"What!?" I blurted out loud. He traced his finger underneath my chin until it met just below my lips, pushing my head up and my emerald eyes met his.
"You heard clearly. You're my mate," his voice was low, gravelly but clear. I could understand what he meant. I opened my mouth to protest.
"B-But- Mmmph!" I was cut off by his lips meeting mine, a searing feeling that made my stomach feel...strange. Like there were a million little lights, flashing and dancing and maneuvering about, all in my internal organs. It made me feel rather uncomfortable, yet, at the same time...it was pleasant. I couldn't remember feeling like this towards anyone except for an ex-boyfriend that I had had years ago... Some prat by the name of Justin that had ended up cheating on me anyways. That was a story for another time.
All at once, the sensation ended as someone grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me backwards and sending me sprawling once more onto the floor.
"A-Ouch! What the fuck?!" I snarled, anger rushing through my veins and adrenaline coursing through me as I prepared for a fight. Who could it be? Who had ripped me away from the sexy unbelievably coarse and pig-headed pervert that had dared to try and kiss me?
"Ooh, look, the emo dyke's got a boyfriend! Heh," The high-pitched and snotty voice of a familiar senior girl caught my attention, and I turned my head to see Stacy. The popular, preppy, pink-lipstick-wearing bitch that had been making my life a living hell thus far. "But wait, you're not a lesbian, if you've got a boyfriend. So you're not a dyke. You're just a slut." I was about to get up and rip her a new asshole, when, out of the blue, she got shoved roughly onto the ground.
"Ahh! What the hell?!" Fumbling around, I quickly got up and saw that Alexander was the one who had pushed her down. Was he...protecting me? That didn't make any sense.
"You'd better apologize right now, or you're going to wish you hadn't done that!" Stacy's shrill voice hurt my ears. Alexander shrugged.
"I don't give a fuck. Come on, let's go to class, Ebony." My eyes widened, just a bit.
"How did you know my name?" I asked, dumbfounded. I couldn't remember telling him, or ever being put in the situation where I might have let that slip. It didn't make any sense.
"I'll explain when we get there. Now come on." A little startled by his serious tone, I nodded, not wanting to anger him further. If I pissed him off, something bad would probably happen to me or my family. Not that I cared too much about my father, the abusive asshole that he was, but he was the only source of income I had. Yeah, that sounded bad. I'd have to get a job sometime soon anyway. Alexander grabbed my hand and pulled me away. I went along with it, casting once less glance at Stacy, still on the ground, surrounded by her cronies. Hopefully there wouldn't be a backlash from them later. I supposed I'd have to see and find out.
At last, we reached room 442- first hour, English Honors. If I remembered correctly, we were currently in the middle of doing Hamlet. Most of the kids in the class seemed to be bored to death by the old text, but I for one found it interesting. Sure, it was a little hard to comprehend at first, but once you got used to it, it was pretty neat.
"Ah, Mr. O'Hara. You're eight minutes late. And I see you have Miss Jasentine with you. You're lucky it's your first day, or else I would have had to mark you absent. Mr. O'Hara, you can take a seat next to Mr. Summers." That was only a couple of desks away from where I sat, in the back row, next to a window. I was just about to ask Alexander once more about how he had known my name, only to get shushed by the teacher and sent to my desk. I growled. Me finding out the details of this would have to wait.
I sat through most of the class without saying a word, taking notes when it was due, and not making a big show of glancing over at Alexander, though I did occasionally stare in his direction for a few seconds at a time. What was it, with him? Was he really from the O'Hara pack? Were we really destined to be mates? It didn't make any sense! Why would my mate come from a pack that was pretty much dedicated to destroying mine? Unless...
Unless this was some kind of covert mission. Maybe he was supposed to get close to me, go undercover, and in turn, get closer to my father. Then, when we'd least expect it- BAM! The beta of the Jasentine pack would be dead. The idea made sense in theory, but...that still didn't explain his scent. According to most of my pack's history and tradition, your mate would give off a heavenly smell- something luscious, delightful...something similar to a natural aphrodisiac pheromone. That's what it had felt like to me, smelling him...but what if it was a fake? There were ways to fake pheromones, ways to disguise, embellish, or even erase them altogether. Similar to the ways humans could put on perfume or deodorant to mask their own smell. Besides, meeting your mate at this age? I was seventeen. Most people didn't meet their mates until they were at least twenty, sometimes thirty. Then there was always luck taken into consideration, but still.
The sound of the bell ringing jolted me out of my thoughts, and I got up, frowning. Class was over, which meant that I now had to head through the halls to the next room, fulfilling my educational needs. I sighed, quickly walking past the rows of seats, trying to get out of the room before Alexander could catch me. It had taken me a lot of thought, but I had decided that the best thing to do in this situation, where there was so much at stake, would be to ignore him completely. Act like he didn't exist. That, in my mind, was the safest course of action. Hopefully, we wouldn't have any more classes together. Hopefully.
I hoped wrong.
(A/N: Sorry about how long it took to update. Yeah...I'm not good at this stuff...)