Chapter 2 Two
Harper’s POV
“I’m getting married,” my mother repeated, and I realized I had been holding my breath the entire time. My chest tightened as the words sank in.
“You… you’re joking, right?” I asked, my voice shaky, my eyes narrowing on her face for even the smallest sign that this was all some kind of cruel joke. But there was nothing. She wasn’t joking.
Her expression stayed serious, almost confused, like she couldn’t understand why I was reacting this way.
I started pacing the room, my fingers tugging at each other nervously. My breaths came fast. “No, Mother. Tell me you’re joking. You have to be joking, right?” My voice grew higher, desperate, and the more I paced, the more I felt the ground tilting under me.
“Harper, calm down,” she said softly, reaching for me.
But her voice was muffled in my ears, drowned out by the pounding of my heart. I couldn’t process her words. All I could hear was I’m getting married, I’m getting married—like a cursed echo.
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, shoving her hand away the moment it brushed my arm. My eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall.
“You want to get married?” I asked again, disbelief lacing every word. My throat tightened around the question.
Her face softened, but her frown deepened. “You need to calm down, Harper. It isn’t what it seems like.”
I let out a bitter laugh, scoffing so hard it hurt. “Not what it seems like? What does it seem like then, Mother?!” I yelled, my voice trembling, my chest heaving.
She sighed, her shoulders sagging, before she dared to walk closer. Her hand hovered in the air like she wanted to touch me again but didn’t know if she should.
“Listen to me, Harper. This man… he is nothing like that monster, Alpha Derrick, okay?”
Her words pierced through me like glass. So there was another man. I wasn’t imagining it. My stomach twisted as questions flooded me. When? How? Why hadn’t she told me?
“He’s kind,” she continued, her voice soft but firm. “He’s confident. He’s caring. He isn’t like Derrick—I promise you, Harper.”
I stared at her, searching for cracks in her words, but she looked so sure, so determined, that it only made my anger boil hotter.
“I assure you, he doesn’t have any wife,” she said quickly, as if that would calm me. “And yes… he’s a widower. He’s lost before. He understands pain, Harper. He understands what it means to build again.”
Her voice broke, and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around me despite my stiffness.
“I promise… we will be happy with him,” she whispered, her breath trembling against my hair.
I stood frozen in her embrace, my heart racing. My arms dangled at my sides, refusing to hug her back. Her warmth felt foreign. I wanted to believe her, I wanted to think she was right… but a part of me screamed that we were walking into another nightmare.
Because men like Derrick didn’t just disappear. They had different names. Different faces. Different lies.
And I wasn’t ready to watch my mother break again.
She was long gone to talk to, my mother was insufferable when she was in love, and no words could convince her not to do what she wanted.
“You will meet him this weekend, alright? I promise you’re going to love him,” she had assured me.
But I knew she was lying. I would never accept any man as my father. Never.
If only my father was still alive, none of this would be happening. We wouldn’t have to run from clan to clan, we wouldn’t have to bow our heads to people like Derrick, and my mother wouldn’t be clinging desperately to the arms of another man.
My chest tightened with a bitterness I couldn’t shake.
My mother had pulled away from our hug with a smile, her eyes bright with a hope I couldn’t share. “Oh—I forgot to tell you, your new uniform is here,” she had said with excitement.
And then she was gone again, leaving me in my room with the silence pressing down on me like a weight.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Who was this man she was so determined to throw into our lives? A stranger. That’s all he would ever be to me. And as long as I was alive, she would never marry him.
—
The next morning came too quickly. I got ready for school in silence, knotting my hair in front of the small mirror. My thoughts still lingered on last night, on her words that twisted like a knife in my chest.
The door burst open.
“Harper, you need to get ready or you’ll be late—” my mother stopped mid-sentence when our eyes met.
Her expression softened, a sigh escaping her lips. “I see you’re almost done. I… I made you breakfast,” she offered gently.
I turned back to the mirror, refusing to answer. The brush in my hand trembled slightly, but I clenched my jaw and forced myself to look composed.
Her voice grew quieter. “Harper… I know you’re angry. But please, try to understand. I just want us to be happy again.”
I didn’t reply. Happiness had died the day my father did.
I wasn’t going to speak to her. She never wanted to listen to me, so why should I waste my words on her?
I heard her footsteps retreating, the soft click of the door closing behind her. Silence filled the room again, heavy and suffocating.
“Listen, Harper, today is a new day… a new opportunity for you to make a fresh start,” I muttered to myself as I sprayed a little cologne across my neck. The cool mist grounded me. Sliding on my glasses, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
The same nerdy look. The same quiet, invisible girl. Maybe that’s why I was bullied so badly at my last school. People had seen weakness in me and pounced. Not this time.
With a sharp exhale, I tore the glasses off and set them on the table. If they were going to see me, it wouldn’t be as the weak Harper.
When I stepped out into the hallway, the smell of food lingered in the air. My mother had left a plate of breakfast waiting for me on the small dining table, her silent olive branch. I ignored it and made my way toward the door.
Just as my hand touched the knob, her voice caught me.
“Harper.”
I froze.
“I know you’re mad at me,” she said softly from behind me. “But take this, please, with you.”
Her tone cracked, a fragile note that almost made me turn around. Almost. I wanted to ignore her, to let her know how much her choices were breaking me. But then she whispered again—
“Please.”
The word lingered in the air. Against my better judgment, I turned halfway, reached out, and snatched the box from her hand without looking at her face.
Then I walked out.
—
For twenty minutes, I stood waiting at the bus stop, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My bag strap dug into my shoulder, the sun climbing higher, beating down mercilessly.
“Gosh,” I muttered under my breath. Every second felt longer than the last.
Finally, the bus screeched to a halt before me, brakes whining. Relief washed over me as the doors swung open. I rushed inside, slipping into a seat near the window.
I looked around and noticed a girl wearing the same uniform as me. Her long black hair fell across her shoulders, sleek and glossy, and she had earphones plugged in as she stared blankly out the window.
“Hello,” I tried, my voice soft but hopeful.
She slid one earbud out and turned her head lazily toward me. Her eyes flicked over me once, sharp and cold.
“What?” she asked bluntly, her tone cutting.
I gulped, suddenly regretting opening my mouth. “Nothing,” I muttered quickly, my eyes darting back to the other side of the bus.
She rolled her eyes before sliding her earphones back in. “Weirdo,” I heard her whisper under her breath.
Heat crawled up my neck, but I forced myself to stay calm. What a rude bitch. But no—nothing was going to ruin my day. Not her, not anyone.
I tried focusing my thoughts elsewhere, but they drifted back to my mother, to that damn ring on her finger. I was so lost in my storm of emotions that I almost didn’t notice when someone bumped into me.
“Sorry,” a woman mumbled before pressing the stop button and stepping off at the next stop.
The bus jolted again, and my phone buzzed with the school’s directions flashing on the screen. My eyes widened—I was already close.
Panic rushed through me. What if I was late? On the first day?
I quickly pressed the stop button and squeezed my way to the front as the bus hissed to a halt. The doors opened and I bolted out, running down the street with my bag thumping against my side.
The building loomed ahead, massive and intimidating, its iron gates already sliding shut. My heart pounded in my ears as I pushed my legs faster, breath sharp and heavy.
“Wait!” I yelled, though I wasn’t sure the guard even heard me.
At the very last second, I squeezed through the gap just before the gate closed, stumbling inside and clutching my chest. My lungs burned, but relief flooded me—I’d made it.
“Good morning,” I greeted the guard at the entrance.
He gave me a quick nod before swinging the heavy door shut behind me.
My eyes widened as I scanned my surroundings. The school looked nothing like the one I left behind—it was majestic, almost intimidating. Tall, polished walls, stained glass windows, staircases that spiraled upward like something out of a castle.
I squinted, my eyes twitching a little. I regretted leaving my glasses at home. The blur was faint, but enough to make me wish I had them on.
Inside, the corridors were alive. Students filled the space, chatting, laughing, moving in groups. I even spotted some of them casually showing their fangs while jumping over lockers as though it was normal. A smile tugged at my lips. No familiar faces. No bullies. Just a fresh start.
“Hey, are you new here?”
I turned to see a girl approaching me. She had sleek brunette hair that shone under the light and a slender figure that made her uniform look almost tailor-made.
I nodded.
“Oh, hello! Welcome to Elite High School. I’m Catherine, the school prefect,” she said with a polite smile, extending her hand.
I smiled back and shook it. “I’m Harper.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Harper.”
I opened my mouth to say more, but before I could, a low growl reverberated through the hall.
It was deep. Dangerous.
Students froze for a second before chaos broke out—people hurriedly stepping aside, running, whispering. The air thickened with tension.
“They’re coming!” someone shouted from behind me.
“They? Who’s they?” I asked, confusion dripping from my tone as I turned toward Catherine. But all I could see were students shifting frantically, blocking my view.
I tiptoed, craning my neck until I finally caught sight of two figures standing at the end of the corridor.
Two boys.
Their features were still hard to make out from where I stood, but their presence was undeniable—commanding, powerful, as if the entire hallway bent to them. The energy shifted, magnetic and terrifying all at once.
“What’s going on?” I asked Catherine, my voice trembling slightly.
“Well, you see—”
“Duck!”
The warning rang out too late. I turned just in time to see something flying straight toward me. A basketball.
Before I could react, it slammed against my face with a sickening thud.
Pain shot through my nose and cheeks, my head snapping back as my body lost balance.
I fell hard onto the polished floor, my bag slipping from my shoulder. My vision blurred, stars dancing at the edges of my eyes. Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd, but all I could hear was the pounding in my skull.
“Welcome to Elite High” .