Chapter 5 Chapter Five : The Midnight Call

TESSA - POV

My phone is ringing. It's already 2:00 a.m. My caller ID shows Boyfriend. "Yes."

"Sleeping?" he asks, his breath coming in heavy pants, like he's running or something.

"What do you expect? It's the middle of the night. People sleep."

"I don't sleep." He answers, something cold passing behind his tone.

"Maybe you're not human, but…" I say, trying to sound irritated.

"Watch your mouth. Weakling." His warning pulls my sleepy head out of its half-dream.

"Come out. I need your help with something." I sit upright on my bed at his tone. It's demanding. Dangerously so.

"Wait. No. I'm not coming out for that kind of thing." A soft chuckle comes through the other end of the call.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, weakling," he says. "I need you at the soccer field."

"What if I say no?"

"You don't want to know what I have in store." His dark voice makes me wonder. Will he make me run laps around the field if I piss him off? He can do that. I don't want to find out.

"I'm coming." I roll out of bed and get dressed.

The walk to campus is quiet, but the moment I reach the field, I stop. Jaxen is out there, striking at the goal over and over, and every shot falls short. A dummy blocks his path. He looks frustrated. His aura pulses around his frame in waves of red and black, sharp and unsettling against the night. The surrounding wind is strange—too strong, and it keeps pushing the ball off course. His own energy is working against him.

I start down the bleacher stairs. He senses me before I say a word. His eyes snap in my direction. His blue-streaked dark blonde hair is soaked with sweat. His jersey is black, with the Wolveshire Academy name in the corner of his left chest written with a snarling wolf logo beneath it, the kind that looks more like a warning than a mascot. 

He smirks. His aura slowly fades.

He walks toward me as I stand at the edge of the field.

"Come closer. I don't bite." I narrow my eyes.

"Why did you call me out here?" I ask.

"Take a seat." He points towards the front row of bleachers.

I sit. He walks back to the soccer field.

"Watch my shots. Write what you see. Coach wants a performance profile by Friday; that's your job now."

I stare at him. "Wait. Why am I agreeing to this? It's not like you've done anything for me."

His eyebrow drops at my tone. Damn. I hate how much I have to watch myself around him.

"Haven't checked group chats, weakling?"

"No, I didn't." I trail off as I open my phone. The group chat is clean. Every cruel message is gone. The thread is nothing but assignment talk now, not a single post made at my expense.

Naomi's personal text reads: What happened? The chats in the group disappeared. This is good, right?

Naomi: Where are you?

Then, a few minutes later: Are you dating Alpha Jaxen?  with a picture attached. Jaxen is holding my hand, dragging me off the soccer field.

My phone leaves my grip before I can react. Jaxen pulls it right out of my hand. "So. Didn't I make it disappear, Weakling?"

"How did you manage that?" I ask, still in shock. That cocky smile on his face says this was nothing to him. Not even close.

"I have my ways." He hands the phone back. "Now get to work. Open your notes."

"When is the deadline again?" I ask, frowning, already hating this.

"Friday." He turns and walks back to center field, the soccer ball waiting at his feet.

"Wait, you mean I have to work the entire night and submit this by morning?" I call after him.

"Aye, weakling. Now get to work and don't disturb me."

I frown at his back. "Why are you doing this to me? I have an early biology class with Professor Jession."

He doesn't answer. He just shoots. The ball hits the back of the net clean, and he keeps going  and taking  shot after shot. I watch him dribble, strike, and dodge the moving dummies on the field, and I write it all down. His strength. His positioning. The way he reads the field like it owes him something.

An hour later, he steps off the field. He's damp with sweat, but his breathing is steady, nothing like the heavy pants from the call. His deadly aura is no longer around him anymore. 

He takes my phone from my grip and reads through what I wrote. "This needs polishing."

"I'm not doing it," I snap.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Why are you being so cruel? Is this how you treat your fake girlfriend?" His blue eyes go colder; that look I know means trouble.

"Watch your tone, Weakling." He sits down on the bleacher beside me, close enough that his scent hits me: citrus and smoke underneath the sweat. "You asked me why I'm doing this."

He doesn't look at me. "I told you not to do anything that would jeopardize our deal."

"So you're taking revenge on me because I went to visit him. " I look at him.

"Many people will think our relationship is fake, and I don't need that. Besides, you're a pushover; this is good for disciplining you." He says it straight to my face.

"I am not a pushover."

He rolls his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, weakling."

"So now that your punishment is done, can I go back to my dorm? Dawn is breaking, and I have class."

"Not until you polish that profile and submit it to my coach. I need to rest." He leaves me with that, walking off toward his dorm without a backward glance.

I wait until he's gone. There's no one around.

"AAHHH–I hate him!" I hiss through my teeth.

I walk back to my dorm in a fury, get to work, and finish it. I submit his performance profile to the coach and make it to campus just barely on time. On my way, I spot Marcy and her group near the lockers. They go quiet the moment they see me. Marcy's eyes burn with something she quickly covers with a smile sweet enough to mean trouble.

"Hey, loser!" Marcy says. Her friend nudges her. "Sorry. I mean Tessa. You really should have told me you were dating Jaxen."

"Why does it matter?"

She steps closer, dropping her voice near my ear. "Tell me the truth. This whole thing with Jaxen,  it's a fake, right? Just something to keep yourself out of my reach."

"It's not a fake."

"Come on. You can't fool me." Marcy pulls back, looking me over. "You used to trail after Theo like a lost puppy. You're telling me you just had a change of heart?"

No one in the locker room says a word. They're all watching, but when Marcy speaks, no one dares to.

"So speak the truth, Tessa." She tilts her head, her smile perfectly in place. "I promise I won't do anything to you." She looked at her manicured nails, implying she can change them into claws and hurt me 

The pressure builds the moment she says it. When I was with Theo, the open bullying stopped,  but Marcy never stopped. She just got quieter about it. Every attack came from a blind spot: no proof, no witnesses. She never quit haunting me.

"I'm not scared of you, Marcy."

She chuckles. I shove past her. But in a blink of eye, her hand is around my throat, her fingers already shifting. I call for Selene, reaching for my wolf, but she can't match Marcy's strength. Not even close.

"Let go of me," I manage.

"You're dating Captain Jaxen." Marcy's grip tightens, her voice dropping to something quiet and certain. "You think that makes him yours? I'll break that little dream of yours the same way I broke you before. The same way I stole your mate."

The words hit harder than her grip.

I fight through it. I drive my knee up hard enough that her hold loosens, and I wrench free, gasping, one hand braced against the locker to keep myself upright.

The door swings open.