Chapter 4 - 2

At lunch, I take my tray to the same table as yesterday. Luna isn't there. Neither are the other students who seemed friendly. I sit alone in the corner, surrounded by empty chairs.

The cafeteria buzzes with conversation, but it dies when I walk by. Heads turn. Eyes stare. Whispers follow.

I try to eat, but the food tastes like ash in my mouth. My stomach churns with anxiety. With the sick certainty that this is only the beginning.

A shadow falls across my table. I look up to see three girls standing there. Alphas, judging by their confident stance and predatory smiles.

"Mind if we sit?" the leader asks. She doesn't wait for an answer.

They settle around me like wolves cornering prey. Their scents are expensive perfume and barely contained violence.

"We wanted to introduce ourselves," the leader continues. Her name tag says 'Madison.' "Since you're new and all."

I don't respond. Every instinct screams danger.

"We heard about your little performance yesterday," another girl adds. "With Ronan."

His name hits like a physical blow. The bond in my chest throbs with agony.

"That was so brave," Madison says with false admiration. "Throwing yourself at someone so far above your station. Really showed everyone what Omegas are capable of."

Their laughter scrapes my ears raw. My wolf cringes back, tail between her legs, too humiliated to even growl. The scent of their expensive perfume mixes with something sharper. Satisfaction. They're enjoying my pain.

"But now we're worried about you," the third girl chimes in. "All alone. No friends. No protection."

"This school can be dangerous for wolves without a pack," Madison adds. "Accidents happen. People get hurt."

The threat is crystal clear. I'm being hunted. Marked for destruction.

"We want to help," Madison continues. "Make sure you understand how things work here."

She reaches across the table and grabs my wrist. Her nails dig into my skin hard enough to leave marks. My wolf snarls low in my chest, more wounded than angry. I force her down. There's no point in fighting a war we've already lost.

"Rule one: Know your place. You're an Omega. Bottom of the food chain. You don't speak unless spoken to. Don't look Alphas in the eye. Don't think you deserve anything more than scraps."

Her grip tightens. I can feel bruises forming.

"Rule two: Stay away from your betters. That means Alphas. Betas. Anyone with actual worth."

"Rule three," the second girl adds, "remember that you're only here on charity. One word from the right person, and you're gone."

They're talking about Ronan. About how easily he could destroy what little I have left.

"Understand?" Madison asks.

I nod because I have no choice.

"Good girl." She releases my wrist and stands. "We'll be watching you. Making sure you follow the rules."

They walk away laughing. Their conversation carries across the cafeteria, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Did you see her face?"

"So pathetic."

"Ronan was right to reject her."

"Omegas never learn."

I look down at my wrist. Five perfect nail marks bloom purple against my pale skin. Physical proof of what I've become.

A target.

The rest of lunch passes in a haze of hostile stares and cruel whispers. Every time I look up, someone is watching me. Judging me. Finding me lacking.

When the bell rings, I dump my untouched food and head for the exit. But the hallway brings no relief. If anything, it's worse.

Someone trips me. I catch myself before falling, but my dignity is already gone.

"Watch where you're going, Omega," a voice calls.

Laughter echoes off the walls.

In third period, I find a note taped to my desk: "Sluts don't belong in advanced classes."

The teacher either doesn't notice or doesn't care. I crumple the paper and shove it in my bag with the others.

During fourth period, someone dumps water on my chair before I sit down. My clothes soak through immediately. I spend the rest of class cold and wet and humiliated.

"Accidents happen," the culprit shrugs when I glare at her.

By the time school ends, I'm exhausted. Defeated. Every cruel word and hostile glare has chipped away at my defenses until there's nothing left.

I walk to my locker in a daze. My reflection in the metal door shows a girl I barely recognize. Hollow-eyed. Broken. A shadow of who I was yesterday.

The combination won't work. I try three times before realizing someone has superglued the lock. Vandalized my only safe space.

Hot tears burn my eyes. I lean my forehead against the cold metal and let them fall.

This is my life now. This is what Ronan's rejection has cost me.

Everything.

"Having trouble?" a familiar voice asks.

I turn to see Luna standing there. Her face is carefully neutral, but I can see pity in her eyes.

"I'm fine," I lie.

"No, you're not." She steps closer. "What they're doing to you... it's not right."

"It's what I deserve," I whisper. The words taste like poison.

"No one deserves this."

But she's wrong. I reached too high. Wanted something I had no right to want. And now I'm paying the price.

"Why are you talking to me?" I ask. "Won't you get in trouble?"

Her eyes flick down the hall nervously before she speaks. Something flickers across her face. Fear, maybe. Or guilt.

"I just wanted you to know," she says quietly, "you think Ronan's rejection was the worst part? That was just his opening move. It's going to get worse before it gets better."

The words hit like ice water. There's knowledge in her voice. Like she knows something I don't.

"What do you mean?"

But she's already walking away. Already distancing herself from the toxic waste of my existence.

I stand there alone in the empty hallway, understanding finally sinking in.

This isn't random bullying. This isn't just cruel teenagers being cruel.

This is organized. Planned. Orchestrated.

Ronan didn't just reject me yesterday.

He declared war.