Her Human His Lycan

New Girl

Clay POV

Booming music reverberated through the air, pounding against my eardrums as I sank into the worn-out couch. The scent of alcohol wafted from the cup in my hand, its contents a mystery that I didn't care to decipher. I simply wanted to drown out the memories of the day.

Surrounded by the cacophony, I found myself in a college setting, registered as a student against my will. The head of my group of hunters insisted that recruiting from college would be beneficial, but I had no interest in anything this place had to offer. It was a community school on the outskirts of a city, far away from the fight that consumed my thoughts.

The beasts I hunted - werewolves, lycans, and vampires - were dismissed by many as fictional creatures. But they were real, and they had taken everything from me. My family, brutally slain before my eyes. My father, mother, and my little sister, only five years old at the time. I survived only because a fellow hunter saved me, taking me in as his own.

Every day since then, I had trained relentlessly, preparing myself for the day I could exact my revenge. Just as we were making progress in finding a way into the werewolf realm, a hidden world where they resided, I was abruptly sent to this wretched place. My youth worked in my favor, allowing me to blend in as a mere student.

A girl next to me laid her head on my shoulder, breaking me from my thoughts. "I'm bored, take me to your place," she complained. I glanced at her, her presence an unwelcome distraction. "So I can have my way with you?" I retorted, the taste of her sloppy kiss still lingering on my lips. The girls here were nothing more than temporary pleasures, offering quick satisfaction. But after a few weeks, their appeal wore thin.

"If you desire me so much, I'll just take you here," I suggested, slipping my hand under her shirt, my lips grazing her neck.

Her voice trembled as she uttered my name, "Clay."

Undeterred, I continued, "Fine, if you want me to bring you to my place, then you'll do as I say." This was usually enough to make them comply, but this girl was persistent.

"Okay," she slurred, allowing me to guide her out of the room. Once outside, she clung onto me. "So cold," she complained.

I couldn't help but smirk. "Well, you did dress yourself in practically nothing," I replied, quickening my pace. She struggled to keep up, "You're mean," she muttered.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I asked, "So why are you following me?"

"You're hot."she responded. I chuckled, amused by her bluntness.

"Real high standards there, sweetheart," I said to her, the words dripping with sarcasm, making her slightly angry. As I walked towards my apartment, which was just two buildings away from the party, my senses were heightened. The night air carried the faint sounds of laughter and music, mingling with the distant sounds of traffic. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke hung in the air.

Approaching my building, I noticed someone new on her patio. The moonlight cast a soft glow on her hair, making it shine like liquid silver. It danced gracefully in the gentle breeze, a striking contrast to the bustling party scene. Although I didn't know her, a quick glance told me she was different, standing alone and gazing at the moon.

"Clay, slow down!" the girl following me called out, her voice filled with frustration. Ignoring her, I abruptly changed my mind and commanded her to go home. She couldn't believe it and snapped at me, her voice laced with anger.

Unfazed by her outburst, I chuckled and told her she should be grateful that I was sending her home. My pace quickened, my footsteps echoing against the pavement. She seethed with anger, warning me that I would regret my actions. I couldn't resist but turn and face her, captivated by the intensity of her emotions.

"Do you really think you're something? That we are something?" I challenged her, my voice tinged with scorn. The words spilled out, harsh and cutting. The air grew heavy with tension as I confronted her. She was nothing more than a one-night stand, if even that. I made it clear that she was disposable, just like the others who sought to fully experience college life.

Her attractiveness was undeniable, but to anyone with a brain, she was nothing more than a dirty slut. I condemned her actions, warning her of the consequences that awaited her. The weight of disappointment from her parents, who I assumed were supporting her financially, would surely crush her if they knew the truth.

My words only fueled her anger as she stormed off, her presence soon forgotten in the chaos of the next party. People like her, lost in their reckless pursuits, disgusted me almost as much as those vile creatures. But then, something caught my eye. Turning back, I caught one last glimpse of the new girl on her balcony.

It was strange, but witnessing someone who chose not to indulge in the partying lifestyle shifted my perspective. Maybe, just maybe, there were still individuals with decency left in this sea of debauchery. With that thought in mind, I continued on my path, entering my building and climbing up to my unit on the second floor.

Inside, the air was stale, tainted by the faint scent of whisky lingering in the room. I grabbed the half-full bottle and settled into my bed. The television hummed softly in the background, providing a comforting white noise. Despite my indifference towards the upcoming class, I knew I had to make an effort to stay enrolled.

As I closed my eyes, the sights, sounds, smells, and emotions of the night swirled in my mind. Sleep beckoned, offering a temporary escape from the world that seemed both chaotic and mundane at the same time.

_______________

My alarm blared, jolting me from my bed, the loud beeping assaulting my ears. The stench of whiskey lingered in the air, the empty bottle lying on its side next to me. As I groggily rose from the bed, my head throbbed, a painful reminder of last night's indulgence.

Dragging myself to the small bathroom in my cramped unit, I turned on the shower, the sound of rushing water drowning out the noise in my head. I quickly undressed, feeling the cool air on my bare skin as I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over me. The sensation of the water against my body helped to gradually sober me up.

Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste, catching a glimpse of my disheveled self in the foggy mirror. If only that girl from last night could see me now, I thought, her opinion surely would have changed. I looked at the multitude of scars that adorned my body, a testament to my training and fights. Among them, a prominent one on my chest, raised and jagged, a reminder of a childhood encounter with a monstrous beast. The sight of it often elicited awe and disbelief from those who saw it.

Ignoring suggestions of plastic surgery to improve their appearance, I chose to keep my scars as they were. They served as a constant reminder of my past.

Exiting the bathroom, I hastily dressed and dashed out of my apartment, the urgency in my steps reflecting my tardiness. As I pulled out my phone, it vibrated in my hand, Skade The leader of my group's message illuminating the screen. "Some activity reported near your school. Investigate later tonight," it read, accompanied by a pinpoint on the map. I pocketed my phone and sprinted towards the college campus.

Entering the classroom, the professor halted mid-sentence and acknowledged my presence with a nod. Taking my seat, I noticed her, the girl from last night. Her eyes briefly met mine before she refocused her attention on the professor.

"What's with her hair? She looks like an old lady," whispered one of the guys seated behind me.

"I don't care, she's stunning," responded another, his voice hushed so she couldn't hear.

"I've never seen her before, she must be new," mentioned one of the girls, as the professor resumed the lecture.

Struggling to concentrate, I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from the new girl. My mind drifted, the professor's words becoming a distant murmur.

When the class was finally over, she rose from her seat and approached the professor as everyone else began to file out of the classroom.

"Thank you for today's class," she said to the professor with a smile, her eyes gleaming with newfound knowledge. "I found your lecture to be incredibly enlightening."

Just as I stepped into the hallway, I caught sight of a familiar face. The girl I had blown off last night entered with her friends, her excitement evident in the way she walked and the animated gestures she made.

"Clay!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. I grumbled under my breath, my annoyance palpable.

"Was I not clear last night?" I muttered, hoping to deter her. But she paid no mind, latching onto my arm as if we were a couple.

"We all have moody days," she chirped, her words floating in the air. Her friends emerged from the classroom, their laughter and friendly banter filling the hallway. One of them caught sight of the new girl, Emma, and beckoned her over.

"Emma, that's your name, right?" she asked, her voice filled with warmth. Emma nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Yes, it is."

"We don't get many new faces around here," one of them remarked. "When's your next class?"

Emma replied, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "1 o'clock," she said.

"Perfect! Come get coffee with us. We can show you around," one of the girls offered, extending a friendly invitation. I, on the other hand, had no interest in their company. But I needed to observe them, to identify potential recruits among their acquaintances.

"Sure, thanks," Emma responded graciously.

"Clay, you're coming as well, right?"The girl holding my arm asked, her voice tinged with expectation.

I sighed in resignation. "Fine," I muttered. "It's not like I have anything better to do." I pushed her off, uninterested in her possessive display.

"Don't mind my boyfriend," she said to Emma, her voice filled with forced laughter. I chuckled inwardly, not bothering to correct her assumption. I needed to maintain my cover, after all.

"Emma, my name's Liz, and that's Candice and Kelsey," the girl who clung to me introduced her friends. Finally, their names registered in my mind. "Nice to meet you all," Emma said politely.

We walked into the college coffee shop after a short walk, its cozy atmosphere enveloping us as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of baristas at work filled the air.

"Wow," Emma said, looking around the coffee shop, her nose picking up the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Ya, it's decent, but there are much better shops in the city," Liz responded as we walked towards the counter. The sounds of the barista grinding coffee beans and the steam hissing as they poured hot water over them filled the air.

Liz, Candice, and Kelsey all ordered sugary and creamy drinks that somehow passed off as coffee. Surprisingly, Emma and I both opted for black coffee. "How can you drink it that way?" Liz questioned Emma, wrinkling her nose.

"I could ask you the same thing," Emma retorted, making me chuckle softly.

As we settled into our seats, Kelsey asked Emma about her major. "I don't have one, just taking a few classes for fun," Emma admitted.

"Just like Clay," Kelsey said, glancing at me. Liz tightened her grip on my arm, clearly not wanting me to be associated with Emma. "Chill, Liz. Can I not even mention his name?" Kelsey laughed, trying to ease the tension.

Candice chimed in with some advice for Emma, cautioning her against sucking up to the teachers. "Suck up?" Emma looked confused.

"Ya, you know, telling them their lecture was good," Candice explained.

"Oh, okay. But I wasn't sucking up, I genuinely enjoyed it," Emma clarified.

Kelsey, with a mischievous smile, suggested that Emma consider a more natural hair color. "Not sure what the style was in your town, but it's not Halloween here," she teased.

To my surprise, Emma laughed. "Thanks for showing me the coffee shop. I think I'll manage just fine without more advice from you girls. I'm not going to be told not to show respect to those teaching me, nor will I stand by and allow you to make fun of what is natural, like my hair. I mean, take a look at all yours. Keep dying it, and it will fall out. Enjoy your coffee and have a pleasant day," Emma said firmly, holding her cup in her hand as she walked out the door.

Finally, someone different from all the fake sluts. My phone buzzed in my pocket, distracting me from my thoughts. I pulled it out and read the message: "More activity. Come now."

"Got to go," I said to the girls.

"Party tonight. Pick me up at 10," Liz said, trying to convince me.

"Yeah, not happening. I was nice and got coffee with you, but I meant every word I said to you last night," I replied, standing my ground.

"Well, then stick with me, and what you said won't be true," Liz insisted, her friends attempting to calm her down.

"Pass," I said, brushing off her attempt. As I walked out of the shop, I couldn't help but question why I even went there. I had used recruiting as an excuse, but it was that girl, Emma. She was the reason I needed to stop myself. I couldn't afford distractions.