  I stare up in complete and utter amazement as the beautiful goddess in front of me says that I'm hers. That's when I make sense of the yelling in my head.

  

      'MATE, MATE, M—"

  

      So, she is my Mate?! This wonderful creature, divine looking angel, who's currently glaring down a group of boys almost twice her size without an ounce of fear is my Mate?

  

      Sharp gasps and murmurs of shock and surprise erupt from my group of bullies, and one of them even goes as far as asking his question out loud. "He is your Mate?" I hear Dalton's voice asking, and I tear my eyes off the warrior princess — who reeks of extreme power and authority — to twist my neck around and see his reaction. The weight of her magnetic presence almost makes me want to bow my head down in submission.

  

      I suppress the urge to smirk as my Mate drags her eyes off me with irritation and shoots h

  Maybe if I prove to her that I am not weak, she won't reject me.

  

      Hell, who am I kidding? She'll probably see right through it. There's no denying it.

  

      Once I'm steady on my two feet, she lets go of her tight grip on my arm and puts a foot of distance between us. I almost whimper out loud at the loss of her touch, at the loss of pleasurable tingles and sparks.

  

      "Careful," She whispers softly, and I shiver visibly in delight, at the first word — besides 'mine' — that she's ever said to me. I stare dumbfounded as her face—the face that was hard and cold moments ago—softens ever-so-slightly and her eyes crinkle at the corners, betraying that she's feeling at least a tiny bit concerned for me.

  

      The conclusion makes my heart leap, a feeling of happiness I haven't felt in a long time enveloping my heart like a warm blanket. I grin goofily and she looks

  "I thought I could do this, but ugh, I just can't!" I cry out, punching the tree on my right in an attempt to vent some of this pent-up rage inside me. The small tree cracks at the impact, falling to the grass-covered ground of the school garden.

  

      "I know that high school kids are annoying," Ezra agrees, shrugging helplessly, "But try to bear with them. We did last year." He reminds me, trying to be the ever-patient-one when in reality, he's usually the hothead that flies off the hook out of the two of us. I take a deep breath, trying to be positive about this.

  

      "Tell you what, we can spar for another hour if you keep your cool," He offers complacently, changing tactics and gazing at me with unconcealed smugness. Damn, the fucker knows that it's almost impossible for me to can't resist that offer.

  

      "No," I pass it up anyway, shaking my head ruefully.

  

      "I'll even let you kick my ass!" He adds excitedly with a Cheshire grin, still not budging. I glare at his weak attempt at humor, unimpressed. Everyone knows that I can kick his ass. No need for him to go soft on me.

  

      "Please, it's your dream at stake." He implores, giving me his infamous puppy eyes and pout, but his reasoning strikes a chord in me, reminding me that it was me who decided to do this. No one forced me into anything, and in the end, I'd been the one to decide that I had to attend Hillbrigde.

  

      I have to do this. I can't back out now.

  

      "I hate you," I mumble and he grins radiantly, doing a little of his trademark victory dance.

  

      "Well, then. Let's go to the next class," He ushers, and I follow him with exasperation and just plain aggravation evident on my expression.

  

      Ugh. It's going to be a long day.

  

      The rest of the morning passes by in a blur, with me sporting a permanent scowl. Everyone backs away when I walk down the halls, sensing my irritation that is probably rolling off of me in thick intimidating waves, scaring everyone in a ten-mile radius.

  

      "Ezra, I'm going to leave my bag in the locker. Meet you at the cafeteria," I inform him when we leave AP Econ, the last class of the morning. I barely wait for him to respond before I spin around and power walk to my locker, my fast pace unaffected since people part like the Red Sea for me.

  

      As I continue my path to the lockers, I feel something strange, an unexplainable urge in me growing more and more by the passing second, almost pulling me in the direction in which I'm walking. I try to push this uncomfortable — or more exactly, unfamiliar feeling away and carry on and that's when my Wolf starts getting impatient, pacing in the back of my head.

  

      Something is definitely not right.

  

      'What's wrong?' I ask her but get no reply.

  

      This just irks me even more and I struggle to comprehend the reason behind her sudden strange behavior. I grit my teeth in frustration, and my hands fist automatically, the primal instinct of danger or something akin to it kicking in.

  

      That's when I see it.

  

      A group of boys standing in the far end of the hallway with well-built physiques, dressed in jerseys and letterman jackets that makes it easy to label them; jocks. They are laughing and pushing at something and when I get closer, I can see that they aren't laughing at something, but rather at someone.

  

      Just as I near them, I see that Alpha kid from earlier — Chase or something, pulling his fist back to punch the helpless guy lying on the floor. All the other jocks' legs obscure my view of him, so I can't see anything except that said person is in a lot of pain.

  

      Red fills my vision at the sight, an unexplainable urge to kill the guy who's punching the one on the floor fills me. I don't think twice about it and give in to the violence building inside me, gladly accepting the chance to punch this bully. I place a hand on his shoulder and turn him around with sheer force, surprising him, and before he could think, I punch him squarely on the nose; the loud 'crunch' resonating through the room.

  

      He yelps in pain and falls to the ground in the impact. I remove my attention from the groaning bully on the floor and quickly scan the group to see three of my pack members, bowing their heads in submission and shame. They mumble a chorus of "Alpha," and I glare at them in silent warning, letting them know that their actions will be charged with repercussions, but like a magnet drawn to metal, my attention is quickly dragged away from them to the boy on the floor.

  

      When I finally see him, my heart almost stops, my breath hitching in my throat.

  

      There lying on the ground is a guy.

  

      I hear incessant yelling from my Wolf and it takes me a second to understand what she's telling.

  

      'MATE, MATE, MATE,'

  

      He is not just any guy.

  

      He is my soulmate.

  

      "Mine," I say, or my Wolf does through me, coming forward and claiming what's hers.

I stare up in complete and utter amazement as the beautiful goddess in front of me says that I'm hers. That's when I make sense of the yelling in my head.
  
      'MATE, MATE, M—"
  
      So, she is my Mate?! This wonderful creature, divine looking angel, who's currently glaring down a group of boys almost twice her size without an ounce of fear is my Mate?
  
      Sharp gasps and murmurs of shock and surprise erupt from my group of bullies, and one of them even goes as far as asking his question out loud. "He is your Mate?" I hear Dalton's voice asking, and I tear my eyes off the warrior princess — who reeks of extreme power and authority — to twist my neck around and see his reaction. The weight of her magnetic presence almost makes me want to bow my head down in submission.
  
      I suppress the urge to smirk as my Mate drags her eyes off me with irritation and shoots him the deadliest glare known to man. I feel a sliver of real fear—making my heartbeat go wild—

Chapter 7- "Don't Touch What's Mine."-01