CHAPTER 5
MARCUS PIERCE

Good Lord I'm only seconds away from ripping his clothes out and take him right here in this room full of annoying students. His scent, a combination of pine scent and his natural man scent, is intoxicating; it's like a drug I just want to consume every so often. He's just meters away from me. Good Goddess, my mate is so handsome and beautiful and perfect and all I want to do is claim him, make him mine, mark him as mine.

Kyros, my wolf, is growling, pawing inside me, wanting to get closer to our mate. Sitting next to our mate, especially if our mate doesn't know that we are his mate, is kind of a torture. I mean, here I am, sitting next to my mate with nothing but hopeless stares and imaginations, knowing that he's not going to notice me because he thinks that he's straight and in love with his goddamn girlfriend. All I need is time – a time to get to know him more, to know what he really likes, to know everything about him even the smallest and most boring details of his life.

Earlier I introduced myself to the class and to him as Mark Pierson – how did I know that name? Simple. My sister has been calling me that ever since we were children because she thought, and always thinks, that it's better than Marcus Pierce. So thanks to my sister, who is happily married and mated to her soulmate, who happened to think of that name before I even realized that it would be useful someday.

When he introduced himself to me, I couldn't help but grin widely – I even had the guts to tease just a bit, just to test the water, and when he wasn't really annoyed by it, it just proved that he really is my mate and that he's going to be mine soon. So soon. That girlfriend of his just need to leave us alone, hopefully, for the rest of my stay here.

"So I heard that you're the guy who made fun of Ashley back in the hallway," a guy sitting next to me says. He leans down, totally ignoring the teacher who just threatened us that with the tip of her pen, they'd be working at McDonald's in the future. I love McDonald's. "No one does that to her but you did. Now you need to be careful. She's a mean bitch. It's like she's a complete rip-off Mean Girls. Watch your back, man. It doesn't matter if you're new, or a guy, no one fucks Ashley Matthews. Unless she lets you fuck her, then that's an exception."

"Okay, thanks for the warning, I guess," I say, shrugging, not really interested even a bit. I mean, I'm fine if she does something bad to me – I just hope Kyros would not take over and rip from limb from limb. But if she does something bad to my mate, then that's a different story. I'd be happy to rip her throat out, burn her until she turns into ashes, and sell those ashes to the most powerful demons so they could use it and hopefully revive her so I can fucking kill her again. Ashley Matthews can bitch me, or say anything mean to me and I couldn't care less, but if she lays a finger on my mate, I swear I'll do what I have to do. I'll break her bone by bone, limb by limb, and I don't mean sexually; I mean physically.

"You're cool, bro. Name's Jonathan." He whispers, offering his hand to me, his eyes flickering between me and Ms. Shitface while she's writing some formula on the board. I stare at his hand suspiciously, then decide to take it, realizing that he's just a human with no motives of exposing my secrets.

"Mark Pierson," I say, shaking my head.

With that he turns back to staring at Ms. Shitface while I tune her out as she speaks about using the formulas on how to solve this and that. Seriously Department of Education staff should rethink and re-construct their image – teachers are supposed to be teaching what's a real life waiting for them in the future, a life outside the school, a life outside these walls surrounding them, because believe me, once they get out of High School, most of them would still don't know how things really work. Motherfucking idiots. I swear when I get nerved up, I become wise, spewing shitty opinions that the mortals would never care. My best friends would never care as well. My sister only cares about my opinions. But she's at Nevermore Pack Land, and I don't want to go there just to tell her about my opinions about the Department of Education of humans.

The whole time I'm just staring at my mate and I'm pretty sure he can feel it, but he chooses to ignore it. Normally if mortal guys, like the straight ones, are being ogled at by another guy, they'd make it a big deal and comment about how they much want to throw out because it disgusts them (my old self would totally do that – but that was before and since I'm not an asshole now, I'll never do such a thing!) but here my mate is, completely ignoring me and not making this a big deal. Though it's making him uncomfortable because his scent gives it away, but that's fine. He'll get used to me.

As the bell rings, Ms. Shitface groans and comments about how she still wants to torture the students with more math formulas, which I will be horrified to see, and the students scramble around, shoving their things in their bags and getting out. While the students are hurrying, my mate seems to take the time and not in a hurry. His eyes keep flickering between his bag and to my direction and I suppress myself from letting out a big grin because Good Goddess he'd think I'm a weirdo. It's enough that I'm a creep into his eyes (hope it's temporary), but soon that would all change but I don't need another label that would come directly from him.

"Can you please stop that?" he murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. He refuses to look at me, taking all of the time in the world to fix what's inside his bag.

Blinking at him, I feign innocence and say, "Stop what?"

"That," he says, now looking at me with the beautiful eyes of his. My breath hitches upon seeing his mesmerizing eyes. My eyes bore into his longer than intended, but I just can't seem to look away neither can he. The more I stare into his eyes, the stronger the urge to just kiss him and take him here in this classroom with Ms. Shitface around us.

"What that?" I ask, tilting my head, still pretending that I don't even have a clue of what he's saying. He groans, zipping up his bag and swinging his bag over his shoulder, walking forward, leaving me with Ms. Shitface. I don't want to see her nor to feel her presence. Rather I want to be indulged with my mate's present and inhale him. I want to bury my nose into his neck, wrap my arms around him like a bear, and kiss his lips passionately. "I don't have a clue as to what you're saying. Hey, where are you going?"

"Next period. God, you're starting to really annoy me," he says. And lo and behold, I don't even scent that he's really annoyed at me. "The bell's about to ring. Go to your second period." Little did he know that I had to threaten the lady who manages the schedules of the students here in Northern High School just to get the periods that he has. We have the same schedule. So when he gets to school, and when I get to school, we're basically stuck to each other. Or we're basically forced to be stuck with each other. Or he's basically forced to be stuck with me but he will not feel the same way again once I claim him as mine.

So I basically spend the rest of my school time following my mate (and he's really annoyed by that – and yep, I can smell it), but I make it seem like I'm not really following him; I just want him to think that we have the same classes. There were periods that I didn't stare at him like a complete creep I am, and I sensed after the third period that I had a new label – a stalker.

At lunch time, I decide to eat alone, seated at the far end corner of the cafeteria, savoring the meaty taste of the cheeseburger I ordered. This is not healthy, but I love it. My mate is seated with his friends, four tables away from me and I guess that's the most popular table, considering that some of the cheerleaders are there and the other basketball players. Even that bitch Ashley Matthews is sitting beside my goddamn mate and her hand keeps landing on my mate's arms and I swear I'm seconds away from ripping her off and slamming her head into the Caesar salad with lots of mayonnaise that she ordered from the Lunch Lady Mathilda.

If I hadn't known better, I would have come there already, grab her by the hair, and throw her into next four counties beside Wisconsin. But I try, as hard as I can, to calm myself, taking deep breathes and thinking 'this dirty little cunt will always be a little cunt and big whore'. Yeah, insulting her like that definitely makes me feel good.

Beside my mate is her girlfriend. But bitch Ashley doesn't take any bullshits as she keeps flirting with my goddamn mate and I swear I want to break her fingers. Each one of them.

"Are the seats already taken?" a guy with pushed back brown hair looks at me. He looks genuinely interested to know whether the seats are taken or not. So I just shrug and tell him that it's not. "Cool." He says, smiling as he takes a seat in front of me. "Hey, it's alright that I take a seat here, right?" I shrug again, taking a huge bite of my burger.

The guy has a blue eyes, and his lips are slightly pale. He looks attractive though, cute, but believe it or not, I'm only interested at my mate. From the looks of him, he's most likely an outcast. The guy is wearing a white shirt with splattered blue dots all over it; it's a DIY shirt, but it definitely looks good. He matches it with a pair of jeans and a black rubber shoes. While most of the guys here wear Vans, this kid is different.

"My name is Blaine," he introduces himself as he takes a bite of his Pepperoni pizza. Munching, I tell him my name with my mouth full. He chuckles, shaking his head at me. "Wow you're a newcomer but you have already shaken Northern High School. I mean, you just talked shit Ashley, which she deserved by the way. That girl is such a bitch."

"Wow, so much venom coming out of your mouth," I say, amused.

"Ah yeah, after outing me in public in the fifth grade, I swear I wanted nothing but to murder her," Blaine says and I stare at him in shock. "Wait, you're not a homophobe, are you?" I shake my head, shrugging, taking a bite of my cheeseburger. "Good. So we're friends now, aren't we?"

"I guess," I mutter, scratching the back of my neck.

Over his shoulder, four tables away from us, I see that my mate is eyeing us with something flashing in his eyes. I suppress a smirk but instead lean forward just to make it seem that Blaine and I are engaged in a romantic something. I'm sure as hell he felt the pull because if he hasn't, he shouldn't be looking at us with jealousy and judging eyes. I ignore him completely through the rest of the lunch break, talking to Blaine about how things work here at Northern High School and believe me, he has told me a lot.

****** END OF CHAPTER 5

Author's Note: Let me know your thoughts about this chapter by commenting below! How do you feel about Blaine being friends with our Marcus? And what do you feel about Nigel, as put into words by our Marcus, looking at them with "jealousy and judging eyes". Holy Hell. As usual, the first to comment will have this chapter be dedicated for him/her!

And also, I would like to let you know that the featured picture is Blaine!

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