Chapter 2 CHAPTER 2

Celia’s POV

The physics lecture felt like it would never end. Every second that passed felt like torture. My bandaged hand wouldn't stop throbbing. Just get through this class. Turn in the assignment. Breathe.

The bell finally rang. Thank God. I grabbed my things, holding my essay on theoretical propulsion tight against my chest.

Someone blocked the doorway. Kaiden Hale leaned against the frame, his messy reddish-brown hair falling into his eyes. That cruel smirk I'd come to fear was plastered on his face. Ryker stood behind him like a shadow, his gray eyes watching everything.

"Going somewhere, Throne?" Kaiden's voice sounded playful, but I could hear the threat underneath.

"I need to turn in my assignment." My voice came out small and weak. God, why do I always sound so pathetic?

"Yeah, about that," he said, stepping into the room fully. The last student slipped past him and left. Ryker closed the door with a soft click that made my stomach drop. The empty classroom suddenly felt massive and suffocating at the same time. "You need to withdraw. From what you signed up for."

My heart skipped a beat. "Withdraw? From the student council race?"

Kaiden laughed—short and humorless. "Is that what she told you it was? That's cute." He stepped closer. I stepped back on instinct, my legs bumping into a desk. Nowhere to go. "The paperwork. The thing you signed. You need to make it disappear."

Fear crawled up my spine. "I don't understand."

"She doesn't understand, Ryker," Kaiden said, glancing back at his brother. Ryker's face showed nothing. He just stared at me like I was a math problem he needed to solve.

"Then we'll make it simple," Ryker said, his voice low and even. He walked over to the teacher's desk and picked up a single sheet of blank paper. He held it up between his fingers. "You're not wanted in this competition. Withdraw. Or things get very difficult for you."

"I can't!" The words exploded out of me before I could stop them. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"

Kaiden's playful mask slipped away, showing something darker underneath. "Stubborn little Omega." In one quick movement, he took the paper from Ryker's hand. He stepped right into my personal space. His body heat hit me like a wave. I flinched, pressing my back against the desk. Trapped. He brought the edge of the paper up to my collar. "Let me show you what happens to stubborn girls."

He dragged the paper down slowly.

It wasn't violent. It was deliberate. Controlled. The sound was barely a whisper, but I felt everything—a cold line across my skin as the paper sliced through my shirt. The fabric split open, falling apart from my collarbone all the way down to just above my skirt. Cool air hit my bare stomach. My ribs. I looked down and felt my face burn with shame. My plain white bra was completely exposed.

Oh God. Oh God, no.

"See?" Kaiden said quietly, his eyes dark with twisted pleasure. "Paper cuts. They're nasty things. Imagine that edge…" He traced a line in the air, hovering right over the center of my bra. "…right here. You wouldn't want the whole school seeing your nipples, would you? All hard and scared?"

Tears burned in my eyes. I'd never felt so humiliated in my life. I grabbed at the torn edges of my shirt with shaking hands, trying desperately to hold it together. Don't cry. Don't give them the satisfaction.

Ryker watched everything with cold, analytical eyes. "The assignment is due in seven minutes, Celia. You have a choice. Be late and fail the class, or walk through the halls exposed and fail anyway. But if you withdraw from the competition, this all stops."

A sob broke through my control. My hands fumbled with my backpack, tears making it hard to see. I always keep an extra shirt. Where is it? My fingers finally found the thin gym shirt at the bottom. I yanked it out and turned my back to them, trying to hold onto some tiny piece of dignity.

I heard Kaiden's soft laugh behind me as I struggled to pull on the new shirt. The torn one fell to the floor like my shredded pride.

I didn't look at them. I just ran.

I sprinted down the hallway to the history wing, my lungs burning. Six minutes. Maybe five now. I practically skidded into the classroom just as Professor Vance was closing his leather bag.

"My assignment!" I gasped out. "I have it!"

He gave me an annoyed look. "Cutting it very close, Miss Throne. Give it to the assignment collector."

I turned toward the desk by the door and felt my blood turn to ice.

Jasper Hale sat there with a neat stack of essays in front of him. Of course. Of course it's him. He looked up at me, his sharp features arranged into a polite, blank expression. But his eyes told a different story. They held a smirk. A knowing gleam that made my skin crawl. He held out his hand.

Just give it to him. Get out of here.

I placed my essay into his hand without saying a word. His fingers deliberately brushed against mine—a cool, lingering touch that lasted way too long. A confusing shiver ran down my spine that I immediately hated myself for. He tucked my paper somewhere in the middle of the stack, his movements casual and precise.

"Thank you," he said, his voice completely flat.

I left the classroom with a heavy sense of dread settling in my chest. Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.

Two hours later, I found out exactly what.

"Your assignment was not in the submitted pile, Miss Throne," Professor Vance said without even looking up from his gradebook.

My heart dropped. "But I gave it to Jasper! He took it from me!"

"Mr. Hale turned in a complete set of essays. Yours was not among them." He finally looked up at me, his expression cold. "I don't tolerate lies, and I don't accept excuses about being late. You're suspended from this class for one week. Use that time to reflect on personal responsibility."

The world tilted sideways. Suspended. A black mark on my record. My scholarship...

I stumbled out of his office, tears streaming down my face now. It was all planned. Jasper's smirk. That deliberate touch. He took my paper and threw it away. They were destroying me piece by piece, and I couldn't stop it.

Feeling completely numb, I changed into my swimsuit. Maybe the water will help. Maybe I can wash away the feeling of their hands, their eyes, that paper cutting through my shirt.

The lake on campus was usually my safe place. Today it became another trap.

I'd just eased into the cool water when strong hands grabbed my shoulders from behind and shoved me under.

Can't breathe!

I thrashed wildly, bubbles exploding from my mouth. The hands held me down with relentless strength. Panic screamed through every nerve in my body. Black spots started dancing across my vision. I'm going to drown. They're going to kill me.

Just when I thought my lungs would burst, I was yanked back up. I broke the surface coughing and choking, water streaming from my nose and mouth. Zaxer Hale floated in front of me, his black eyes blazing with fierce intensity.

"Had enough yet?" he growled.

"Why?" I choked out, barely able to keep my head above water. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He didn't answer. He just stared at me for a long moment while I struggled to breathe, to stay afloat. Then he turned and swam away, leaving me trembling and gasping in the middle of the lake.

That was it. The final thread holding me together snapped.

I'm done running. I'm done hiding.

I didn't go to dinner. I waited until I stopped shaking, until something cold and hard settled into my chest. I found them lounging outside the senior commons, all five of them together like they always were.

"I want to know why." My voice didn't shake this time. It was flat. Empty. Dead inside.

Xavier looked up from his phone, his silver eyes showing mild curiosity. Kaiden grinned like this was entertaining. Jasper watched with clinical interest. Ryker studied me carefully. Zaxer's intense black eyes locked onto mine and didn't let go.

"Follow us," Xavier said simply.

What choice do I have?

They led me up flight after flight of stairs to the academy's rooftop. The wind immediately whipped through my still-damp hair, making me shiver. The city lights sparkled below us, beautiful and uncaring.

"You signed up for the Alpha Military Boot Camp Qualifier," Xavier stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "The interschool competition. The one we're competing to win. The one that only has a single Omega slot available."

The words slammed into me like physical blows. Boot camp? Military competition? Not student council?

"I didn't know," I whispered as understanding dawned with horrible clarity. "She told me it was for student council president. Krystal... she set me up."

The forms. I never read them. Oh God, I'm so stupid.

"And you were dumb enough to just sign," Kaiden said—not cruelly, just stating an obvious fact. "A nerd. A loser. A weak Omega. You keep trying to prove you're better than us. Trying to rise above where you belong. It's pathetic, really."

"I'm just trying to survive!" The cry ripped from somewhere deep inside me. Is that so wrong? To just want to exist without being tortured every day?

"Survival means knowing your place," Ryker said quietly.

They moved then—not with violence, but with terrifying coordination. They formed a loose circle around me, cutting off any path to the door. Their combined presence felt like a wall of heat and raw alpha power pressing in on me from all sides. My heart hammered against my ribs.

Trapped. Again. Always trapped.

"I'll withdraw! Right now! I'll tell them it was a mistake!"

"Too late," Jasper said. His voice was softer than the others, but somehow it cut deeper. "The participant list went public this afternoon. Everyone knows now."

Panic flooded through me. No. No, no, no. I ducked low, trying to slip between Kaiden and Zaxer. Zaxer's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. I twisted desperately, yanking free with strength I didn't know I had, and stumbled toward the roof's edge—toward Jasper, who stood closest to the low wall.

"Please!" I reached for him, my hand grabbing the front of his uniform shirt. Please help me. Please.

His eyes met mine. For just a second, they went wide. Then his hands came up—but not to steady me. Not to help. He grabbed my fingers and pried them loose from his shirt, one by one. His grip was firm. Clinical. Cold.

He let go.

My balance vanished. The world tilted sickeningly. I fell backward over the low wall, a scream tearing from my throat.

I'm going to die.

The fall was short—maybe six feet—but it felt like forever. I slammed onto a lower maintenance roof, the slanted surface knocking all the air from my lungs. Pain exploded through my arms and legs where I scraped against the rough surface.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Gasping, I pushed myself up on trembling elbows. Everything hurt. And then I looked up.

There, on the main rooftop above me, framed against the darkening purple sky, were Xavier and Krystal.

She was in his arms. And they were kissing.

Not a desperate kiss. Not a quick peck. A slow, deep, possessive kiss that spoke of familiarity. Of practice. Of something that had been happening long before I ever showed up.

No. This can't be real.

As I watched—frozen, broken, sprawled on the roof like garbage—she pulled back from the kiss slowly. Her golden hair flowed in the wind like something from a movie. She turned her head, and her bright blue eyes looked down. Straight at me.

And she smiled.

Not a small smile. Not a sad smile. A wide, brilliant, triumphant smile that lit up her whole face.

Then she laughed. That same sweet, musical laugh I'd found so comforting in the bathroom that first day. The sound floated down to me carried on the wind.

It was all a lie. Every single moment.

The message couldn't have been clearer if she'd shouted it:

I was never your friend. I was never going to be your friend. This was always the plan.

I never had anyone at all.