Chapter 11 Eleven
It was the next morning when I arrived at school, and immediately, something felt… wrong.
Students lined the hallway like spectators at a show, their conversations dropping into whispers the moment I passed. Some stared openly. Others glanced at me and quickly looked away, like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Okay… what now?
I tightened my grip on my bag and kept walking, trying to ignore the crawling feeling on my skin. Then it hit me.
A strange wave rushed through me—sharp, overwhelming, and sudden. My breath caught as my senses exploded all at once.
Scents.
So many scents.
Perfume, sweat, metal, citrus, paper, soap—each one distinct, layered, crashing into me like a storm. I staggered slightly, my heart slamming against my ribs.
What the hell—
My hands began to tremble.
Did I just…?
Did I get my wolf?
The thought sent a jolt of panic and hope through me. Without thinking, I spun on my heel and hurried down the hallway, shoving open the restroom door and locking myself inside a stall.
I pressed my palms against the sink, staring at my reflection. My face looked the same—no glowing eyes, no marks, no visible change. Still, my heart raced.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself, forcing a shaky breath. “Let’s see if I’ve gotten my wolf.”
I concentrated, clenching my fists, willing something—anything—to happen. I pushed, the way I’d seen others do, the way people described when their claws emerged.
Nothing.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
I stared harder at my eyes. Brown. Normal. Painfully normal.
I searched inward, trying to feel for something—heat, presence, a pull—but there was nothing there. Just emptiness. Silence.
A hollow laugh escaped my lips.
“That’s sad.”
I froze.
My head snapped up, eyes wide, as I turned toward the sound.
I wasn’t alone.
A girl leaned casually against the tiled wall near the sinks, arms crossed, watching me with mild amusement. She had honey-blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
My heart jumped. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” she said with a shrug. “Trying to see if you’ve got your wolf?”
My stomach twisted. “How do you know that’s what I was doing?”
She pushed off the wall and walked toward me, her steps unhurried, confident. “Because I’ve seen that look before,” she said. “Hope mixed with fear. Happens a lot to late bloomers.”
Late bloomers.
That word stung.
She stopped in front of me and smiled—not cruelly, but not kindly either. Curious. Measuring.
“I’m Becky,” she said, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I hesitated before shaking it. “Harper.”
She nodded. “You must be new here.”
“Is it that obvious?” I muttered.
She laughed softly. “You don’t smell like the rest of us.”
My breath caught. “Smell?”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, like she’d just confirmed something. “Yeah. You smelled different when you walked in today.”
My heart skipped. “Different how?”
Becky tilted her head, studying me closely. “Like you can perceive scents now… but you don’t belong to any rank.”
My throat went dry.
“So I can smell,” I whispered. “But I still don’t have a wolf?”
“Looks like it,” she said bluntly.
I looked away, shame creeping up my spine. “Figures.”
Becky was quiet for a moment. Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“Just so you know,” she said, “this school doesn’t go easy on people who don’t fit into a category.”
I met her gaze again. “Is that a warning?”
Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Think of it as advice.”
The restroom door creaked open somewhere behind us, voices echoing in the hallway.
Becky straightened. “You should be careful, Harper,” she added softly. “Especially now.”
“Why now?” I asked.
She paused at the door, glancing back at me.
“Because once people realize you can sense them,” she said, “they’ll want to know why.”
And with that, she walked out, leaving me alone with my reflection—and a thousand questions pounding in my head.
Something had changed.
I just didn’t know yet whether it was a blessing…
Or the beginning of something much worse.
—
I was walking down the hallway when I spotted Koda and Kai from afar.
Great. Just great.
I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt and was about to turn in the opposite direction when something shifted inside me.
A warning.
It wasn’t a thought. It wasn’t logic.
It was instinct.
My chest tightened, and a strange pressure bloomed behind my eyes—sharp, urgent.
Something bad was coming.
I turned just in time to see it.
Eggs.
Flying straight toward me.
Gasps echoed around the hallway as students snickered, some pointing, others already lifting their phones. My heart jumped, but my body moved before fear could take over.
I dodged.
Quick. Clean. Almost too clean.
The egg missed me completely and splattered instead—right into Koda and Kai’s direction.
Splat.
Another egg followed.
Splat.
The hallway erupted.
Sticky yolk slid down Koda’s shoulder, dripping onto his pristine uniform. Kai froze mid-step, blinking as a cracked shell clung to his hair.
For one glorious second, there was silence.
Then—
“What the hell—?!” Kai barked.
Students rushed forward, voices overlapping, some laughing, others panicking.
“Oh my gosh, are they okay?!”
“Who threw that?!”
“Get tissues!”
I didn’t wait to see the rest.
A slow smile spread across my face as I adjusted my bag and walked past them, chin high, spine straight.
Victorious.
For once, it wasn’t me standing there humiliated.
People stared as I passed—some shocked, some impressed, some confused. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t shrink.
Not today.
“Hey, hey—someone looks happy today.”
I turned to see Catherine approaching, eyebrows raised, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Well, yeah,” I said casually, unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the chaos still unfolding behind us, then back at me.
“…Did you do that?”
I shrugged. “Did I?”
She laughed under her breath. “Remind me never to mess with you.”
—
Later, we were sitting on the bench near the handball pitch while two teams played aggressively under the afternoon sun. The sound of shoes squeaking against concrete and students shouting filled the air.
I sat beside Catherine, scrolling through my phone, half-listening as she rambled about classes and teachers.
Then the energy changed.
The air shifted again—like it had earlier in the hallway.
The crowd grew louder.
Screams erupted.
Excited. High-pitched. Almost hysterical.
I frowned. “I don’t understand why these people are screaming,” I muttered.
Catherine smiled knowingly. “Well… the hot five just came in.”
I looked up. “The what?”
She nodded toward the far end of the field. “The hottest guys in school. Koda and Kai included.”
I scoffed. “What I don’t get is why they have to scream like that.”
Catherine laughed. “You’re immune. That’s rare.”
Across the field, basketballs bounced sharply against the pavement as another game started on the adjacent pitch. Sure enough, Koda and Kai were there—on opposite teams.
Of course they were.
The moment Koda scored, the crowd exploded.
“KODA!”
“KODA!”
Cheers shook the air.
Kai scored next.
“KAI!”
“KAI!”
It was ridiculous.
I felt my eyes drift toward Koda before I could stop myself. Sweat darkened his collar, muscles flexing as he moved with effortless dominance.
Then—like he felt my gaze—he looked straight at me.
My breath hitched.
I snapped my eyes away instantly, heart pounding.
Nope. Not doing this.
I dropped my gaze to my phone, pretending to be invested in absolutely anything else.
I needed to stay away from them. Far away.
I was so focused on my screen that I barely registered the sudden shout.
“WATCH OUT!”
My head snapped up.
Too late.
A basketball came flying straight toward me, spinning fast, cutting through the air.
Time slowed.
I felt it again—that strange pull inside my chest. My body reacted before my mind did.
I raised my hands.
The ball slammed into my palms.
Hard.
The impact sent a sharp jolt up my arms, but I didn’t fall. Didn’t stumble.
I caught it.
The entire field went silent.
Dozens of eyes locked onto me.
I stared down at the ball in my hands, stunned.
I’d never been good at sports.
Never.
“What the hell…” Catherine whispered beside me.
Slowly, I looked up.
Koda had stopped mid-step, eyes narrowed, unreadable.
Kai wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Throw it back,” someone yelled.
I hesitated.
Then, without thinking, I turned and tossed the ball—clean, smooth, straight.
It landed perfectly at Kai’s feet.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
Kai bent, picked it up, and stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
Koda’s jaw tightened.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
The whistle blew, breaking the moment, and the game resumed—but the energy had changed.
I didn’t miss it.
Neither did they.
My heart raced as I sat back down, palms tingling faintly.
“What was that?” Catherine whispered.
I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
But deep down, I had a terrible feeling.
That wasn’t luck.
That wasn’t coincidence.
Something inside me was waking up.
And judging by the way Koda and Kai were watching me now—
They felt it too.