The sting in my palm was sharp, a reminder I couldn't ignore no matter how hard I tried. Every time I flexed my fingers, the ache flared, dragging me back to yesterday, the car, the crash, Derek's touch. That electric jolt. I clenched my fist tighter, willing my nerves to settle.
The lecture hall quieted slowly, like a wave pulling back before a storm. I didn't have to look up. I knew exactly who had just walked in. everybody's crush "Derek."
His presence shifted the air around me. It wasn't just the way he moved, or the way his eyes—those impossible red eyes—cut through the room. It was the way everything seemed to still when he was near, like the world paused to watch us.
"Skye." His voice was quiet, deliberate, but it sent a pulse straight through my chest.
I kept my gaze glued to my notebook, fingers twisting a pen. "What, looking for a new target?" I muttered, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.
A low chuckle rumbled from him, warm and teasing. "Brought you something."
I glanced down. A leatherbound notebook, heavy and rich-looking. Next to it, a cup of coffee, steam curling in the cold air.
"I don't want your stuff," I said, voice tight.
"Not a bribe," he said, eyes flicking to my bandaged hand. "An apology. How's the hand?"
"Fine." I looked away before he could read the hesitation there.
The professor's voice buzzed over us, but Derek's presence swallowed my focus. Every so often, his eyes flicked to me, like he was reading the lines I refused to say aloud.
"Most people say thanks when someone checks on them," he said quietly.
"Most people don't run you over with their car," I shot back, biting the words.
That crooked smile appeared again, the one that made my knees weak. "You're not most people."
"Neither are you," I whispered, and heat rose to my cheeks.
Class felt endless. Every glance he threw my way was a silent conversation, every breath he took pressed against my skin. When the professor finally dismissed us, I packed up fast.
"I'll walk you to your next class."
"No thanks."
"I insist."
Walking beside him, I felt eyes on me—whispers trailing like smoke. Skye, the quiet scholarship girl, walking with Derek Clawson. It was a story already spreading.
"So," he said, matching my pace, "what's your deal?"
"No deal," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Go to class, study, go home."
"Where's home?"
"Not your business."
He laughed, real and unguarded. "You're not scared of me, are you?"
"Should I be?"
His smile dropped. Voice low. "Most people should be."
Before I could answer, Joanna appeared, arm looping through his. Chloe and Isabelle flanked her like guards.
"Oh, it's you," Joanna said, eyes sharp. "Still hobbling? Or is that just how you walk? Heard you took a nasty spill."
My jaw clenched. "I'm fine."
Derek pulled free, voice low. "What do you want, Joanna?"
She smiled sweet, but it was poison. "Sigma party tonight. You're my date."
"Not going."
Her mask cracked. "You promised. We always go together."
"We're done. Have been for a while."
Her voice dropped, venomous trying to hide the feeling of disappointment. "Dumping me? For her? This nobody?"
The word hit me like a slap—sharp and cold. Not just an insult. A blade aimed at my core ,but i can feel the disappointment in her voice more like i can taste it.
Derek stepped forward, his presence shifting. The air chilled.
"Watch your words. Apologize. Now."
Joanna froze, fury and tears warring in her eyes. No apology came. With a choked sob, she turned and fled, her friends following.
The hall buzzed with shocked whispers.
I stared at Derek, heart pounding. He'd just burned his throne for me—a girl he barely knew. Reckless. Terrifying.
"Why?" I asked without even thinking it was more like a non reflex action the word just came out.
"She disrespected you," he said quietly, like it was obvious. "I don't let that slide."
His phone buzzed sharply. He read a message, face hardening.
"I have to go."
I nodded, words stuck in my throat.
"Here tomorrow?"
"Yes."
His fingers brushed a damp strand of my hair. The spark flared again—soft but real. A silent promise.
Then he was gone.
My phone buzzed. A message from Dad.
Skye. Come home after class. Don't stay on campus. It's urgent. The forests are restless. Mom's trip delayed.
My chest tightened. Their secret world was reaching for me again—sharp and warning. The tide pulling me toward something I wasn't ready for.
Mia burst in, eyes wide.
"Girl, spill! Derek Clawson? Dumped Joanna for you?"
"It's not like that."
"Not like that? He bought you coffee, sat next to you, and publicly torched Joanna's ego. You're famous now."
"I just want to survive my classes."
Mia grinned. "How can you even think straight right now, gosh, do you know how lucky you are or let me say fortunate, its Derek like, the Derek babe really, well Good luck with that. Derek's intense. And those eyes men, Freaky, but hot. You're in trouble."
I said nothing. I didn't have to. I felt it too—a storm brewing far beneath the surface.
Derek's bike roared through rain-soaked streets. The message burned in his mind.
The forest is hungry. Come now.
His father waited.
"You are Late," the voice said.
"Had business."
"Distractions, u were distracted any business that is not pack business is nothing but a distraction. The forest stirs. When it calls Be ready."
He thought of me, the spark, the pull. Whatever was coming, I was part of it. He felt it deep in his bones.
The next day, the sting in my palm was still there, but now it was mixed with something else. Possibility. Fear. Maybe even hope.
I didn't know what lay ahead, but I knew one thing for sure: this is new and big I wasn't walking this path alone anymore.