Lone Wolf's Attack

by Bobbie Jo Hart

  “The building you fought in is the main office. The headmaster lives on the top floor. Registration, enrollment, and other paperwork happen in that building. You saw the mail room and the garage. This building,” he pointed to a short, three-story building. “Is what we call the Den. Meals are served on the first floor. The second floor is a lounging space for hanging out and doing homework. The third floor has study rooms available to reserve. Breakfast is served after the morning run at six.”

  “Hold on, morning run?” I interrupted, and he grinned at me like a jackass.

  “Yes. Every morning, we meet Dr. Aspen at the Brick at four-thirty, and we run. Tomorrow morning is the ten mile—”

  “Ten miles?!”

  “Is that going to be a problem, princess?”

  My nails bit into my palms. “You wish, dog breath,” I muttered, and I heard him grumble beside me. “Where’s the Brick?”

  We were almost halfway to the dormitory, and I knew this sprawling campus would get old fast. “The Brick is where you fought. As I was saying, we meet Dr. Aspen at four-thirty, run, and then breakfast is served at six. Classes start at eight. Since you’re new, you’ll have to see the main office for a schedule after breakfast. Lunch is served at noon, and then dinner is served at seven.”

  We reached the dorm, and he paused outside under the canopy. “What classes do they offer?”

  “Why, are you wanting to major in sewing or something?”

  I blew out a breath in annoyance. “No, are you majoring in being a punk ass bitch?”

  He snarled as me, his eyes glowing, and he grabbed my wrist sharply. “Don’t fucking disrespect me, little girl.”

  “Ooh, I’m so scared! Help me! Help me!” I sarcastically squealed.

  He shoved me against the brick wall of the dormitory, my head cracking off the wall. Tears formed in my eyes, but I gritted my teeth. “You need to watch your fucking mouth. Not all wolves have my self control—”

  “Oh, is that what you call your little tantrum?”

  He backhanded me, and my probably broken nose smarted. My beast stirred, and I bared my teeth at him, my fingers twitching. I tried to punch him, but he caught my hands and pinned me. I thrashed angrily, my head throbbing.

  “You need to be put in your place.” His eyes glowed inches from mine. “This is your last warning, little girl. Watch your mouth.”

  He shoved away from me and released my wrists. Calculating my options, I clenched and unclenched my fists. I might not win a fight in my current battered condition, and I only started fights I could win. I could berate him, but I wasn’t in the best position to defend myself.

  Silence was my best bet, even though it felt like submission. I wanted to scratch his eyes out.

  “This is Phoenix Run.” He acted as if nothing had happened as he led me into the dorm. “Your room is Ethan’s old one. Because of his status, he had a room on the top floor, 802. The front desk has your keys. Dinner is served in one hour. Don’t be late.”

  He turned on his heel to leave. “Wait!” Suddenly, I felt so afraid. I was deep in the nest behind enemy lines. Without hope of escape. “What about the rest of the campus? Where are the classes? What kind of classes are there?”

  He paused in the doorway and looked back at me. “Do I look like a fucking tour guide? You put your bike up, and I showed you your room. I followed my orders.”

  “But—”

  His eyes flashed, and he clenched his teeth. “Did you already forget?” He looked me in the eye. “We aren’t fucking friends.”

  6

  God! Everyone here is so fucking rude!

  I wanted to pummel Asshat’s stupid face. Wolves were so volatile.

  I went up to the front desk, and a lanky kid with a black eye and a bandaged shoulder looked up from his book. He hardly looked eighteen.

  He eyed me like shit on the bottom of his shoe. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “The one who’s about to kick your ass, that’s who.” I leaned over the desk with my fists ready to hit something. “But I’d say someone already beat me to it.”

  He rolled his eyes and stood eye to eye with me. “We don’t let bitches in.”

  “Why don’t you ask your alpha, kid? He let me in. I’m supposed to take Ethan’s room.”

  He winced when I said the name. Either he had been there or word traveled fast. He looked anywhere but at me, as if he were trying to find something snappy to say, but words evaded him. “Lobo brought his… the keys by.”

  He nodded at a ring with two keys sitting on the edge of the counter. I snagged them, half expecting him to swipe them away before I could touch them. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he sat back down in the chair and picked his book back up.

  I turned to the elevators and pressed the up button. While I waited, I shifted my bag on my shoulder and began to casually go through it. Behind me, the door opened and two men came in, laughing. They paused at the front desk to greet the kid and then progressed over to me.

  “Hey sugar,” one of them greeted, and his friend shoved him playfully. “Shame what happened to old Griff out there, huh?”

  Not saying anything, I just stared at the elevator, willing it to open while I fumbled around in the rucksack.

  “We saw you fight, baby.” The other one leaned against the wall beside the lift. “I can tell you’re a girl that likes it rough.”

  I rolled my eyes in annoyance and shifted my weight, favoring my bad ankle. If I really had to do the ten-mile run tomorrow, I was going to be in a world of hurt.

  “Hey, bitch, we’re talking to you.”

  I bit my cheek so hard I tasted blood. The elevator dinged, and finally, the doors opened. I got on quickly, but to my dismay, the men followed. I pressed the number for my floor, and one of the guys loomed behind me. Finally, I found the object I was searching for. Naturally, it’d fallen to the bottom of the fucking bag.

  “I’m on floor eight, too.”

  Ignoring them, I put some distance between us. I hadn’t gotten a good look at them out of the corner of my eye. One was taller, but they were both fairly broad and muscular. I resisted the urge to shift my weight off my sore ankle. I didn’t want them to sense any weakness.

  The elevator doors finally shut, and ever so slowly, it crept upwards.

  “You know,” the bigger of the two--and definitely the most annoying--started, “it’s been a while since we’ve had something to play with.”

  He reached out to touch my face. I pulled my pepper spray out of the bag, the safety already off and ready for action. I sprayed a nice satisfying cloud into his face. Choking, he recoiled.

  “Keep your paws off me, mutt.”

  The other man stood frozen, watching his friend groan and rub his eyes. He glanced at me, and I held the pepper spray up, bracing myself. “Stay there, Scooby, or you’re next.”

  The guy grinned sheepishly and put his hands up. This academy is a fucking nightmare.

  “Why don’t you and the Mystery Gang spread the word that if you want to act like a dog, I will make you my bitch.”

  Scooby nodded at me as Shaggy continued to groan and rub his face. We stood in silence, aside from Shaggy’s pathetic whines, until the doors opened. I stepped out first as Scooby helped his friend. I could hear him seething and calling me a bitch to his friend from behind me, but I rolled my eyes and continued down the hallway, looking for my room.

  I finally found 802 and turned the key. The door swung open, and I realized it had not been cleared out yet. There were dirty clothes strewn across the floor, rumpled button-down shirts and wadded-up dress pants. An academy blazer had been tossed over the desk chair.

  A wave of nausea tore through me, and I raced to the bathroom, dropping my rucksack in the doorway. I dry heaved over the toilet, choking. I got Ethan killed, and now I was taking his room. He was an actual person. He probably had people on the outside that cared about him. I dry heaved again, my ribs aching.

  Once the spel
l passed, I curled up against the bathtub, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them. What was I doing here? What had I gotten myself into?

  I wiped my eyes and sniffled, the weak attempt at vomiting making my nose runny. Even the bathtub and counter had men’s products and an old razor. It made me feel even more out of place here. I went back into the room and grabbed my bag. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that I had thirty minutes before dinner. I stripped the dirty sheets off the mattress and sighed with relief when I found a backup set folded on the top shelf of the closet. I quickly made the bed and changed the pillow sheets, trying to rid my mind of the way Ethan looked on the ground.

  I emptied my rucksack onto the newly-made bed. Frowning, I took a tally of my meager possessions. I had a few wadded up tanks, two flannels, two pairs of jeans, one pair of ratty leggings, four wadded up pairs of mismatched socks, one bra, and a handful of panties. The half-used hospital toiletries, old plastic comb, and the dull, old drugstore razor made Ethan’s leftovers seem like a luxury.

  My toothbrush was old, and my toothpaste was almost out. My pepper spray, my taser, along with its charger, and my rusty old pocket knife were my only “fun” items. All the others were necessities, but these I had found were basic needs too. My one and only prized possession in my bag was the first-aid kit that Mom bought for me when I had just started learning to fight. I always kept it fully stocked and took it everywhere I went.

  This was all I had. These shitty, tattered things were the only things I could call mine.

  I slowly stripped off my clothes, wincing as every movement triggered an injury. Getting the boot off my injured ankle was by far the most painful part. Despite him biting me through the jeans and part of my boot, he had broken skin, and it was already bruised and swollen. I sat down on the bed in my bra and panties, examining my injuries. Opening my kit, I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure how limited supplies would be here, so I had to be conservative. However, I also knew that even with my injured ankle, I wouldn’t catch a break to heal. I couldn’t show any sign of weakness. I grabbed a bandage and wrapped my ankle tightly.

  My ribs had started bruising as well, but there wasn’t much I could do for that. My knuckles were bloody and my lip was busted, all of which I was used to. My broken nose was my only real concern. It had stopped bleeding, but it was still swollen and painful. I went to the bathroom, where I could look in the mirror, and right away, I knew it was crooked. I had about ten minutes to get my nose fixed up before I had to leave for dinner.

  I swore under my breath. Setting my nose always hurt like a bitch. I grabbed the plastic comb and a dirty tank top and went back to the mirror. I put the tank top between my teeth and slowly pushed the comb into my nose, pinching the bridge with my fingers. I clamped my teeth down on the tank top as I felt my nose being pushed back into alignment, tears already starting to fall down my cheeks. Jesus. This never got easier, did it?

  Once I felt like I had gotten it straightened back out, for the most part, I pulled the comb out and pressed toilet paper to my bleeding nose. I held it there while I used my free hand to dress the wound, knowing I’d look like an idiot, but also knowing that I had no other option. After it was secured, I washed my comb in the sink and replaced the bloodied toilet paper with a new wad. I went back to the room and dressed as quickly as I could with one hand, swearing when the zipper of my boot put pressure on my ankle.

  I grabbed the keys from the bed and shoved them in my back pocket, along with the pepper spray and taser for good measure, leaving the knife with my stuff. I didn’t want to bring a knife to a dog fight. I wiped my nose one more time with the toilet paper, hoping the bleeding had stopped for good, and rushed out the door. Men were walking around in the hall, a few headed to the elevator while a couple chatted in the hallway. They all sent me leering looks, a few wolf-whistling at me as I passed, but I kept my distance.

  I made it to the elevator and found Scooby without Shaggy. We were the only two waiting for the next lift, and he gave me a sheepish smile.

  He held his hand out to me. “Hey, I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself before. I’m Lobo.”

  I bit my cheek. I didn’t trust this guy at all, but I was also curious. I took his hand in mine, giving him a firm handshake. “I’m Mel.”

  He grinned a little less sheepishly this time, and we dropped our hands. “I’m uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the elevator, behind him, and then back at me. “I’m sorry about earlier. Hunter can be a bit much.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” I muttered bitterly, and he grimaced. The elevator dinged and we both got on. He pressed the main floor and the doors shut.

  He turned to me, trying again. “I’m sorry. It just seems like you’ve had a rough day—”

  “You think? What part gave that away?” I knew I sounded harsh, but I also remembered what Axel had said. Nobody wanted me here. There were no friends at Wolf Point. Especially not for me.

  He frowned. “I’m just saying that Hunter shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

  “You’re right.” What else was there to say? Hey Lobo, let’s hold hands and sing kumbaya. As if. I couldn’t trust any of these bitches. I had to stay focused. All I was here to do was to learn how to tame my wolf so that I could save Mom before it was too late.

  There was another beat of awkward silence between us as we waited to get to the bottom floor, but the lift stopped on four.

  The doors opened and another man got on. He was almost as tall as Lobo, with black hair and cold eyes. I knew from just looking at him that I hated his guts. Then he opened his mouth. “So you’re the bitch with a bite?”

  My lips twitched, and Lobo tensed beside me. “And you’re the guy about to get bit. What do you want?”

  He smirked at me. “For such a little plaything, you sure have a temper. Hasn’t anyone tried to tame you yet?”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  He grinned at me as if I’d offered him a blowjob. I moved my hand towards my pocket, ready to whip out my taser and zap his ass. Who the fuck did he think he was? “Are you offering?”

  “No, I’m threatening. Put your hands on me, and you’ll wish I had killed you.”

  His eyes started to glow, and I knew mine looked that way too. My wolf writhed inside me.

  “I love it when they fight—”

  “Cut it out, Jorak,” Lobo warned behind me.

  My eyes widened. Jorak? As in Headmaster Jorak?

  “Such a stick in the mud, Emerson.” He grumbled, but he did back off.

  I wasn’t fooled. I kept the taser gripped tightly.

  The elevator finally dinged, and Jorak Jr. sent me one last look before rushing off. When I stepped out, Lobo was still by my side.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” I whispered fiercely as we walked across the lobby to the door. “I had it handled.”

  “And what was your plan, sugar? Tase the headmaster’s son? Hasn’t anyone explained anything to you at all?”

  I shrugged. He acted like tasing a creep was some big deal. “Kinda? Look, it doesn’t take a degree in rocket science to understand nepotism.”

  He stopped in his tracks and grabbed me by my elbow. I scowled up at him. “Mel, listen to me. The number one rule here is that pack is everything. We protect the pack at all costs. Imagine how the alpha would react to finding out that you had tased or maimed his son. Punishments are serious here, and an offense like that…”

  I huffed and pulled my arm out of his grip. “Alright, alright. Fine! I don’t get why you give a shit though.”

  He frowned again at me, as if I had insulted him. “Can’t I just be nice?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Nobody’s ever just nice, especially not to a stranger.”

  “Well, I guess someone has to take one for the team and be the good guy.”

  “I’m not some charity case, pal.”

  “No, of course not! That’s not what I meant—”

  �
�Lobo! Hey!” Someone came running up behind us and threw an arm around Lobo before looking down at me and scowling. “Why are you hanging out with this bitch?”

  I grinned at him and batted my eyes coyly. “Forget your place, Shaggy?”

  Shaggy’s, or as Lobo had called him, Hunter’s, eyes were red and swollen. “You need to learn your place, bitch. No little toys or tricks to save you. A fair fight.”

  I ran my tongue across my teeth and smiled at him. “As soon as I’m good as new, I’ll beat your ass so hard, candy’ll come out.”

  “Friday Night is Fight Night. I get the first round with you.”

  It was Wednesday night. Two days wouldn’t be enough to completely heal up, but I also knew he would most likely not be the only person wanting to fight me this week.

  I held my hand out, and he scrutinized me before shaking it. “Deal. First one to cry like a bitch loses.”

  “So what’s Fight Night?” I asked Lobo as we kept walking. Hunter kept scowling at me from the other side of his friend like a toddler with a grudge.

  “Every Friday night everyone gets together at Wolf Hollow and we fight. Even professors and sometimes the headmaster will attend. This is the only time the fight rules don’t apply.”

  “Rules? Like what?”

  “Usually, you have to fight your opponent in the same form. Skin to skin, or wolf to wolf. It doesn’t matter on Fight Night.” He seemed so nonchalant in his explanation.

  I kept a straight face, but deep down, my stomach twisted. What had I just agreed to? I glanced over at Hunter, who had started up a different talk with Lobo as I thought my thoughts.

  I was supposed to fight on Fight Night, unable to shift? How the hell was I supposed to fist fight a giant dog? I was so totally fucked, oh my god.

  “You’re not tucking tail on me, are you, pup?” Hunter taunted, and my fingers twitched, ready to curl into fists and throw hands.