I was beyond frustrated today, and I knew being at school wasn’t going to help my situation in any way. All I could think about were the answers I desperately needed. There were only two explanations for what was happening to me: either I was going insane, or I was turning into some cliché version of an alien.
I dragged myself into my fourth class of the day, which was Literature. The moment I stepped into the room, I nearly choked when I spotted one of the seniors Bryan and I had seen last Saturday at the restaurant.It was Jake ....I groaned remembering ur last encounter. 'What is he doing in my class?' I thought, wide-eyed, as I made my way to my desk in the middle of the room. Damn, the guy was hot—seriously, why did he have to be so attractive?
I could literally feel his gaze burning holes into the back of my skull, and it made my entire body feel warm, almost uncomfortably so. Thank God, Mr. Huggins, our teacher, walked in before I could embarrass myself further.
“Good morning, students,” Mr. Huggins began, his voice steady as he adjusted his glasses. “Today, we’ll be conducting a critical analysis of the poem *RedWolf*. Our very own senior poetry expert, Mr. Jake Adams, will be assisting us today.” As soon as Mr. Huggins finished speaking, the entire class erupted into applause, and I couldn’t help but notice how every girl seemed to light up as if they’d just won backstage passes to see Justin Bieber or something. High school life was so cliché—there was always that one guy every girl drooled over.
I glanced around and saw that some of them were practically drooling—literally. And for some reason, that irritated me. Something deep within me twisted with a strange possessiveness, a sudden urge to claw their eyes out for ogling him. Yup, I was definitely starting to question my sanity. This had to be the first step toward madness.
After Literature ended, I hurried out of the classroom, determined to avoid Jake at all costs. There was something about him that made me feel... unsettled. Nervous, shy, heated, and excited all at once. It was as if my body couldn’t decide how to react around him, and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if he tried to talk to me. Honestly, if he ever said ‘hi’ to me, I’d probably faint right on the spot. What sort of sorcery was this?
As I speed-walked toward the locker room, hoping to disappear from Jake’s radar, I heard a voice again—the same mysterious voice that had haunted me for days now. It sent shivers down my spine. ‘What now?’ I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes. After an internal debate that lasted all of thirty seconds, I decided to follow the voice, hoping that maybe it would lead me to the answers I was so desperately seeking. Besides, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do, and maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t losing my mind. Hopefully, this wouldn't lead to my untimely death, like in those cliché horror movies where the clueless girl follows the creepy noises.
The voice led me straight to the school basement. 'Of course, the creepy basement,' I thought with a sigh. I was really starting to hate this place; it felt like something straight out of a bad teen horror flick. There was obviously something "off" about it, and every fiber of my being screamed at me to turn around and leave. But curiosity, and maybe a bit of stubbornness, kept me going.
“Is anyone here?... I guess it’s just me then,” I called out, my voice echoing in the emptiness. I looked around, taking in the dimly lit space, and nearly jumped out of my skin when the door behind a rickety old chair creaked open on its own. 'That definitely didn’t happen last time,' I thought, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Hesitantly, I approached the door and entered slowly, waiting by the entrance just in case it slammed shut like in every horror movie ever.
Beyond the door was a long, dark corridor that stretched on forever. The whole place felt like a dungeon, and the air was heavy, almost suffocating. I shivered, rubbing my arms for warmth as I cautiously made my way down the passage. After what felt like an eternity, I began to wonder if this corridor had any end at all. This was a bad idea. I was sure of it.
Then, finally, I heard real voices—male voices—and decided to follow them, even though every rational part of my brain screamed that this was beyond stupid. But I had to know. I needed proof that I wasn’t losing my mind.
I reached the end of the corridor and pressed myself against the wall, eavesdropping on their conversation. “The Alpha is her protector, and he’s a hybrid! We need to warn Master Jasper about the Alpha’s return!” the first voice hissed urgently.
I gasped softly, my heart racing. 'Alpha? Hybrids?' What on earth were they talking about? Was this some sort of code language, or had I stumbled into a secret werewolf society meeting? None of this made any sense.
I dared to peek through the slightly open door, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was speaking, and I almost screamed when I saw what was inside. Shadows danced around the room, and I could make out strange symbols glowing faintly on the walls. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest, but before I could react, a strong hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my scream.
Sparks shot up my skin from the contact, and, oddly enough, it felt good—comforting even. But panic surged through me as I was dragged to a hidden corner. I began kicking and thrashing, desperate to break free, until the person spun me around to face him.
“Jake?”
“Don’t make a sound,” he warned, his stormy grey eyes boring into mine. I nodded, taking in a shaky breath, my heart pounding against my ribs. Why was he here, and how much did he know?
“What the hell?” I managed to whisper, my face flushed from how close he was to me. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or something else entirely.
“Follow me and stay close, okay?” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. There was something about the way he spoke that felt so... dominating. And what was worse, I felt compelled to obey him. I told myself it was just my survival instinct kicking in, but deep down, I knew there was more to it.
“First, tell me what’s going on! What are you doing here?” I demanded, keeping my voice low, but he only shook his head.
“If you want to live, you’ll stop talking and follow my orders,” he snapped. He began walking, and despite my irritation, I trailed behind him, unwilling to risk my life over a petty argument.
Who did he think he was, giving me orders without so much as an explanation? I promised myself that once we were out of this mess, I would demand answers—and I wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.