He can look out for me." He turns to me; eyebrows raised with expectation. "Right?"
"Sure," I assure, and he beams brightly. Dale is reluctant to let him go but yields nonetheless, knowing there's no winning against his mate.
"Okay. But if something happens –"
"You'll come find me," Laken finishes with a bright smile. "I know," he tacks on, sweetly fiddling with a binder page, cheeks flushing red. He goes redder when Dale kisses his cheek.
Fuck! I'm so jealous!
With Dale gone, I escort Laken to our next class.
"So, you and Dale are getting along well."
He blushes scarlet, hiding his face with the binder. "Yes. He's been really good to me. He's sweet."
One week before, Dale came running to us in a panic, looking as though he had just run over someone's dog.
He was flustered, red in the face, and stumbling over his words.
When he calmed down, he reported the details of the crime with a severe blush ravishing his face, the range of emotion in one minute alone startling us.
The Monolith is capable of displaying a simultaneous plethora of emotion.
He had bumped into Laken James. The same boy he had crushed on since childhood days. The same boy he had been sneaking glances at for months. They were mates by the bond which manifested around the time Laken turned sixteen. Old enough for the bond's manifestation.
Dale was a blushing, helpless mess. He worried about shooting himself in the foot, not at all knowing what he should say. He was certain he had blown all his chances because he had been the awkward one during that exchange.
Laken welcomed the bond with a sweet smile and said, "Looks like we're mates. Shall we give it a try?"
And then, Dale said his brain short-circuited and he ran away from Laken leaving him flustered and shocked.
We talked him around to reciprocating and ever since, the fated pair have spent almost every day together. They have grown closer and look better together.
"Beginning to develop feelings for him then?"
Laken shrugs. "I don't know. I like being around him and spending time with him. He treats me good, and I feel safe with him."
"Sounds like you're developing a crush."
Laken scoffs in blatant denial. It's clear that he feels something for Dale and it's strong as hell. "That hardly qualifies as having a crush. I feel safe around my brothers, and they aren't mean to me. So, I like hanging out with them whenever they're free. See?"
It's my turn to shrug.
"Dale is your future alpha and your mate. There's only one kind of relationship you two can have. Besides, guys like us are prideful, possessive beings."
"Don't you mean you possess overly inflated self-esteems?"
I gasp dramatically, placing a on my chest, on the opposite side of where my heart is. "You wound me, Laken. I thought we were friends."
He rolls his eyes and chuckles as we approach our next class. My mood, however, does a complete one-eighty the second I cross the threshold.
I hear their voices before I see them, the slight improvement of mood exploding faster that a Coke and Mentos explosion. I seek out the rowdy bunch habitually, ready to hate and wish foul curses upon them.
The class is in chaos as students talk over the other, wasting time away texting on their phones with the teacher yet to arrive.
Some of the jocks are rowdy as usual, tossing a football back and forth.
Others flirt with their girlfriends, while one or two jostle and harass students who want to be left alone.
Laken walks ahead, careful to navigate past the jocks up and about like they own the place, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a boy from the football team scampering up front to catch the ball his friend threw from the back. Laken makes it unscathed and settles at a desk near the back.
I follow the instinct to protect the second half of my pack's future alpha couple.
"Guys check who it is!" Brent Harper hollers. "Sissy-boy and his boyfriend."
Laken shrinks away in irritation and embarrassment.
He's still getting used to the idea of being fated to a future alpha.
Being the center of attention comes with the gig, but not like this.
He somehow seems to curl smaller into himself as members of Jace's posse turn their heads with the expectation to witness a commotion.
Of course, Jace is in this class too but much to my preference, his girlfriend isn't. It irritates me like nothing ever has the way Jace Conner sits, prim and smug, like a king observing his loyal subjects serving him entertainment.
I try to push him out of mind. For some reason, I'm more on edge around him, which is odd because once Jace is out of sight, he's usually forgotten. I don't give a damn about him so, for the life of me, I can't understand why he irritates me like a horrible itch.
I turn my focus elsewhere. To Bigmouthed Piles who tossed the first stone.
"If it had been Laken's boyfriend standing here, you'd be dead, Harper. You and your best friend because he was ready to kill you two." And because I am a nice person, I say it with a friendly smile.
A chuckle echoes and annoyance explodes within as I turn to glare my animosity down at Jace.
Blast him and his stupid, perfect dirty blond hair and pretty green eyes! His face is annoying.
He is not helping my mood because much as Jace irritates me, I can't help but notice some of the smaller details about him that I find myself appreciating.
Like the shape of his mouth and that pouty bottom lip.
Those green eyes sparkling with flecks of amber in the morning light.
The soft tousle of his blond hair that gives him a charmingly boyish appearance.
Fuck him.
"Got something to say to me, Conner?" I challenge. Jace laughs, the sound stoking a primal fire buried deep within.
The sadist in me wants Jace to reciprocate. It wants to hear what foul words of condemnation he would spit. I'll take pride in taming that fiery side. But the other part just wants him to look at me and say something. No matter what it is.
It comes with a fierce desire unlike anything I could have imagined. Like a small fire that licks and laps at firewood in the hopes to burn bright and out of control.
I take a calming breath. This desire came from nowhere. And now, it's difficult to ignore.
"Your friend should've known better than to stand in my way. Or did he forget who I am?" Jace retorts with a smug grin. His head flops to the side in boredom.
The conflicting feelings of desire and hatred rage on.
I smirk and close the distance between us, my large frame towering over him. And I see it. That flutter of something other than irritation flitting across his face. His pupils dilate, and I my mind reels, control almost slipping. I relish the madness.
It's only the two of us. The noise from other students mesh together into a monotonous sound fading into nothingness.
"Don't get a big head, Conner. You only have status in this school.
Your parents might contribute donations to the school but don't think for one second that it means something.
As soon as you graduate high school, your relevancy is going to plummet.
Nobody is going to care who you are, and you'll end up like ninety-nine percent of the people in this town. Irrelevant."
Jace bears no reaction. At least not externally but I sense a definite shift inside him. The dilation of his eyes takes on a bout of fear that grows prominent.
It strokes my ego, watching the fight beginning to wane.
"And the one percent?" he prods.
"People like Laken and I are the one percent. Born and raised that way. You're nothing. Don't you know about people who peak in high school? In a few years, no one will care what happens to you. You'll be forgotten."
Jace says nothing. He turns in his chair and looks out the window, keeping his expression neutral.
"Got nothing to say to me now, Conner?"
"Leave me alone," he mutters in a tone lacking conviction.
"Did I damage your fragile ego?" I taunt, feigning empathy and immediately regretting it. Jace turns to look at me with melancholic and misty eyes.
"Leave me the fuck alone, asshole!" he suddenly rages. He stands and roughly shoves at my shoulder to create some space.
That simple contact is all it takes for everything to come crashing down and for the missing pieces I've been searching for all morning to fall into my hands.
Electrical sparks ignite from where we made contact, setting off a fire that surges through the rest of my body. The signals go straight to my heart, creating an eternal invisible thread that binds us together before going to my brain to shoot the final pieces together.
In my mind, his face is imprinted. I suddenly recognize him. I know his name as someone other than Jace Conner, captain of the basketball team. I know him as someone else entirely.
It explains the mood swings. It explains why those animal instincts hover closely to the surface in his presence. It's the primal clash between human and animal instinct – the human half wanting to hate and cast out the possibility, while the primal half only wants to claim.
In my heart, I become aware of him, and sensitive to every fluctuation in the energy shrouding him. Since he's human, it'll be difficult to catch a read on his emotions unless whatever he feels is strong enough.
And they are strong.
Jace Conner is my mate.
I've found him.
My other half. The one meant to be mine for all my life.
Jace is stunned by the electrical shock that reverberates through his body, and though he can't comprehend its meaning, he knows that deep down, something has changed.
Something within has changed. His confusion shows as clear as day, but he will soon realize that this connection isn't easily broken.
He shakes his head and pushes around me. Without saying a word to the teacher who meets him at the doorway, demanding to know why he's leaving, Jace exits the classroom.
And he doesn't come back for the rest of the period.
Part of me wants to find him. To ask him if he truly is offended by what had been said and apologize because now that we are mates, I feel no different than a bully. Words could not be retracted but I mentally admit it to myself.
Jace Conner isn't a nobody. He will never be a nobody. He's mine.
He is not irrelevant and after high school, his relevancy isn't going to plummet.
Having been born into a wealthy and influential family, I hold the respect of a lot of people.
Marcana is Jasper Falls royalty, the first pack here that started development, our ancestors had half the town in their name before Crescent Hill showed up.
The 'Daniels' name is one of the founding families. Just like the McKenzie, Hayes, and Stone titles from which Dale, Carter, and Asher hail, respectively.
Being fated to a higher up and a member of town royalty would put Jace in the spotlight. He'll gain Marcana's respect, and with it, receive all the spoils that the family's money could buy.
But I won't give in that easily. There's tension between us and Jace is a bully. As my mate, his actions will impact the family's name and reputation, and the honor that comes with the social status.
I have to think of something fast before we both end up miserable. As much as I want to ignore the bond and stay away, I'll grow restless from distance and lack of intimacy. Most Weres, after the bond manifests, cannot resist the pull unless they don't care at all or are welcoming a slow suicide.
And I have too much to live for.
If I stay away and ignore the bond, it will affect Jace too and he wouldn't understand what it means. I would drive myself insane from not having him close, where he is safe.
Ah!
Trouble, trouble.
Life was much easier before.
Rejection is a possible theory. It's practical, but taboo, and never before done in my family.
Possible being the operative word. Saying the words to sever the bond is easy as pie. It's the aftermath that will bring chaos to us both. Even if Jace doesn't understand the meaning behind the words, he will feel the pain of the dying bond. He'll feel like half his soul is missing.
I don't want to put him through that.
Granted, he knows nothing about werewolves. He's one of the na?ve humans in town who thinks that his species is the only apex predator living in this world.
It would be fun to pop his little bubble.
Or maybe I can try talking to him like a decent person for once. Since that day in kindergarten when he pushed me into a puddle of muddle, ours have been a grudge match that's never lost its fire.
I need advice. I'm heading to lunch and my friends will be there. Hopefully, they can offer something useful.
On the way out of the cafeteria to the lunch benches outside, I catch Jace's eye from across the room. Candy-apple green with a sweep of mussed up blonde hair on his head, he looks every bit as distracting as he is delectable.
He's with his group of friends, the loud and rowdy bunch of popular idiots. His arm is slung around his girlfriend's shoulders, but his attention is preoccupied elsewhere. His glare follows, and I'm certain he's drumming up a plan of retaliation.
It's the norm at school. Those who get on the wrong side of the popular posse often face backlash and an ambush twice as terrible than what they could anticipate.
I would like to see them try.
I shoot Jace a gloating smirk which has the desired reaction.
His scowl deepens, and he's first to look away, returning his attention to the rowdy group while I join my friends at one of the picnic benches.
It's situated on a rectangular plot of green lawn that holds twelve benches long enough to seat eight people. There, I find Carter, Dale, and Laken.
Asher is absent and I wonder if his absence has to do with this morning's incident.
I need to smoothen things over now that I know for certain Asher has feelings – real feelings – for me.
We both have mates out there, and Asher has yet to find his.
It would be a devastating blow for his mate to find him and then discover that Asher possesses feelings for another.
"I have a problem," I blurt, dropping the lunch tray onto the table, the dramatic entrance grabbing the trio's attention. Carter lifts his fist for a fist-bump greeting.
It's nice to see him calm. He's back to his laid-back attitude that we're familiar with, the same attitude that makes people love him.
"That's obvious," Dale drawls. "You've been pissy all morning."
Dale's tiny mate crumbles with laughter, leaning against his shoulder for support.
Dale is the kind of person who isn't nonchalant, but he often keeps his thoughts to himself and hardly shows emotion to the general public.
He prefers an intimate circle of friends he can depend on and meaningful conversations.
While Laken is kind of quiet, he isn't afraid to speak his mind and he's sociable enough to enjoy meeting people.
It's refreshing to see someone come around and break Dale out of his stoic demeanor.
It's strange how it happened. Dale and Laken have known each other their entire lives but because of the difference in rank within the pack, that Dale is of the alpha bloodline and Laken from a subordinate warrior rank, they've hardly exchanged words save a few conversations throughout the years.
But it's been enough for Dale to develop a crush.
It ignites a spark of jealousy in me – their lighthearted, playful interactions.
I want that with my own mate.
"Whatever," I mutter, taking an unnecessarily large bite out of the hamburger.
"Sky?" Laken calls softly. He's got a lopsided grin, and his head is tilted in invitation for conversation. "What's wrong?"
He'll make an excellent alpha. I can already tell.
I plop the sandwich down with an exasperated huff. "I found my mate," I announce with a roll of the eyes for extra measure because it's that upsetting.
Laken is thrilled by the news. Dale maintains a stoic but curious disposition, and Carter raises an eyebrow. Like the others, he notices that something is off.
"You don't seem particularly thrilled," he points out earning a gruff growl in acknowledgement. Carter sticks his food-covered tongue out. I scrunch my nose in fake disgust.
"How can I be when my mate is Overlord Douche?"
Carter frowns. "Brent Harper is your mate?"
"What?" The suggestion is absurd, and I'm appalled that such a crude thought would cross his mind. "What the fuck? No! That's fucking disgusting."
"Oh? Then who?" Carter hoots, confusion written over his face – scrunched eyebrows and all. Laken's dramatic gasp captures the group's attention.
He points a finger at me. "I knew it! Jace is your mate, isn't he? I figured as much when you two were biting each other's heads off in class this morning, and then when he pushed you. That was it, wasn't it?"
Dale and Carter turn to me, my silence giving the answer they're looking for.
I'm unhappy with what the bond has given me and question whether it would work.
Jace is a well-known bully who is friends with a group of people who have sticks up their butts about my own group.
For some reason, they hate us. It's been that way since elementary school and it might be frozen over in hell before Jace and I have a civilized conversation.
We can't have one of those now without thinking how much we irk each other.
"I approve of it," Carter admits quietly, smiling sheepishly at the look he receives. A promise of dire retribution.
"No offense, some days you're a complete asshole. It's no surprise you'll second it. Aren't you two friends, anyway?"
"Regardless of what you think, Jace and I have had conversations –"
"Ooh really?" I butt in with fake exasperation before he gets another word in. The human instincts are in dominant control. It rebukes any shred of information that is remotely nice about Jace Conner. "I imagine those to be deep, thought-provoking conversations."
Carter is hardly amused. "Listen, you condescending prick," he blurts, though there is no trace of anger, "we've had meaningful conversations, and I can say with certainty that what we see is a fa?ade ninety percent of the time. He's an okay guy."
I need to see it to believe it. What does he have to hide anyway?
Being born into a prominent family allows me access to information most others don't have.
Jace's parents are doctors in different disciplines. His mother is a psychotherapist, and his father works at the local hospital and has his own private practice.
Jace is living a good life.
Or does he have issues because Mommy and Daddy aren't around to cater to his fragile ego when they're busy saving lives and making money?
"You should talk to him," Laken suggests. "What you said to him was messed up. He probably feels something and doesn't understand it," he says with an encouraging grin. "Be the bigger person."
I'm stung by the deception, unwilling to believe Laken will let things slide so easily. He's no push over so it doesn't make sense. "You chose Jace Conner over me? How dare you?" He shakes his head. "I'm not apologizing for jack-shit until he apologizes to you. You could've gotten hurt."
Laken purses his lips, raising an eyebrow. "But I didn't. Besides, if Dale can let it go, you should too."
"I've gotten over it," Dale assures. "It might not be that bad having a human mate."
It's a matter of three against one. I'm outnumbered and weighing the pros and cons because that damn asshole just used my own words against.
"It won't be that bad," I had told Dale when convincing him to pursue Laken. "You'll have everything you wanted."
Carter and Jace are friends. If he says that Jace isn't so bad, I'm inclined to believe him.
Dale has a point, too. Rejection is taboo in our culture though there are those who do it anyway. Such a thing has never occurred in the Daniels family, and I'd hate to be the one to break a generational practice. Giving the bond a chance is the least I could do.
"Fine. I'll talk to him. Maybe tomorrow."