Savage (Prime Collage)

Part 3

Celestia

Damn, this goddamn college is a fucking nightmare. Everything's a fucking facade. I can't wrap my head around why the hell they thought sending me back here was a bright idea. I'm not the same wide-eyed girl with stars in her eyes anymore.

My driver pulls up to the main gates of the college grounds, and the car crawls along as security checks are tighter than a nun's habit. Supposedly, it's all precautionary safety measures, but anyone with half a brain knows better. It's all smoke and mirrors, a facade to cloak the real deal: casting spells to spy on us students. I keep quiet, just observing, until a tap on my window snaps me out of my thoughts.

The window inches down, revealing a pair of crisp white uniform pants that cling to the most enormous fucking legs I've ever laid eyes on. And then, there it is, a bulge that demands attention. I'm convinced I'm seeing things until a gravelly voice pulls me back to reality.

"Eyes on me," he commands.

My body's gone haywire on me, and I can't even place the dude staring back. One minute, I'm ensnared in those captivating green eyes, and the next, I'm coiled in the backseat, preparing to unleash hell on this lunatic.

Apollo Savage, the 24-year-old beast, a wolf shifter with blood on his hands—more than 20 lives taken right here on campus. He's also my roommates ex-boyfriend, the bastard who put her in a coma, and the asshole who bullied me every chance he got. And believe me, he had plenty of opportunities, considering he practically lived with Sam and me. If I had stayed home that night, I'm sure he would've ripped my head off like he did to the other students.

Damn, he's gotten huge. Used to be 6'4", now he's towering over me at least 6'7". Gone is the boy; now, there's a man in front of me, muscles bulging with strength. The air crackles with his alpha energy, and I know I don't stand a chance against him. His gaze pins me like prey, the scent of citrus and sandalwood wrapping around me, making my skin prickle with anticipation. Slowly, I reach for the door handle—it's my only escape. Fear drips from every pore as my heart races. He grins, his voice sending chills down my spine. 

"Don't," he warns.

I don't understand what's going on. Sure, by nature, we're supposed to be enemies, but I've never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before.Emotions are swirling inside me like a goddamn tornado—shame, surprise, anger, fear—all trapped in this tiny space, suffocating me. I try to speak, but the stench in the car leaves me struggling for breath, and then it hits me—it's his pheromones, messing with my head and leaving me feeling like prey. My heart's pounding so hard, I half expect it to burst out of my chest, and even though I know it's irrational, I can't shake this bone-deep fear. I'm so wound up, I feel like I could snap in two.

"Everything alright?" the driver asks from the front.

"Yeah, all good," the monster replies, his voice deep and that smirk never leaving his face.

As the car starts moving, I can't shake the feeling of dread. The psycho's eyes bore into mine until his face twists into a sinister grin. I know this isn't over. I've just given him the ultimate prize—my fear.

As the car drives off, I begin to calm down, my body slowly relaxing. But then, I feel it—the wetness between my legs, so much that I'm paralyzed with embarrassment. Pissing myself out of fear is not something I ever wanted to experience, let alone admit to anyone.

I quickly close the partition between the driver and me, grabbing wet towels to clean up the mess. But when I reach for my panties, a scream of horror escapes my lips. It's not piss—it's a fucking pinkish slickness smeared all over my fucking panties.