Chapter 0003

I glance at them again and my gaze meets Larry's. He's staring at me over Evelyn's shoulder, and I can just feel the heat from his intense stare.

Evelyn is hugging him, still running a hand around his crotch. But he doesn't seem affected. He's just staring at me like he wants nothing more but to come over and tear me into shreds.

I shudder at the raw hatred lying beneath his blue eyes. I look away and start fiddling with the knob of my locker. I'm fucking anxious, and it's gotten my legs weak. I can't walk away, no matter how hard I want to.

Larry Johnson is the renowned Casanova of the quadruplets. He might have a girlfriend, but that doesn't stop the girls from fawning for his heart. You could blame it on his no-fuss, short brown wavy haircut, face so cute and angelic like a child's, smiles so enchanting, and mesmerizing voice. He is too good-looking for his good, and the icing on the cake is his legendary pick-up lines. He knows just what to say to get any girl, regardless of her class, age, and Pack.

Evelyn might have him, but she still feels insecure and that's why she clutches to him always. A second away from him and he's already swarmed with a million girls.

That's the way it's always been for Larry Johnson.

“Uh, I gotta run. I got physics,“ Larry says, pulling away from Evelyn. He kisses her cheek, “Later, babe,”

“Oh, okay. Let's meet at the restroom in two hours. Got a little something for you,“ Evelyn says in a slutty tone, squeezing his dick through his fly. He grunts, forcing his tongue into her mouth for a bruising kiss.

I almost gag and now I'm forced to walk away. More so, because I don't want her to come at me. I was already hurting from her verbal assaults. I didn't want to add physical assaults to it.

I get to my Maths class and take a seat at an empty desk in the middle row of the class. Mr. Hawkins walks in a minute later and the class begins.

Math has always been my favorite subject. So right now, I'm intrigued and I do not allow anything to distract me. Not until Mr. Hawkins stops talking and looks at a seat behind mine.

”Hey, Johnson! You should try to sit up,”

And that's when I get the familiar 'Johnson' scent. I go pale instantly. Dear goddess, what's he doing in this class? He's never been to my Math classes. He's never been to any classes, to be exact.

Lincoln Johnson loves being privately tutored and that's how it's always been. He's never attended classes like a normal student. Rumor has it that he is allergic to other Lycans, especially the lower-class Lycans, and that's why he doesn't try mixing up. What changed? Why is he in a class filled with a hundred students?

His deep grunt reverberates throughout the room. Sweats run down my forehead in a mad rush. Just how did I end up in a seat in front of him? I check for an empty desk but there's none. My heart drops at the disappointment.

“You should try to get done with your shit. My ass hurts from sitting for so long. My ears sting from your boring monologues. I'm fucking sitting your shit out, thought it was clear enough. So don't mind me and just get done with it,“

“A little respect would be in order, Johnson!“ Mr. Hawkins says in anger. The poor man doesn't even know which brother he's dealing with. If only he does.

“I'm all shades frustrated right now, Hawkins. So don't fuck with me, and just get done with your shit,” Lincoln growls, and his eyes take a dark red shade.

It's his Lycan trying to surface. Everyone gasps, including Mr. Hawkins. Fear grips him and he turns around and resumes teaching.

I'm almost melting away from fear. How did I end up here? With Lincoln Johnson behind me? Someone, please help!

Mr. Hawkins talks for almost half an hour but I'm completely tuned out. I can't concentrate anymore. Not when fear was eating me up in bits.

I have a general dread for the Alpha-Princes, but I have a special dread for Lincoln Johnson.

He's the second of the quadruplets and the eeriest of them. At the age of 8, Lincoln was already tearing bears and lions apart with his claws. He's got the deadliest and most ruthless teenage Lycan. He even spars with the Pack warriors and he leaves them breathless and unconscious. His strength is ethereal, like a future Alpha - King.

He's introverted, never seen taking a walk or addressing the people at festivals. It was always the other brothers who makes the speech. Lincoln just stands there, counting the minutes before he's back into his space.

He always dresses in black, always on headphones, or skims through books. Anything to keep him distracted from reality. I've only seen him smile on a few occasions, and that was with his brothers. With any other Lycan, Lincoln always has a scowl.

His biggest flaw should be his anger issues. He always loses his cool over the smallest things. So yeah, gotta be careful with your words when dealing with Lincoln. He might just rip you apart.

“Emily!“ My head snaps up and I find Mr. Hawkins' gaze on me, “Something wrong?“

“What?“ I blurt out. The awkward stares I get make me aware that he has been talking to me and I was totally zoomed out.

“I asked you to come solve the equation. You don't know it, or you feeling too shy?“

“No, I'll solve it,“ I stand and go to the board. My fingers are trembling as I grab the marker. I scribble down the answers and step away from the board.

Mr. Hawkins grins at me, “Well done, Emily. Good to know you still a maths wiz. Go have your seat,“

I take a nervous walk back to my seat. Different glares are fixed on me and I recoil from them.

I catch a glimpse of Lincoln and I suddenly ceased breathing for a few seconds. He's reclining on his back, with his legs crossed on the desk. His arms are under his head and his eyes are shut. Curls of his hair fall to his face, accentuating his handsome looks.

My legs move and I plump on my seat. But it gives an abrupt creak and falls apart. My butt hits the ground hard and I give a painful squeal.

The whole class breaks into a deafening outburst of laughter. No one feels the least sympathy for me.

“You okay, Emily?“ Mr. Hawkins asks, coming over to me. “If the seat was broken, then you shouldn't have sat on it,“

“I'm so sorry, Sir,“ I mumble. But I know the seat wasn't broken. I checked. That's why I'm a bit confused that it fell apart.

I get to my feet and pick up the legs of the chair. They were broken. Chopped right into two and just placed there for me to have a major fall. It was so perfect like a saw had gone through them.

Who would have done this? I looked around but stop when my gaze fell on Lincoln.

He's still in the same resting position and his face betrays no emotion. But I knew better.

I try not to cry as I pick up the parts of the chair and head out of the class to go dispose of it in the storage room.

I hear a very low chuckle and I might be wrong, but it sounded just like Lincoln's. I might be wrong. Or not. Still, I don't look back and just head out of the class.