Riley's POV
A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I approach my bicycle. There's no point in wondering how different things might be if we were all the same species. Caleb never deliberately targets me with cruelty, but he certainly doesn't intervene when others do, and he treats me like I'm invisible. He's transformed into a wolf now, and apparently that makes me beneath his notice.
I swing my leg over the bike and begin the familiar journey to school. The ride stretches for about fifteen minutes through the winding roads that connect our small town.
Once I secure my bike in the designated area, I steel myself for another day of academic torture. The sarcasm in my own mind doesn't even surprise me anymore.
Drawing in a deep breath, I navigate through the bustling corridor. Just as I near my destination, one of the varsity football players deliberately slams his shoulder into mine with brutal force, sending me crashing against the metal lockers. A painful grunt tears from my throat as I slide down the cold surface and land ungracefully on the floor. The sound of mocking laughter fills the air around me. You'd assume that in a school populated entirely by werewolves, they might show some compassion toward the solitary human who possesses far less strength than they do. Instead, it seems like proving they can overpower the defenseless human has become some twisted badge of honor. This harassment has become my daily routine, though this particular incident will definitely leave me with fresh bruises.
My gaze lifts to find Stella and her entourage erupting in laughter.
Undoubtedly another one of her calculated attacks carried out through her loyal followers. Across the hallway, I spot Caleb positioned against the opposite lockers, his intense stare fixed on me. He's not participating in the laughter, just boring into me with pure contempt burning in his eyes. I can't fathom what transgression I've committed against him, though being human might be offense enough. The truth will probably remain a mystery forever, so there's no sense in obsessing over it. He slides his arm possessively around Stella's shoulders and guides her away while she continues cackling as if witnessing the most entertaining spectacle of her life.
I pull myself upright, retrieve my backpack from the floor, and proceed into the classroom. Tears are a luxury I can no longer afford since they only seem to encourage my tormentors. I've also abandoned any hope of rescue, having learned long ago that I must navigate these challenges alone. Zoey lacks the power to resolve these conflicts, and neither does my mother. I avoid burdening her with these incidents since she's human too and equally helpless against werewolf politics.
My opening class is advanced calculus with the senior students, and I despise being surrounded by their superiority complexes. They're convinced of their inherent advantage over me, and in most areas they're probably correct, but intelligence is my domain. The absence of friendships beyond Zoey creates an environment where academic focus comes naturally, and if that means graduating ahead of schedule, then so be it. Throughout most of my classes, I endure hushed remarks about my supposed inadequacy for advanced coursework and my lack of belonging in this pack. I'd love to inform them all that I'm acutely aware of my outsider status, and I'll be gone the moment circumstances permit.
The hours drag by until third period concludes, finally bringing lunch period. This marks my first opportunity to spend time with Zoey during school hours. Our schedules only overlap during lunch and sixth period art class. Unfortunately, this lunch session also includes Caleb and Stella's collection of followers.
What a delightful prospect. Zoey and I position ourselves as distant from their group as possible, and since they claim the same table daily, finding remote seating for two people isn't particularly challenging.
Zoey rushes toward me, enveloping me in an enthusiastic embrace.
As she releases me, her hands begin examining me for injuries. "Thank the Moon Goddess you're okay. I heard whispers that you were attacked today." I respond with laughter and a head shake while moving through the cafeteria line. "Same old routine, just had another intimate moment with the lockers." I reply with forced lightness and a practiced smile. Her expression darkens since she detests when I make light of these assaults, but wallowing in self-pity isn't an option either.
Someone chuckles behind us, and we glance back to discover Mason, Caleb's gamma, as the source.
He stands approximately six feet three inches tall with cropped black hair, warm brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin. I choose to ignore him and continue progressing through the line, but Zoey can't restrain herself. "Something amusing, Mason?" she demands with authority, halting the entire queue. I mutter frustrated curses under my breath, irritated by her compulsion to defend me. This intervention will only escalate my problems. "Drop it, Zoey. Let's go." I say firmly, but Mason chooses to respond. "Hey, relax. I just found her comment amusing. I wasn't mocking her."
She stares at him with bewilderment. What exactly did he just say? I'm not sure how to process that statement. "Zoey, move! You're blocking everyone." I whisper urgently, dragging her puzzled expression away from him as she joins me. My appetite has completely vanished, so I abandon the food line entirely.
She gathers some snacks and follows me to our usual table positioned as far from Stella as geography allows.
I collapse into my seat and bury my head in my folded arms on the table surface. "Why did you do that? Zoey, you understand that confronting them only makes things worse." I complain to her. She places a comforting hand on my arm. "Riley, you realize that never defending yourself guarantees the abuse will continue." She responds gently, though determination flickers in her gaze. "Fighting back won't help either and you know it. None of this matters since I'll be leaving soon, and all of this will become ancient history." I reply flatly. We've rehashed this argument countless times, and neither of us will concede.
She falls silent, which is uncharacteristic, and glares at something behind me. I quickly turn to assess the approaching threat and spot Mason. He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender toward Zoey. "Hey, stay calm. I just wanted to give you these." He places several snack items in front of me. I regard him with confusion. "Honestly, I genuinely thought your joke was clever. I didn't intend to ruin your appetite. I brought various options since I have no clue about your preferences. Consider it a peace offering." He speaks kindly before returning to his group's table. I watch his departure, and my attention shifts to their table where every member is staring at me. Some display confusion while others radiate hostility.
What chaos has he just unleashed? I know I'm in serious trouble now.