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CHAPTER 5
~Spring's POV~
By the time I reached my locker, my fingers were finally starting to relax from gripping the new phone.
I hadn't even opened the box yet, though every fibre of me wanted to.
If Beatrice had replaced it properly, it would be an upgrade from what was destroyed—perhaps even linked to whatever Eryx could use to trace who originally planted the fake love letter.
I tugged my locker open with one hand, digging around for a textbook. My other hand hovered over the sealed phone box, thumb brushing the edge of the tape.
I just needed a second—just a second to breathe.
But then—something prickled down the back of my neck.
The kind of sensation that wasn't normal. The kind that made your spine stiffen before your brain caught up, like a predator stalking his prey, a predator too close and ready to tear your head off.
The presence was sharp and warm, but so uncomfortably wrong. Somehow familiar.
The chatter in the hallway had faded into white noise, making every hair on my arms stand.
Someone's watching.
My fingers froze just above the book's spine. Then—
"Rael!"
The name cut through the fog in my head like a thunderclap.
My heart stuttered. Once. Twice. Then it slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might break free.
The hallway blurred automatically. Sound dulled. The lockers, the voices, the scent of shampoo and perfume—all of it vanished under the roar of that name.
Rael.
A face I'd never once forgotten flashed before my eyes—the perfect blue eyes, long black hair that framed his face and fell down loosely around his back, a deep voice that left my core tightening, a memory and a hand plunging through my chest as blood spilt like ink on snow
Sharp pain coursed through my body in one go, as pain unlike any other, not from my wound or crushed heart, but from the hurt of a broken heart.
Betrayal.
"Hey, Xavin!"
I swallowed as the voice broke me from my train of thought, forcefully pulling me back to reality. My breath caught in my throat.
I turned slowly because I had to, and then I saw him.
A boy stood at the far end of the corridor, near the school's archway, where the morning light pooled in quiet rays.
He was taller than most guys and slightly shorter or at the same level as the alphas. His presence made him feel larger than the hallway itself.
His black hair fell past his shoulders in loose, gleaming waves, not a strand out of place. His skin was pale—almost ethereal. But it was his eyes that made the air leave my lungs.
Blue, bright as the deep sea—shimmering faintly with a flicker of red.
Ra-aeel?
I stood, frozen in place as the man from my nightmare stood before me but even at that, my brain did the best she could, checking every possible similarity and striking them out.
"He doesn't look like him," I told myself.
And yet… he did.
The same feeling. That unspoken, dreadful gravity, that weight of something ancient—someone I once knew. Feared.Loved?
No.
I took a slow step back.
My fingers lost their grip on the phone box, but I caught it just before it hit the floor.
The boy hadn't moved. He hadn't even noticed me yet.
But I saw him. And that was enough.
I turned on my heel, slamming the locker shut with a sharp clang and bolted down the hall like I'd been burned.
I didn't stop until I reached my classroom door, heart thundering like war drums in my chest.
I leaned against the frame, one hand on my stomach, willing myself not to throw up. My pulse was too loud in my ears, drowning out the buzz of the students around me.
I didn't know who he was—not in this life, but I knew that name and Moon goddess be praised. But what the heck was this lady doing, bringing back my pain in the form of a walking memory?
Rael.
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~Beatrice's POV~
The hallway was its usual mess of footsteps, perfume clouds, snickering whispers swirling like flies. I didn't hear a damn thing because my blood was still boiling after I hnded over the phone to Valerie.
I shoved into the girls' restroom, pushing past the cluster of junior girls right outside, gossiping.
"Move it, bitches," and slammed the door behind me. Locked it.
I took out my phone from my back and dialled the familiar number, one I had tried not to save, just to make sure I could get clean in any situation.
The phone rang as I pressed it to my ear and snapped, "You better pick up, Rose."
One ring. Two.
Click.
Her sultry, provocative voice rang out sharply. "Beatrice. I told you to destroy that phone. Why haven't you sent me the confirmation yet?"
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the sink, my jaw already tightening.
"I did destroy it," I hissed sharply. "You think I didn't hear you the first time?"
I could picture her blinking, probably lounging somewhere with a face mask on like she wasn't the reason I was stuck cleaning her mess.
"You just never told me the little psycho could fight back."
There was a pause. Then a scoff—classic Rose. Condescending and smug.
"Excuse me? Are you blaming me now?"
I gave a short, bitter laugh. There was no humour in my tone, just pressure release.
"I had to buy her a new phone just to keep the school from turning on me. You said she was nothing. That she'd take the fall, shut her mouth, and disappear. You didn't say she had backup. That her damn brothers would show up."
"What new phone?" she snapped. Her tone turned sharp, panicked, maybe. That made me smile—just a little.
I checked my nails—still chipped from all this stress. Disgusting.
"And did you say brothers?" she asked, her voice rising as reality dawned on her.
"Since you claim that they are your beloved brothers, why don't you ask them, huh?"
I heard her groan a little, which brought me satisfaction to he mess.
Ignoring her tantrum, I stated, "I forwarded the receipt and my account number. You owe me," I said coldly now. "I want a Full refund and damages. You're lucky that's all I'm asking for."
"Are you serious right now?"
"Dead serious. Don't contact me again until I see that money, I mean it, Rose. And next time, go for her yourself."
I hung up before she could reply. Let her sit with that.
The phone burned in my hand, so I tossed it into my bag like it was toxic. My chest rose and fell too fast. Rage simmered just beneath the surface, begging to boil.
This wasn't how any of it was supposed to go.
I turned toward the mirror and stared at my reflection. My hands gripped the edge of the sink so hard the porcelain creaked.
Then it snapped.
The control, the mask, the lie.
My eyes shifted—bright amber bleeding into the whites, glowing like molten gold. My fangs dropped with a click.
My claws—long, sleek, sharp—pushed past the edge of my fingernails like razors sliding into place.
I didn't blink. Just stared at my reflection.
At the girl Rose used. The girl Spring humiliated—the girl they all underestimated.
"Damn you, Spring Kaine," I whispered in a thick, twisted and gruttal voice.
I leaned in, nose almost touching the mirror.
"I'll make you pay for this. You and your bitch sister."