Emily At An All Boys Werewolf Academy!

lukewarm

Emily's pov

He descended the stairs from the same dorm building I was staying in, accompanied by another male. The second guy was just as handsome, though lacking that dark aura that made my danger senses flare up. For a split second, I had the undeniable urge to turn around and run back inside, but Damien’s voice pulled me back to the moment.

“…Tell the truth, Emily, you’re doing all this just to gain my attention, right?” Damien continued, completely oblivious to the storm brewing behind him.

I couldn’t focus on his words anymore. My instincts screamed at me to get away from the dangerous stranger, but before I could even react, the i***t in front of me grabbed my hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, startled, immediately trying to pull away from his grasp. If he dared to pull that stunt again, arranged marriage or not, I’d break his nose.

“Emily, you clearly just want my attention,” he insisted, his voice dripping with smug certainty.

I clapped my hands, the sound sharp in the tense air. “Great, now that I’ve got it, can I leave now? I think I’ve bathed in it enough.”

But Damien wasn’t done. He scoffed, his voice growing colder. “So, I was right. Emily, you shouldn't go out of your way to get my attention, even with your brother’s death and your family on the brink of losing everything. I’ll still marry you. You’ll make a good wife.”

I froze at his words, a mixture of disbelief and anger freezing me in place. Of all the things I had expected from him, this wasn’t it. But he didn’t stop. “I just don’t get why you’d go to such lengths. Is your family’s collapse making you that desperate? Why just wake up and exercise?”

“She's clearly trying to seduce us, Your Highness,” a voice from above broke in.

“Yeah, keep your women in order, Your Highness,” another added.

I could’ve let it slide. Insults, taunts—I was used to that by now. But this crossed a line. I hadn’t even had the chance to properly mourn my brother, and Damien thought all I cared about was the flashy titles my family had? Titles they chased after while pretending to be perfect?

“Oh? I don’t know, maybe I’m just trying to test how well the academy teaches its discipline,” I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

Damien looked at me, stunned, and I could feel the intense gaze of the dark-haired stranger behind me.

“What are you—?” Damien started, his tone rising in anger, but he was cut off.

“And what do you think of the discipline level of the academy?” a deep voice interjected. The playful lilt in it barely masked a subtle, dangerous edge—one only someone like me would notice.

I gulped, my anger at Damien keeping the nervousness at bay. This guy exuded dominance in a way I couldn’t ignore. When he spoke, the idiotic heads above us fell silent, as if sensing the power in his presence.

“It’s not that bad,” I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “I thought my little act to gain attention and sell myself as the damsel in distress would at least elicit more than a lukewarm reaction. Instead of just heads poking out, I was hoping for something… else, you something more pointy.”

“Emily, what are you saying?!” Damien snapped, horrified by my words. But I wasn’t listening to him. I turned, meeting the gaze of the dark-haired stranger, my heart racing slightly as I awaited his reaction.

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, his gaze calculating. Then, after a pause, he simply said, “I see.”

Without another word, he turned and left.