School was torture. Every student can relate to this (if not you're probably one of the popular kids or some super human). For me high school was a different kind of hell. I was a weak nerdy werewolf surrounded by other teenaged werewolves and humans. I didn't just get your normal bullying- I got the supernatural version too.

That included among others three broken fingers- for being 'a know it all' in class, insects of different species finding their way into my sandwiches and of course, getting rejected by my soul mate. Who hates my guts. Which was fine because the feeling was mutual.

Anyway, with my heinous experience with high school behind me, I was a lot more optimistic to start college. Turn a fresh page.

Newbury College was still in Seattle though, meaning it was inevitable that I'd see the same kids that used to bully me. But I figured the snobs would be so busy with their new obligations that I could ghost through my classes undisturbed. Get my degree in Fine Arts, start a career as a comic artist and get paid well enough to rent my dream apartment for me and my mom.

And I was right, during my first few days my usual crowd of tormentors left me alone. As for my other headache, he hadn't bothered me in either, hadn't even glanced my way. College must've been so much work even Kane forgot I existed. Peaceful life, here I come.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I was heading to my morning art class which was located inside the two-story blue building on the edge of campus. One moment I was strolling along, the building in sight and the next it wasn't there. Two hands pulled me from behind- shoved me into a narrow space. The area between the cafeteria wall and the art branch. Out of sight from the public eye, an ideal spot for a murder to occur without any witnesses.

I tensed, mind focusing on the feel of the knife in my pocket. I was about to pull it out when I caught the scent of my assailant, pine and cologne.

Kane had my wrist entrapped in his calloused hand, his body only a few steps away from mine. Close enough I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering, drinking in his appearance. Short hair dark as sin, skin a few shades tanner from the summer vacation under the Miami sun. But the tan was the only thing the Miami sun had managed to warm apparently. His artic eyes and frosty demeanor remained unchanged. His features were icy, sculpted perfection.

Despite myself, I felt my heart beat pick up speed. The traitor knew we were near him. My fingers itched, wanting to reach out, feel, touch what was supposed to be mine. The thought brought down a wave of revulsion over me. I clenched my hands into a fist. Like hell I'd touch him.

And perhaps it was the anger at my attraction for someone who loved to hurt me, or maybe I was still running on the high from last night's fight, either way, I couldn't stop the words that slipped out of my lips.

"Only three days into college and you've already got me in a dark alley, Wilder?"

His fist slammed into the wall besides my head.

The flicker of resilience died out, snuffed out by my old friend. Fear. Ear ringing, I lowered my gaze to his boots, a submissive gesture. He dropped my hand, took my chin and pulled it gruffly upwards to meet his molten gaze.

My heart skipped for a different reason now. Werewolves' eyes changed to amber whenever they were on the edge of violence. A fist in the wall was only a drop in the ocean if he really lost control.

"Remember who you're speaking to, omega," he hissed.

A pause. His fingers tightened around my jaw.

I flinched. "I'm sorry."

He had power over me and he knew it, not just because he was the alpha's son. Kane was a dominant werewolf of his own right, a fact he never failed to make known. Yet there was something different in his eyes today, a tinge of fear? It was gone before I could confirm it was really there though.

"Much better," he muttered, a finger drifting from my cheek to my neck. A touch one could mistake for a caress, if it hadn't stopped at my pulse, pressing almost painfully there. "You spoke to Fred Keaton yesterday in class."

"He borrowed my paints," I whispered, staring at his collarbone. I couldn't hold his gaze, not when he was edgy.

The rest of his hand drifted lower until he had it around my neck. One squeeze enough to snap it.

"You don't speak to anyone in school, or do you need reminding?"

"What?" I gasped, giving him an incredulous look. "We're in college now. How do you expect me to-"

"You speak to no one. No. One," he growled, his expression suddenly feral. I got a glimpse of his sharpened canines, winced at the graze of claws on my skin.

"I won't."

The promise was stupid and not at all rational, but then again bullies never did things rationally. It didn't matter to me, at this point I'd say anything to get his claws off of me.

It worked. His expression smoothed, amber orbs cooling over as he stepped away from me. I breathed out, hating the way I had to lean against the wall for support.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" I asked.

"Because you're mine," he replied coolly.

"You don't want me," I muttered.

He stuffed his hands in his jeans and tilted his head at me. "I don't."

He turned, sauntered away. My knees buckled the moment he was gone. I took out my knife, grasping it in my trembling hands.

I went over the encounter in my head. Created different versions. Every one of them ending with me gutting him, over powering him, standing up to him. Any scenario besides this one.

It didn't stop the sobs.

***

My day was ruined.

I skipped class for fear anyone would see my bloodshot eyes, plus Kane and I shared the same class and I'm not sure I could stay composed in the same room as him right now.

Dejectedly, I skulked my way to the small garden at the side of campus, took out my sketch pad and drew flowers. I narrowed my thoughts on the way my fingers moved over the paper, smooth, light. Tiny scribbles slowly turning into something alive. Nature was elegant chaos, messy but orderly- so unlike my life.

I threw my pencil into a bush.

Sighing, I flopped backwards onto the grass.

Calm down, Ember. Let nature heal you.

The air was indeed pleasant, cool and sweetened by the lilies and roses. The leaves of the orange trees moved with the wind, a soothing rustling. The garden was always like this, lovely- but empty.

I guess this was my new hangout.

In high school my hiding place had been the library, but here people actually used it. Which meant it was compromised. I didn't think I even needed a hiding place anymore.

I stared up, imagined the sky a map. My fingers traced the shape of its inhabitants, searching for the answers I couldn't find below.

You speak to no one.

What was he trying to achieve with that order? To single me out further? Because I wasn't as dominant as him, I was not only unworthy of him but of the rest of the pack too?

My mom and I were one of the few omegas in our pack, meaning we were the weakest werewolves in our entire territory- but all pack members were obligated to look after us. The strong took care of the weak and that was just werewolf instinct. Mostly. Teenage werewolves operated under their own code.

I could understand why young wolves might push around someone weaker than them- humans did the same thing- but I've never heard of a werewolf rejecting a mate because they were an omega. Dominant wolves loved looking after those weaker than them.

Or maybe it was because Kane was from a dominant family that was entirely better off than mine. Everyone knew we were barely getting by. My mom worked the night shifts at a diner and the only way I even managed to save up for college was by spending my free time knocking out men older than me by decades. Not many people knew that though.

Still, I couldn't understand why Kane wanted so badly to isolate me. To deprive me of comradeship? Werewolves were social creatures. We survived in packs, hunted together, ran together. It's where we belonged. Even lone wolves had to settle down once in a while.

I scowled. Obsessing over Kane and his actions was something I had promised myself I'd stop doing. I was starting this year anew. I was in college and I'd made it out of high school- battered- but alive. More importantly, without many friends or pack interaction. What did I care if I didn't talk to anyone now too?

My pack was my mom and my best friend, Ian. Those two were enough. Always were and always will be.

"You appear to be in a foul mood."

I sat up with a start, relaxed when I saw who it was.

Aster poured a cup of tea, her silk dress glittering silver against the lush grass. She raised her head, once again striking me with her inhuman beauty. Her lips were a deep wine red, large doe eyes covered with thick eyelashes. Her high cheekbones were as sharp as the white sword she kept strapped to her side, silver gown long. It was held at the waist by an emerald corset that matched her eyes, flowing out in a sparkling flurry of silk.

She handed me a cup, mint tea by the smell of it. I accepted it.

"Thank-" I stopped, recalling her warning about thanking faeries. One thank you could put you in their debt until you died. Not the way I wanted to spend the rest of my life. "You need to stop popping up like that," I grumbled instead.

She sipped her own tea, a few strands of dark curls coming undone from her pony tail. She tucked it behind a pointed ear. "I was passing by when I scented you. You are disturbed. Who must I kill?"

Her tone was serious but I laughed regardless. "I doubt it's a great idea to kill my alpha's son."

A raised eyebrow. "That fool of a man is still bothering you?"

"No, not exactly. It's really nothing but me overreacting," I rushed out, feeling stupid for being caught moping over him. "I was only wondering why he acts the way he does." For the hundredth time.

Aster scoffed. "Do not waste your time wondering anything. If he does not want you, there are others out there that do."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "Easy for you to say, you're the beautiful magical faerie who has men fighting over her like crazy."

Her lips twisted upwards, probably remembering how we met. I was in the woods jogging when I found her and another faerie in the middle of a sword fight. The man was winning, but only because he'd poisoned her. I hadn't known at the time. All I saw was a struggling wounded woman and I grabbed the largest rock nearby, chucked it at the dude's head. Sent him to dream land right away.

Afterwards Aster had told me he'd been fighting for her hand in marriage, using underhanded tactics. As a token of gratitude she'd given me the flower he'd used to poison her in a glass case. Moral of the story, faeries gave weird presents.

"You over exaggerate." She waved a hand dismissively. "I'll have you know, my brother has expressed interest in you."

I raised my brows in surprise.

If her brother was anything like her then he definitely wouldn't be interested in me.

I wouldn't call myself ugly but I wasn't exactly pretty either. I wasn't fat but my hips always felt too wide and so I usually hid behind sweats and baggy t-shirts. My face was slightly round, my eyes a chestnut shade darker than my skin. My long dark braids were always down to cover part of my face, like the round glasses I still wore despite not needing them anymore. And they weren't the stylish glasses that made me look like a sexy nerd, they were the old fashioned granny kind. I certainly wasn't the princess to any prince charming.

I gave her a speculative look that conveyed my thoughts. "I've never met him."

"He has occasionally glimpsed you on my visits here," she said. "I could arrange a meeting if you wish."

A blind date with a faerie?

"No," I sighed, downing the rest of my tea. It had cooled off while we talked. "I won't meet another guy to make me feel better about Kane."

She took my empty cup, set it down with hers. They disappeared into the grass. "Yet you fight in that cage for the exact same reason."

I blushed. "I need the money." Half the truth.

She leaned towards me, brushed a braid away from my face. She smelled of sweet fruit and steel. "Leave those barbaric fights behind and join me in faerie. I will teach you the art of the sword and more honorable ways to fight. You, Ember Yale, are much more than what you settle for. Let me give you that."

"As a faerie striking a bargain?"

"As a faerie helping a lost friend."

I took her slim hand, squeezed it. "I'll think about it."

We both knew the real answer behind my words, no.

She didn't comment on it. She stood up. "A man who does not know your worth is unworthy of your thoughts."

She vanished with the next gust of wind.

I plucked a flower, twirled it between my fingers. What if I wasn't the worthy one?