Part 8

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I'm waiting outside the house in the morning when Daemon pulls up to the curb to take me to school. I wave shyly at him, trying to be polite, but my heart falls as Daemon ignores my effort. He rolls down the window, not even bothering to look at me. "Get in."

So much for trying to be courteous! As Lylah would say, he's a jackass but I try not to let him ruin my mood.

"Hello," I say as I clamber in the car, flashing him a slight smile that he definitely doesn't deserve.

Daemon eyes my backpack that's stuffed to the brim with a grimace. "What do you have in there? Rocks?"

"Don't be silly," I cross my arms. "Mrs. Padilla wants us to bring our textbook today,"

"I'm not the silly one," Daemon smirks. "You look ridiculous lugging that around on your back. So glad I graduated that hell 4 years ago."

I crinkle my small nose in offense at the comment, slightly ticked off. "I'm just being scholarly. Unlike some of us," I add the last part quickly, 'cause I was scared to say it but did anyway.

"What the hell does that mean?" Daemon's brow furrows as he turns to look at me. Shoot. Now he's gonna know I found his old school stuff that was stored in the closet.

"Hey, did you snoop through my shit?"

And I'm caught, my eyes flashing in alarm. "I-I didn't mean to! It just fell out when I was looking around!"

"What fell out?"

"Y-your high school grade transcript..." I fiddle with my hands in his lap, avoiding Daemon's gaze.

Daemon groans, running a hand through his dark hair.

"I-I'm sorry Daemon," I give him an apologetic look laced with apprehension. I'm waiting for the backlash, expecting the punishment of harsh words. But it doesn't come.

"It's not a big deal. Ds and Fs aren't the end of the world and at least I didn't give myself premature back problems," Daemon says as he continues driving.

I'm not expecting that response, and something about his tone amuses. I surprise myself when I let out a sudden laugh, quickly slapping a hand over my mouth to smother it. Daemon abruptly turns to face me, watching as my face pinkens in embarrassment. His face is unreadable as he gazes at me, a conflict of emotions swirling in those dark eyes of his. I realize they're much darker than when he's transformed and they're glowing amber. But right now they're almost black, a breathtaking glittering onyx, like a deep pool I feel like I'll fall into if I look any longer.

But then we're pulling up to the school and the moment ends. Flustered, I eagerly go to get out of the car when I feel something grab me, stopping me from doing so. I look to see Daemon's large veined hand gripping my thin arm, not strong enough to hurt me but if he wanted to he could definitely snap the limb like a twig.

"Wait," Daemon says, but then flinches, dropping my arm like my skin burns him.

I look at him confusedly. "Yes?"

"I hope you're being careful, omega. You've kept low, right? No one can find out about you." he says accusingly. I groan internally. So he still doesn't trust me?!

"Yes, yes! The secret's safe," I reassure him before bounding out of the car. Daemon's probably never seen a teenager more excited to go to school. And I am, of course. But I also really wanted to get out of that situation. The tension in the air was so palpable it makes me shiver to think about. What's with Daemon? He just–makes me feel something and it's weird, but I don't think it's bad.


School's going great. Or it would be if it didn't involve Trent.

I've dealt with bullies before but usually they'd keep it nice and simple, the usual beating before throwing my bag in a dirty ditch and pushing me in after it. But Trent's moves are calculated, stupid mind games designed to piss me off.

I come to class to see my chair is gone. Or Trent will humiliate me by telling me I have something in my teeth and I'll go to the bathroom to pick it out only to find nothing. And it's the perverted remarks that grow more inappropriate by the day that make me the most uncomfortable.

"Do you shave, Ash?" Trent asks me one day in biology.

I frown. "Why are you asking me that?"

"You have nice legs," Trent leers as he peers down at my pale thighs and legs.

I grimace and try to shift my legs further under the desk to block the alphas view. I wish I didn't wear shorts today. They're my favorite jean shorts that go down to my mid-thigh, not even booty-shorts but Trent doesn't seem to care. Ugh why does he have to ruin fashion for me?

"Stop it, Trent. I'm trying to concentrate," I say as I continue to copy down the notes from the board.

"I am too. Just on something different," Trent's reaching over then, his large hand going to grab my thigh.

I leap out of my seat before it can happen, my chair scraping back painfully, the noise causing all the attention to turn to me. "Yes, Mr. Willow?" Mrs. Padilla raises a skeptical eyebrow at me through her thick-rimmed glasses.

"I-I need to go to the restroom," I lie, biting my lip at how awkward I feel. Trent is sneering at me, clearly pleased with the fact that he's succeeded in embarrassing me again.

"You may. But in the future, please go during break," I'm tempted to snap back at her that maybe students didn't always need to go to the bathroom during break and should go whenever their bladders tell them to but I think  better of it.

I nod and quickly rush out, texting my group chat with Wren and Lylah.

The Triplets

Me: Trent is trying to freakin molest me!

Lylah: WHAT.



Me: heading to west restroom 🚽

Wren: Nice emoji, also im omw!

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