The Lycan Twins' Human Mate

Nightmare

Chapter nine.

Vida’s POV.

The moment I closed the door, the finality of its click pierced through the roaring din of confusion in my head. Tears spilled down my face, betraying the strength I desperately clung to. Kaden's actions, the abrupt expulsion from class, felt like an injustice I couldn't comprehend.

Kaden's outburst in class left me feeling helpless. I walked away, watching him teach from the window, trying to understand his behavior.

Going home to cry in the comfort of my own bed was the only thing that could soothe the ache that had taken root in my heart. But the distance between my hostel and the school was too much for me to handle in my current state. The mere thought of navigating those crowded streets, weighed down by this emotional burden, left me exhausted.

So, I trudged along, each step measured and heavy, fighting back the urge to collapse. I was trapped between the pain of staying and the impossibility of leaving.

A familiar figure caught my eye from the corner of the room, his gaze locked on me as if he could read my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat, a static charge crackling through me. For a suspended moment, time stood still, and then Kaden averted his gaze, leaving me trembling in its wake.

This was impossible. The teacher who had humiliated me, sharing the same space as me? Now have the guts to steal glances from me.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if his brother, Kieran, was here too? What kind of twisted game were they playing? I shook my head, the absurdity of it all washing over me like a bitter wave.

A flicker of relief surged through me as Kaden exited the room, his words lingering in the air like a toxic fog.

"The next time you misbehave, I will ground you for two hours," his voice echoed in my mind. How did he expect me to respond when his reasoning made no sense?

He may have been the epitome of beauty, with his chiseled features and smoldering gaze, but his words painted a different picture. A picture of a mind that was shallow, clouded by his own arrogance.

His voice dripped with disdain, "Is it that you have a habit of playing dumb when someone is speaking to you?" He asked, his words a slap in the face.

I swallowed hard, my tongue seemingly frozen in my mouth. "I'm sorry, sir," I mumbled, my eyes avoiding his penetrating gaze.

"Sorry for yourself," he retorted, his sharp wit eliciting raucous laughter from the class.

A hot flush spread across my cheeks as embarrassment flooded my being. I closed my eyes, silently pleading with the heavens for deliverance from this mortifying ordeal.

With each retreating step, a wild thought took hold, daring me to stand my ground. When he finally turned his back, I seized my chance, flipping him the finger. This tiny act of defiance felt like a victory against his tyranny, a tiny flame of rebellion roaring to life in my chest.

As I clenched my backpack, its straps digging into my skin, I knew I could never express these sentiments to his face. But for a fleeting moment, I savored the sweetness of my silent protest.

A deep sigh escaped my lips as I entered the classroom. The faded chairs, their fabric worn thin by the passage of time, bore silent witness to the rigid hierarchy that ruled these halls. I settled into my broken seat, accepting my fate with a resigned shrug.

As I contemplated the unmovable social stratification of my peers, it became clear that pleading for a spot among them was futile. There was no room for mercy in this world, where supernatural powers mattered more than character. So, I sank deeper into my seat, cocooned by the safety of my own isolation.

My stomach plummeted as the next teacher strode into the room. My heart sank, realizing who it was: Kieran. How could this day get any worse? As our eyes met, I swallowed hard, fear quickening my pulse.

He surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on me, like a predator assessing its prey. Finally, he cleared his throat, shifting his eyes away.

"Miss Vida," he addressed me, his tone cold as ice. "Find somewhere else to sit." His words were an order, dismissing me from his presence.

Steely defiance held me captive in my seat, unwilling to succumb to his demands. I remained motionless, even as his words reverberated around the classroom. "Miss Vida, do you have ear problems?" he asked, the heat of his frustration palpable as he approached.

I held his gaze, my silence a silent rebellion against his authority. His footsteps, a rhythmic staccato, drew closer, yet I refused to flinch.

"Miss Vida, I am talking to you," he pressed, his voice a low growl. "You will stand when I am addressing you."

My legs trembled as I rose, the words "I'm sorry" tumbling from my lips like pebbles in a river. His snort, a sound of contempt, sent a chill down my spine.

Clutching my backpack, I shuffled out, every disdainful glance from my peers like a stone weighting my shoulders. "Sir," I pleaded, my voice a quivering whisper. "I'm fine in my seat."

His response was swift, a thunderclap of rage.

"Miss Vida, either you find another seat or you get out of my class!" he thundered, his ire palpable.

I stood, rooted to the spot, a rabbit caught in headlights. How could I explain the unspoken rules of this classroom, the social strata that rendered me persona non grata? I scanned the rows of faces, searching for a shred of understanding, a sliver of empathy, but found only cold stares and indifference.

“Miss Vida, you are wasting my time, I’m here to teach not spend the whole time with you.” His words, an ominous ticking clock, pressed down on my shoulders. Just as I mustered the courage to speak, to explain to him no one was going to adapt me, a familiar voice, like honeyed poison, floated across the classroom.

"Vida, come sit with me," Sienna purred.

I swallowed hard, the taste of bile rising in my throat. It was a devil's bargain. Sienna, the harpy who had made my life a living hell, was my only option. Her sweetness, a thin veneer over a malicious core. I turned slowly, her smirk a dagger in my heart.

“Thank you, I reject the offer!” I said, my voice high, not caring about the consequences.

"You would dare not reject the offer. Now, go and sit down," he barked.

I nodded, acquiescing to the cruel whims of fate. The classroom, a theater of humiliation, echoed with mocking whispers as I trudged towards Sienna's desk.

Sitting down, the screech of the chair, a nail on a chalkboard, pierced my buttocks and I let out a loud scream as I closed my eyes, wishing I could erase this day, this nightmare, from my memory.