Author's POV
"You filthy slave!" Mrs. Victoria's voice rang out like a crack of thunder, her hand connecting with Akira's cheek in a sharp, stinging slap that burned with both shame and anger. The force of the strike left Akira reeling, her skin smarting under the impact.
"The next time you dare to leave without finishing your chores, you will feel the full extent of my wrath," Mrs. Victoria snarled, her eyes cold and unforgiving. With those venomous words, she stormed off, leaving Akira standing there, her cheek throbbing and her pride shattered.
Akira's hands trembled as she hurriedly gathered the scattered contents of her bag, each movement a blur of determination and urgency. She grabbed her books with a sense of urgency, her eyes locked on the door as if it were her only means of escape. In a moment of brief, silent resolve, she stepped out into the cool, crisp air, taking a deep breath as she braced herself for the uncertain challenges the school day would bring.
At Wilder Academy, the school is sharply divided into two distinct factions: the powerful, influential elite pack, who possess all the privileges and control, and the weaker pack, who are often overlooked and left to the margins. It's a world of strict hierarchy, where everyone has their designated role, and the separation between the two groups is glaringly apparent.
However, Akira doesn't belong to either side. A wolf-less omega, she is devoid of the werewolf powers that everyone else seems to take for granted. This makes her feel like an outsider, constantly distanced from both packs, struggling to find her place in a world that is all about strength and power.
With this in mind, Akira quickly made her way down the hall, eyes fixed on the floor as she hurried towards her locker, eager to blend into the background. The last thing she needed was attention, particularly from Blair Wright. Blair, the daughter of Akira's most formidable enemy, had a knack for zeroing in on her no matter how hard she tried to stay invisible.
Akira stood at her locker, ready to drop off her books and make a quick escape home. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal handle of the locker, but just as she was about to open it, an unsettling sensation washed over her. It wasn't like anything she had experienced before, especially considering she hadn't yet received her wolf. Still, something deep inside her stirred, urging her to stay alert.
Instincts kicked in. Akira's head whipped to the left in an instant, and it was just in time. A ball shot past her, missing her by mere inches. Her heart pounded as the rush of adrenaline hit. The ball had come so close, and if she hadn't moved when she did, it would've struck her squarely. The near miss left her momentarily breathless, but she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief, thankful that whatever had prompted her to act had saved her from harm.
"Hello, loser," came the all-too-familiar voice, cutting through the tense moment. It was Jack Hallow, one of Blair's lackeys. Akira could hardly believe she had let herself forget about this idiot. His cocky smirk spread across his face as he swaggered toward her, clearly pleased with himself for having just thrown the ball so dangerously close.
"Jerk Hallow," Akira spat with a mocking smirk, her voice laced with as much defiance as she could muster. She wanted to make sure her words hit hard, and in that moment, she reveled in the sharpness of them. Jack's smug grin faltered for an instant, a rare crack in his usually impenetrable arrogance. Clearly caught off guard by her retort, he stood frozen for a split second. Akira knew it was a dangerous move, but the fleeting moment of satisfaction that bloomed in her chest made it all feel worthwhile. It wasn't often that she fought back, but his relentless superiority had pushed her past the point of restraint.
"My name is Jack!" he snapped, his voice sharp and laced with fury, his face contorting into an expression of deep, raw anger. The intensity in his eyes was unmistakable—pure, unfiltered rage that radiated from every pore. It was abundantly clear that he couldn't bear being undermined, especially not in front of someone like her. Akira, however, had not made the mistake by chance; every word was deliberate, every slight intentional. To her, he was far more than simply "Jack"—he was a pompous, infuriating jerk, deserving of every ounce of disdain she could muster.
In Akira's eyes, Jack was a tiresome fool—a man who thought himself superior, simply because he hailed from an elite pack. His arrogance was stifling, his sense of entitlement a constant, oppressive weight that bore down on her every time they crossed paths. But today, Akira had reached her breaking point. The quiet act of defying him, calling him "Jerk Hallow," was her subtle rebellion—a small but powerful reclaiming of control in a situation where he so often made her feel small. It might have been a tiny act, but it was hers, and for that fleeting moment, it gave her a sense of triumph.
"You will show me respect or bear the consequences," Jack said, his teeth clenched tight as he spat the words with a venomous edge. His face was crimson with rage, the words cutting through the air like a sharp command that demanded obedience. He stood with his fists balled tightly, his eyes locking onto Akira's with a searing glare, daring her to challenge him.
"I choose to bear the consequences," Akira declared, her voice steady, though a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She forced herself to sound as calm and unshaken as possible, even though her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. Her gaze locked onto Jack's, and she hoped that the fierce determination in her eyes would make it clear—she wasn't afraid of the threats he was making.
The smirk on Akira's face wasn't just a gesture; it was a statement, a challenge. It was her way of saying that no matter what Jack had in store for her, she wasn't going to flinch, not even for a second. She stood her ground, ready to face whatever trouble he would bring her way, no matter how dire it might seem.
In the depths of her mind, Akira's thoughts burned with disdain. She would never, under any circumstances, show respect to Jack Hallow, not in this life, nor the next. She would rather chew on jagged stones than bend to his will.
"Fine!" Jack yelled, his voice sharp and filled with fury, his face contorted in a fierce snarl as he charged toward Akira. His muscles tensed as he swung his fist with force, aiming to strike her squarely. Akira, however, reacted with quick reflexes, twisting her body to the left and narrowly avoiding the blow by mere inches.
As Jack recoiled and prepared for another swing, Akira shifted once more, evading the punch with just enough room to spare. This time, Jack's intense momentum carried him too far forward, and with a loud clang, his head collided hard with the locker. The sharp sound of metal ringing echoed through the space as the force of the impact caused him to stagger backward. He rubbed his forehead in irritation, his glare now laced with a mix of seething anger and growing frustration, clearly agitated by his failed attempt.
All the students had already gathered, their eager faces glowing with excitement, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. It was as if they were awaiting a spectacle, a performance that promised to captivate them. Whenever there was a fight or someone being picked on, they seemed to feed off the drama, like vultures circling their prey. They were completely indifferent to the pain or distress it caused—what mattered was the thrill, the raw entertainment of it all, as if the suffering of others was simply a backdrop for their amusement.
"You b*tch!" Jack screamed, his voice thick with fury. His face contorted with rage, and in that moment, it was as if his entire being was overtaken by his anger. His eyes, blazing with an almost unnatural light, revealed the dark transformation beginning within him. His hands started to twitch, his fingers twisting as long, razor-sharp claws began to sprout, a physical manifestation of his beastly side coming to life, as though the feral part of him was clawing its way to the surface.
"Oh no," Akira thought to herself, a cold rush of panic coursing through her veins. The realization hit her like a heavy blow—she was completely outmatched by Jack. As an omega wolf, she had no powers yet, no strength, and no abilities to defend herself. Unlike the others, she wasn't capable of standing up to someone like him. Akira felt a sharp sense of helplessness flood her as she struggled to figure out how to navigate the dangerous situation she had found herself in. She had backed herself into a corner, and there seemed to be no way out.
Without warning, Jack lunged at her, his body moving with lightning speed as he closed the distance between them. His fist was already swinging toward her, and his intent was clear—to land another brutal punch. The students around them, eager and gleeful, practically radiated with excitement. Their faces lit up with anticipation, their eyes glued to the spectacle unfolding before them. Akira could feel the weight of their gloating stares, knowing they were enjoying her suffering. She could feel a searing, bitter anger rising within her, a fury directed not only at Jack but also at the students who cheered for her pain. She loathed how they seemed to take so much pleasure in her humiliation.
In the split second before Jack's punch could connect, Akira's mind raced. She had no other choice—she had to act fast. Summoning all the strength she could muster, she kicked out with all her might, aiming for the most vulnerable spot between his legs. The impact was immediate and brutal. Jack crumpled to the ground, his face contorted in agony as he screamed out in pain. His hands shot down instinctively to clutch his groin, and he writhed on the ground, unable to move from the sheer torment Akira had caused. For the first time in this encounter, Akira felt a flicker of hope—a small victory in the face of her overwhelming fear.