If the green-haired wolf from earlier had been hot, this one made her swallow hard, torn between fear and anticipation. He was so tall that she could almost call him a giant. His long red hair was tied back in a bun, a style that should’ve made him look effeminate, but it only enhanced his raw, masculine presence.
He looked like a Viking straight out of an old movie, with thick, sculpted muscles that made his biceps and pecs bulge under what could barely be called a uniform. His blazer was nowhere to be seen, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hard, tanned chest and a teasing glimpse of a tattoo she couldn’t make out from her angle.
In short, the red-haired male was dangerously attractive. And unless she was into some dark beauty-and-the-beast romance, this was the moment of reckoning because the beast looked like he was about to snap her in half.
He towered over her, hatred burning in his eyes, with his lips curled into a snarl. Violent whimpered inwardly, what did she do wrong, Mr. Beast?
His eyes lock onto the necklace in her hand, and without warning, he lunge to snatch it. Violet acted instinctively, dodging and pushing it away from his reach. “Hey, that’s not -“
Violet couldn’t finish it because he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. What the fuck? Her eyes nearly bulged out of her eye. What in the name of madness was going on here? And why was no one stepping out from the sea of students to help her?
It dawned on Violet no one was coming for her. If anything, they looked away as if she was not getting strangled in the lobby by some brute. Cold dread washed over Violet as she realized this guy could murder her right here and then and no one would say a word. What kind of crazy was this?
“I don’t know what you and Roman are up to,” he hissed, his voice thick with menace, “but touch my stuff again, and I’ll kill you. For real.”
His stuff?
Oh no.
Violet instantly figured out that he was the owner of the necklace. In that case, does that mean the green-haired guy stole from him? It finally made sense why he had been running. And thanks to the asshole, she was about to be murdered. Was that the punishment for stealing in this institution? Somebody help her! Nobody informed her about this.
Violet’s vision blurred, the edges of her sight darkening as she struggled for air. His rage was overwhelming, radiating off him in hot, angry waves. She could feel his hands shaking, not from fear, but from the sheer effort it took to hold back his strength from crushing her neck.
And then, just as quickly as it started, the brute flung her away like she was nothing.
Violet hit the ground hard, pain shooting up her spine as she crumpled in a heap. She watched as he bent down and picked up the necklace that fell on the ground and left her alone, thankfully.
Breathless and trembling, Violet lay there, the sting of humiliation and the terror of nearly dying clinging to her skin. Before she could gather herself, a shadow fell over her.
God, who was it this time?
She looked up and forgot how to breathe. Does this academy only accept fine, attractive males, or what?
A tall and commanding guy stood before her. He wore dark shades, indoors of all places, and something about his presence made her instincts scream. Who wears sunglasses inside? Call it instincts but something told her the shades weren’t just for fashion but necessity. It was something else, something darker.
And yet, she found herself checking him out. His jet-black hair was faded at the sides, while the longer strands fell messily over his face, screaming he was due for a haircut soon. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he didn’t carry the bulk of the redhead or the lean grace of the green-haired thief. Yet his uniform clung perfectly to his athletic frame, highlighting his jock-like physique. Violet’s heart pounded, and an inexplicable tingle spread through her, heat pooling low in her belly.
What the hell was wrong with her today? It had to be the overload of handsome faces; if she’d known Lunaris Academy had this many striking men, she might have mentally prepared herself better.
For a split second, their gazes locked, or at least, she thought they did. Beneath those shades, she sensed the weight of his eyes assessing her. Part of her hoped, foolishly, that he’d help her up. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, his lips curled into a cold, mocking smile, the kind that made Violet feel like prey-a plaything to be toyed with.
His eyes roved up and down her body and her breath hitched, not out of attraction, but sudden fear. She had dealt with guys like this before back at her old school, and Violet knew better than to trust men with that dark, brooding intensity. Whatever drew her to him, it was nothing good.
Suddenly, his lips curled into a wild, unsettling smile. “Welcome, my purple flower. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
What the hell?
Violet stormed down the hallway in huge strides, as if the devil himself were right on her heels. Given what she’d just experienced, he might as well have been. Not even the time she was nearly choked to death rattled her as much as that weirdo did. And the worst part? He hadn’t even done much. Yet somehow, that little bit was enough to make her realize she’d made a colossal mistake coming here.
He didn’t do much after calling her, what was it again? Purple flower? Ugh. What did he think she was? Some helpless damsel in distress? But it was his next statement that really sent ice through her veins.
“Trust me, I can’t wait to see you in bed too.”
With that, he left, but the chill he left behind clung to her like frost. Worse, it was the way he’d looked at her-hungrily-as if she were covered in thick, mouthwatering chocolate, and he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into her.
Yeah, no. That was definitely not happening.
It was probably nothing, Violet tried to tell herself. Just a bored, psychopathic alpha getting a thrill from seeing a helpless human on her knees or something. But no matter how hard she tried to brush it off, a nagging feeling gnawed at her insides. There was something at play here. Something she wasn’t fully aware of, but could feel it.
After all, what were the odds that she’d bump into a guy who turned out to be a thief, then got manhandled by another, only to meet the last creepy, disturbingly handsome one in quick succession? This wasn’t just a coincidence; it felt orchestrated. Her instincts, honed by years of surviving in rough places, screamed that something was off. And deep down, she knew.
Surely, applications to this school were approved by the administration, not students, right? Because if students had any say in who was admitted, she was royally screwed.
Violet shook her head to dispel the thought. What was she even thinking? Of course, the principal approved the applications, not random students. And she was about to meet that very principal. The one who had read her very COLORFUL application form.
A blush crept up her cheeks at the thoughts. At least now, she might finally learn why she’d been accepted even though her submission had been… far from ideal.
By the time she reached the principal’s office, Violet’s neck was throbbing with a hot, angry pain. She had been rubbing that spot for a while now, it was too painful to ignore.
She knocked on the door and heard a “come in.” from the inside.
Principal Jameson’s office was a world apart from the cramped, cluttered space Violet had known at her former school. It was so spacious, she could easily imagine spreading a bed and still having enough room to go about her duties.
The decor was sleek and polished, giving off an air of sophistication. The desk, positioned at the center of the room, was immaculate. Only a name tag, a modern laptop, a small flower pot, and a few neatly stacked files occupied the surface. Compared to the document chaos of her old principal’s office, this was the epitome of order and elegance.
Principal Jameson was quite a stunning woman and she smiled up at her as soon as their eyes met. “Welcome, Violet…..” her expression faltered the next seconds when she saw the angry red mark.
In the twinkle of an eye, the principal had shot up to her feet, closing the space between them with horror etched on her face.
“Who did this to you?” she demanded, her voice laced with concern.
For the first time since she arrived, Violet felt a spark of vindication. Finally, someone was going to do something about that brute.
Without wasting time, Violet narrated the whole encounter, precisely describing the red-haired werewolf in detail, but as she spoke, she noticed the principal’s expression shifting from anger to something far more unsettling: fear.
“You mean Griffin Hale did this to you?”
“Griffin Hale? Is that his name?” she asked. It was quite a nice name.
“Miss Purple,” the principal began, her tone far more cautious, “I understand you’re upset, but what happened was likely just… playful roughhousing. Things here are different from your former school and while it can get a bit intense, but it’s all in good fun.”
At once, Violet’s expression shifted, her fury boiled over. Playful roughhousing? He had nearly killed her!
“Principal Jameson, Griffin Hale nealy -” She was about to argue, but there was something in the principal’s eyes, a flicker of fear or perhaps a silent warning that made her pause.
Unwilling to clash with the school authority on her first day, Violet swallowed her retort, but not her anger. If the principal wouldn’t pursue this matter, then one way or another, she would take matters into her own hands and make sure that red-haired brute paid.
Although Violet had no idea how she would get revenge against a creature who could snap her in two, she would find a way. She always did.
“I’m sorry you had such an awful experience, Miss Purple, but trust me, the boys aren’t always like this. Just think of it as a guy pulling on a girl’s ponytail to get her attention.” Principal Jameson said.
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