Chapter 2: Game On

Chapter 2: Game On

"Good morning, Principal Jameson," students echoed in the hallway as they passed the austere middle-aged woman, whose heels resounded sharply against the marble floor with a steady click-clack.

"Good morning. Good morning," Principal Jameson answered enthusiastically, her hawk-like eyes sweeping over the students, always on the lookout for any defaulters of the academy's rules. And today, she found more than enough.

A female student was pinned against a locker, her legs wrapped around a male student as they engaged in a passionate kiss. His hands gripped her butt as he ground against her in full view of the hundreds of students passing by. The sight was so inappropriate for an institution of learning that Principal Jameson's face flushed with anger and embarrassment.

Despite her anger, Principal Jameson approached them calmly, knocking lightly on the locker next to them to get their attention.

But they didn't budge. Or rather, they pretended not to hear her, the girl moaning louder, almost deliberately, as if to provoke her further.

"Alright, that's enough!" Principal Jameson banged her fist on the locker, finally breaking them apart. The girl was the first to look up, her face painted with fake surprise.

"I didn't know you were here, Principal Jameson," she lied through her sparkling white teeth, still catching her breath.

The girl was Amanda Raynes, one of the rich, entitled humans. A brat she had to deal with every day.

"I bet you didn't," Jameson said coldly, "Not when your tongue was shoved down his throat." She glanced at the red-haired boy beside her, Griffin Hale, who had yet to say a word.

Amanda giggled, her eyes flashing with amusement. "It was a good 'shove,' though," she teased, casting a sultry look at Griffin.

Jameson flushed with barely contained fury but tried to maintain her composure as she turned to Griffin Hale, a brute standing at six foot two. He was just a kid but was built like a bodybuilder, an edge his werewolf lineage had given him.

Not just that, he was a "special" werewolf. Despite being a student, Griffin Hale carried the aura of someone who could snap you in half if he wanted.

"Mr. Hale," she said, her voice tight, "isn't it a little early for public displays of affection in the middle of the hallway?"

His response was a low, menacing growl. "Fuck off!"

Jameson recoiled, losing her composure for a moment. She wasn't used to being spoken to like that.

Before she could recover, Griffin continued, "Next time you interrupt me, you better be ready to offer yourself up."

"Mr. Hale!" Principal Jameson gasped, her face reddening in both fury and embarrassment. "That is an entirely inappropriate comment toward your principal!"

She glanced around, hoping no other students had heard, but of course, it was impossible in a school full of werewolves with heightened senses. Everyone was staring, and she knew this incident would be all over the academy's gossip forums by the end of the day. To make matters worse, Griffin had already turned his back on her and was walking away.

Desperate to reassert her authority, she shouted, "That's a hundred points deducted for inappropriate behavior, Mr. Hale!"

Griffin didn't even look back, he simply raised a middle finger in response, eliciting laughter from the surrounding students.

"Two hundred points, then!" she snapped, but the punishment seemed meaningless. His arrogance was unbearable, and the students' laughter only deepened her frustration.

This time, Griffin turned around and made a crude gesture, forming a circle with one hand and inserting his finger through it. The vulgar sign sent waves of laughter through the crowd.

wanted to shout more, to hurl further punishment at him, but the sight of students recording the scene on their phones

left, she turned to the group

not all of them—certainly not the cardinal

remind her of this reality, Roman Draven, another cardinal alpha, came hurtling down the hallway on a

forced to step aside, her carefully styled hair whipped by the rush of

temper finally breaking. "Two hundred points for an unsanctioned ride in the hallway, Mr.

did not care. He just laughed, riding away without a care in the

dissolve into a simmering helplessness. However, she took a deep breath, straightening her skirt and composing herself.

of. She had overseen this prestigious institution for years, ever since her predecessor had retired. The arrival of the cardinal alphas would not undo

briskly in the direction of her office. She had more pressing matters to deal with, like sorting through the

the rich and privileged. It had gained even more prestige when the current alpha king, who had once been a student here, married the academy's top human graduate, elevating her

a similar pattern, seeking out the academy's outstanding female

Like an extinct level. The academy had only one she-wolf, and Jameson knew

foot in such a revered institution. But every year, thanks to the alpha king's magnanimity, one lucky student from each district

decision who would receive that golden opportunity. The thought gave

couldn't wait to

a tune, Jameson entered her office and turned around, only to scream bloody murder. Someone was sitting in her chair, their back to her. Before she could

The blood drained from

Not this one.

was one she feared above all

Asher Nightshade.

star, with his perfectly styled dark hair and

he ever took off those glasses, he could

protect others from his gaze, it didn't lessen the

been waiting for you, Jameson. You took your sweet time today," Asher drawled, his

was slicked back into a perfect ponytail, not a strand out of place, and her form-fitting skirt had not a

a smile. "Mr. Nightshade, what a surprise. Though I would have appreciated if you had waited for me

chuckled. "Where's the fun in

she avoided him whenever possible. Asher was the most unpredictable of

her bag on it, and asked in her most businesslike

why I like you, Jameson. Always straight to the point." His voice dripped with amusement,

her "Principal Jameson" as proper etiquette required, but the words stuck in her throat. Jameson knew better. Asher Nightshade might just

scholarship students

instantly. She eyed him cautiously. "Why, may I ask, are you interested in that,

the applications this year," he replied with

breath knocked out of her.

not your jurisdiction, Mr. Nightshade. I am responsible for reviewing and approving all applications. Besides, why would you care? Your role here is

smile widening as if she had made a joke. "Because the students you brought in last

what he meant by "boring." The students she

"Mr. Nightshade—"

way, or should I make it hard? Though, honestly, it wouldn't be hard at all.

hand moved toward his shades as though he were about to lower them, but instead, he ran

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