Oops, Wrong Girl to Bully

Oops, Wrong Girl to Bully

Xena Kessler · Completed · 218.9k Words

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Introduction

An original story by Xena Kessler
My back hit the desk. Pain exploded through my skull.
"Girls like you don't get to dream about guys like Kai." Bella's breath was hot on my face. "You don't get to write pathetic love letters."
She shoved me again. Harder.
"Maybe if you weren't such a desperate little—"
I fell. My head cracked against the corner.
Warmth trickled down my neck. Blood.
Their laughter turned to gasps.
The door slammed.
I tried to stand. Couldn't. The room was spinning, fading to black.
Someone... please...
Angelina, the most powerful Alpha who conquered forty-nine packs, dies in a yacht explosion—only to wake up as Aria Sterling, a fifteen-year-old Omega's daughter who just died from bullying.
The original Aria's life was a nightmare. Humiliated when golden boy Kai Matthews posted her love letter online, then shoved to death by his girlfriend Bella Morrison. But that's not all her family faces:
"You got until Monday," the tattooed gangster sneered at Aria's mother. "Ten grand cash. Or I'm taking collateral—your kids' organs fetch top dollar. That pretty daughter of yours? She could make us money another way too."
Now Angelina's lethal combat skills awaken in this fragile body. No more hiding. No more fear.
Armed with an Alpha's ruthlessness and a mysterious blood-red pendant, she'll dismantle everyone who hurt this family—one calculated move at a time.

Chapter 1

Angelina’s POV

The Pacific sun hit my wine glass just right, turning the Cabernet the color of fresh blood. I leaned back against the yacht's railing, letting the ocean breeze pull at my hair.

"Alpha." My head of security's voice crackled through the earpiece. "Perimeter clear. Ten miles out, nothing but open water."

"Copy that."

Five years. That's how long it took to conquer forty-nine packs and unite them under Riverbend's banner. Some called me ruthless. Others called me a visionary.

I thought, watching a seagull dive for fish.

"Zzzzt—zzzzzt—"

The communications array died with a screech.

Then nothing. Dead air.

My hand went to the gun at my hip before I'd even processed the thought.

But too late.

"BOOM!"

The yacht shuddered.

My Pack link started to fuzz out. Static where there should've been voices. Interference where there should've been clarity.

EMP, I realized. They hit us with an electromagnetic pulse.

Which meant someone had just fried every electronic system on board. The monitoring equipment, the weapons systems, the communications—all of it. Gone.

But killing the Pack link? That took serious magic. The kind of magic that cost a fortune and left a trail of bodies.

Blackout, I thought. They actually grew a pair.

"BANG! BANG! BANG!"

Gunfire erupted from the lower decks. Screams. Snarls. The wet sound of something tearing.

I didn't hesitate. Grabbed the railing and vaulted over, dropping three levels to land in a crouch on the main deck.

Five of my guards were already down. Bullets through the heart, every single one.

Eight figures in black tactical gear stood over the bodies, weapons trained on the doorways where my remaining guards would be pouring out any second. Human scent, laced with gun oil and something else—wolfsbane, probably. The spray kind that burned like acid.

One of them turned to face me, and I felt my lips pull back in something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Drake." I let his name roll off my tongue like a curse. "Didn't think you'd be stupid enough to come yourself."

He lowered his rifle just enough to meet my eyes. Tall, scarred, the kind of face that had seen too much violence and decided it liked the view. Former special forces turned mercenary turned hunter. I'd heard the stories.

"Angelina." His voice was gravel and smoke. "Blackout's offering fifty million for your head. The Order kicked in another ten. Sixty million total." He tilted his head. "That's enough to keep my family comfortable for generations."

"If you live to collect it."

"There's the catch, isn't it?" He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So let's make this quick."

The air itself seemed to press down as my Alpha presence flooded out. All eight hunters took a step back. Couldn't help it.

"Open fire!"

Bullets tore through the air where I'd been standing.

Silver rounds punched through the deck, ripped through railings, shattered windows.

But I was already moving, too fast for their eyes to track. A bullet grazed my shoulder. Another tore through my jacket.

The shift hit like a freight train. Bones cracking, reshaping, my entire skeleton rearranging itself in the space of three seconds.

The hunters' faces went white.

Drake managed to lift his rifle. "Sh—"

I was on him before he could finish the word.

Sixty seconds. That's all it took.

The first hunter's throat opened under my claws, arterial spray painting the deck red. The second one I caught mid-run, jaws closing around his spine with a wet crunch. Three, four, five—they fell like dominoes, like they'd never even held a weapon before.

Silver bullets punched into my hide. Burned like hellfire, but I'd had worse.

Seven down. Just Drake left.

He'd backed up against the railing, rifle gone, just a silver combat knife in his shaking hand. Blood streaked his tactical vest.

I stalked toward him, slow and deliberate. Let him understand exactly how outmatched he'd been from the start.

"W-wait—" His voice cracked.

I shifted back to human form, standing naked and blood-splattered in front of him. The necklace expanded with me, settling back against my throat.

"Go back to Blackout," I said softly. "Tell those old bastards that even if I die today, I'll crawl out of hell itself to rip their hearts out. Understand?"

He nodded so fast I thought his neck might snap.

"Good. Now get the fuck off my boat."

Drake scrambled toward the emergency ladder, nearly falling twice. I watched him go, already calculating my next move. Blackout wouldn't stop with one failed attempt. They'd come harder next time.

Let them try, I thought. I —

Yara's voice exploded through my head, pure panic:

DANGER! ANGELINA, RUN!

My instincts screamed the same warning a split second later.

I breathed in deep, sorting through the scents.

Ocean. Blood. Gunpowder. Wolfsbane.

And something else. Faint, almost hidden beneath the sea breeze.

C4.

Shit.

"BOOM!"

The yacht's bottom erupted in a chain of explosions, one after another, fire climbing into the sky. The whole vessel lurched sideways, metal screaming as it started to tear itself apart.

I ran for the railing and jumped.

Wasn't fast enough.

"BOOM!!!"

The final explosion caught me mid-air, a wall of force and flame that swatted me out of the sky like an insect. I felt ribs crack, organs rupture, something vital tear loose inside my chest.

Then I hit the water.

Cold. So cold.

I couldn't hold my wolf form anymore. As I sank, blood streaming from my mouth and nose, staining the Pacific red around me.

Down. Down. Down.

Is this it? I thought, watching bubbles trail past my face. This is how it ends?

Five years conquering the werewolf world, and I'd die in the ocean like any other drowning victim. No epic last stand. No going down fighting.

Just... sinking.

No. The thought came fierce and desperate. Not yet. I still have things to do. People to find.

My parents. The ones who'd abandoned me as a child, left me to claw my way up from nothing. I still needed answers. Still needed to look them in the eye and ask why.

Why have a child just to throw her away?

The necklace pulsed against my throat. Warm. Getting warmer.

I tried to lift my hand, fingers numb and clumsy. Touched the wolf fang with the last of my strength.

The pendant exploded with red light.

Bright, so bright it burned even through my closed eyelids. The warmth spread from my throat through my whole body, not painful but alive, like the necklace was waking up after sleeping for years.

It pulsed in rhythm with my failing heartbeat. Once. Twice. Faster and faster, the red glow intensifying until I was wrapped in it, cocooned in crimson light that turned the dark water into something that looked like blood.

The burning got stronger, hotter, but I wasn't afraid. This wasn't the heat of death.

This was something else.

Something impossible.

Rebirth.

The light swallowed me completely, a crimson cocoon sinking deeper into the Pacific's black heart. Down and down, until the surface was just a memory and the pressure should've crushed my bones to powder.

But I didn't feel crushed.

I felt... held.

Beyond the light, like a dream.

There—

A beginning.

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Entitled.

Delicate.

And still—

Still.

The image of her standing in the doorway, clutching her cardigan tighter around her narrow shoulders, trying to smile through the awkwardness, won’t leave me.

Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.

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