The next day, I arrived at the school. As I entered through the gate, the gateman shot me a perplexed look.
"Pay attention, old man. Someone wants to enter." I declared moving forward.
I surveyed the school grounds, which were the largest and most beautiful I had ever seen. The buildings were of various designs and vibrant colors. According to the letter I received, I was supposed to meet someone here today, but I had no idea where to find her.
Hesitating, I called out to someone passing by. "Hello! Please, I need to meet Mrs. Spiff in the admissions office."
"Where are your manners, slave?" was her reply. "Thank your stars. I'm in a hurry today; otherwise, I would have hosted your funeral." She hurried away before I could respond. It seems everyone already knows about my identity, well what did I expect? Determined, I looked for the designated building, catching sight of it from a distance. It stood proudly, painted in royal blue and pure white, with "Admissions Building" inscribed in pure gold.
Following the directions in the letter, I made my way to the woman’s office. I knocked on the door and entered, finding myself inside her office moments later.
"And who are you, by the way?" she asked, not bothering to offer me a seat.
"I am White Daisy," I introduced myself.
"Oh, you are the slave I was expecting," she said coldly.
"Yes," I replied, trying to maintain my composure. I knew the label was something all of us in the pack had to bear, and it was about time I learned to deal with it.
"Here, take this." She handed me another backpack, different from the one I received yesterday.
"Unlike yesterday's bag, which contained gadgets, a badge, and uniform, this one has a student manual, a hard copy of your timetable, and you can also find it in the tablet given to you. But I’m sure you won't be able to operate that gadget since you’ve never used one before, slave." Her words stung, and I could feel my hurt swelling inside me as I realized that the gadgets I had seen the day before were beyond my understanding.
"This bag also includes notebooks since I doubt you can use a laptop. But textbooks aren't allowed, so the sooner you learn to operate the gadgets, the closer you'll get to accessing your soft copy materials. If you need any help from me, you can always come by."
"Okay, thank you," I replied as I received the backpack. The moment I left her office, I set off in search of my lecture room. Navigating the school was a challenge; despite being large and impressive, the atmosphere felt alien. Nobody acknowledged my presence, and I found myself wishing I were back in the wasteland rather than stuck in the city. But I had to adapt.
Upon entering the lecture room, I was surprised by how cool it was; air conditioning hummed rhythmically through the space. It reminded me of Mrs. Spiff's office. I locked the door behind me and took my seat just as the day’s lecturer walked in.
"Hello, class. I am Mrs. Andrew, and I will be teaching you English GNS 101…”
Before she could continue, a rude, spoiled brat interrupted. "We already know that! Don't delay us with your introduction; just get to the point!"
"If that’s the case, you should all introduce yourselves to me," she replied.
This made the rude, spoiled brat smile.
One by one, everyone introduced themselves until it was the turn of the four students who immediately caught my attention.
"I am John Sarah from the Snowpack… I am the daughter of the Senate President and an oil mogul," she declared, showing off her background.
"I am Andrew Gloria from the Snowpack," chimed another. Her connection to Mr. Andrew, close to the President, hinted at the importance of their family ties.
I carefully noted the key werewolves from influential families, deciding that it was best to keep my distance from them.
As the lecture was about to begin, Sarah called out to me, cutting through the growing anticipation. "Hey, slave!" No one needed to tell me to respond; I understood the dire consequences of ignoring her.
"Get out of here right now. I don’t want to attend a lecture with a rag in our midst." Her words were like nails on a chalkboard, sending my anger boiling.
"You’d better not make her repeat herself," a guy named James Felix added rudely. Brief background: His father is the chairman of James Group, known for producing luxury sports cars. Clearly, he was from a wealthy family.
I forced myself to my feet, grabbing my book, because I would need it.
"There’s no need to take your book. Just come over here," Sarah commanded.
"Don’t grumble, and don’t let me beat you. You don’t stand a chance against me, even in a fight," she added, noticing my hesitation. I had no way of knowing if I was stronger than her; the band on all the Whitewater made us weaker than the average werewolf.
Hesitantly, I approached her.
"Bend down and remove my shoes," she said with a pompous air. I complied, pulling her shoes off and feeling a swirl of humiliation. Out of nowhere, she tossed money at me. "Here, money for your services, lowlife. Make sure to clean and polish it well." It was the height of disrespect. My blood boiled, and I felt an overwhelming urge to slap her across the face, but I couldn’t gather the courage.
I held her shoes and stood up. Just as I was about to turn away, she grabbed my hair, yanking me back and causing me to wince in pain.
"You dare not leave without taking the money," she ordered, her voice dripping with contempt.
The entire class watched with cackles of laughter, making me the subject of ridicule.
"I would like to go down on her," I heard the most disgusting comment uttered by someone in the back.
"You’re a fool. You want to go down on a slave? An object of ridicule?" another voice sneered.
"Well, there’s nothing wrong with what he says. Slaves were used for pleasure in the past, even by kings," someone else chimed in.
I bent down to pick up the money, and just as I was about to stand up and leave, Sarah yanked my hair again, and I let out a muffled whine.
Daisy POVI bent down to pick up the money, and just as I was about to stand up and leave, Sarah yanked my hair again, and I let out a muffled whine."I heard you are the direct descendant of the Alpha who ratted and snitched on all packs," she said. (Yes, she was right about that, if you were wondering about that, but how she knew was still a mystery to me.) "Don't be surprised how I know… The president said so himself after your engagement with him. How he was able to know, I don't know myself," she added."I am even wondering why she was so quiet today when she could talked back to the president yesterday," someone said."What did you expect? She almost lost her life to it yesterday…" Speaking of that…"Enough of this!" Mrs. Andrew yelled. "I will be forced to report you all to the higher-ups if you continue this. Remember, this is your future we are nurturing," she added finally. Sarah chuckled. "Okay, you win… continue the lecture and you, get out of here." I started walking o
Warzone (Night)Mr. President POV"Whitewater… the traitor brother!" I yelled, snarling."Romeo and Juliet… Hahaha! I can't believe the fore-children of Parker from the Snowpack and Robert from the Firepack will actually be the ones I challenge in a fight," he laughed again as he moved from one point to another. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew our forefathers’ names. I am just 75 years old and have been ruling this land for 50 years. "What's your purpose for showing up after all these years, Roger?" I asked."You must have read history about me to know my name… oh, I even heard that Spencer is still alive," he said, looking at me."I don't like repeating myself. What do you want?" I pressed."Show some manners, kid. Don't your elders teach you not to interrupt when someone older is speaking?" he asked and I scoffed."Simple…" He suddenly said, "What I want is simple… I simply want you to unbrand the Whitewater pack as slaves." His words ignited my anger."That can never happen—not
Daisy's POVTwo Days LaterAs I approached the school gates today, I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. My heart raced like a runaway train, each beat echoing my trepidation. Trust me, I would have preferred to stay at home. An idea suddenly flickered in my mind, staying home might be the best way to avoid being killed, but then again, I wouldn’t graduate. "So it’s a choice between graduating dead or not graduating alive," I mused to myself. There were no two ways about it.Today, I dressed like a boy, wearing baggy clothes and a cap pulled low over my eyes, anything to avoid attention. As I walked to the front of the lecture hall, I hesitated. The thought of stepping inside made me queasy. Just then, a lecturer approached where I stood."Come in," he beckoned, noticing my hesitation. I stood frozen, but his smile was reassuring. "As long as I'm the one lecturing, you have nothing to worry about," he added, and I took a deep breath before following him inside.Once in the lecture r
I halted in my tracks, slowly turning to face him. "Follow me," he ordered, his gaze fixed on me, leaving me no choice but to comply. We soon reached a vibrant wall of flowers, at which point he produced a remote and pressed a button. To my astonishment, the flowers parted, and I could hardly believe my eyes.As I followed him inside, I found myself in a new environment with a black penthouse standing at the top of a building. I was taken aback by its beauty as we approached the building door. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he answered it."I'll be there in a minute," he concluded, swiftly turning to head out. "I’ll meet you at 9 PM tonight, location: Fountain Bridge," he declared before we went our separate ways. I walked out with him, my mind still processing what had just happened. With a sense of unease, I decided to skip my remaining lectures and head home, hoping to avoid any further troubles.Just then, a Camry XLE pulled up in front of me. Should I run? Should I wait? My mind r
"I will be taking my leave," I declared firmly."Come on, girl! Sleep over! Let me prepare more cookies and bring in some drinks," Mrs. Johnson suggested enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with hospitality."Mum, she has her reasons," Ruby interjected, sensing my disapproval."I have an important meeting with someone. Otherwise, I would love to stay over. My house is boring, to begin with, since I’m lonely," I admitted sincerely."I would love to delve into the details of your important meeting, but I know it might lead to a dead end since there is little we can do to protect you in this city," she said sadly, making me smile as I stood up."Don't wait for me, Mom and Dad. I’ll give her a lift home," Ruby announced decisively."Okay, kid," they replied, understanding the message she was conveying as we moved toward the exit.As we made our way, nerves began to gnaw at me. Today was the day I would meet Drake."If I may ask..." Ruby broke the silence, her voice trailing off."About t
"Can Liam protect me from Drake?" I asked, my voice filled with uncertainty."He can't," she replied flatly."I thought as much," I answered, a sense of resignation creeping in."Then why are you beating yourself up? If someone from one of the most powerful families can't protect me..." I trailed off."Well, there's a difference," she interjected."What do you mean by that?" I inquired, confused."First of all, the president ordered him to assign the punishment to you. If it was Liam who was with you on the bridge, he wouldn’t have demanded he kneel unless it was entirely warranted. But a fight might have broken out," she explained."Let's just get out of here," I declared, wanting to change the subject. "This place is dangerous.""Okay," she replied, and we climbed into the vehicle headed for my house."I’m really sorry for the humiliation you faced because of me on your birthday," I said, guilt washing over me."It’s okay. What are friends for?" she replied warmly."Thanks," I said,
He sent a double wave kick at me—a deceptive combination that momentarily toyed with my defenses before his foot lashed out in an incredibly fast follow-up, raising the available dust around us as I blocked the blow with my arm. A double wave kick is a unique technique where he launches at my shoulder, holds it midway, and then releases it to hit me, yet it remains incredibly fast despite the brief pause, showcasing his impressive speed."Not bad. I just came to check you out," he remarked, a wild grin spreading across his face."It's going to be a lot of fun when we spar in the future," he added, his eyes gleaming with excitement, almost maniacal."Your name?" I asked, impressed. His speed indicated that he could very well be an even greater threat than the immortals of Whitewater, not counting the one he claimed he couldn’t die."No one in this country knows my name—only one or two, perhaps. You can call me ‘No One,’" he replied, and in an instant, he dashed off, showcasing his spe
"Will you stop or not?" The new man shouted, aiming his gun at the girl beside him.“Mum! I want ice cream...” Six-year-old Drake’s voice piped up just as both him and his mother arrived, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around them. The other customers in the restaurant had wisely scattered, leaving the scene eerily quiet."Please don't kill my daughter... just kill me instead!" Mr. Johnson begged, desperation lacing his words."We want you to reflect on your sins while you're still alive," the masked man insisted.Just as he was about to pull the trigger, young Drake suddenly leapt onto a table and launched a back kick that sent the man crashing into a glass display. The shattering sound echoed through the restaurant as Drake, despite his small stature, spoke the words with an intensity that belied his age. "I hate it when the weak try to act strong by picking on the weak!""Drake!" his mother yelled, suddenly realizing where her son had darted off to."Little rascal!" the man spat,
All hope seemed lost as I frantically thought of an explanation, with all eyes on me. I didn't want to attribute it to my period, nor did I want to reveal the truth. "I'm not surprised you're a useless, clumsy slave," Felix sneered. "Spilling red grape wine on yourself is childish." I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I was safe. But then Mrs. Jordan, seated at an angle where she could see the stain, chimed in. "I don't think it's red grape wine," she declared, her words sending a jolt through me. "And if it is not that, it doesn't look like the right position for a period, even if it came unexpectedly, and it's a little stain," she added, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the stain. At this point, I thought it wise to swallow my fear and explain myself and the events that had transpired. Just as the silence was about to become unbearable and I was about to confess, Felix intervened, unwittingly saving me from trouble. "It's the wine," Felix suggested, "I saw the way she
As I looked at the assassin, I barely heard him whisper "Betty" in pain. Water fell from his eyes, and his hand slipped from his bleeding wound. He died. A new wave of fear washed over me as I realized I had just killed someone. I shivered, staring at the blood on my hands. Panicked and trying to conceal what I had just done, I dragged the body and hid it. "Daisy, I can't believe you just killed someone," I whispered to myself, my hands shaking uncontrollably as fear consumed me. Yes, he was an assassin, and my actions could be justified as self-defense, but the weight of taking a life was crushing me. I stumbled to a nearby sink and began washing my hands with soap, desperately trying to scrub away the blood and the guilt. My hands trembled violently as I rinsed them, the fear of what I had done still overwhelming me. As I walked towards the exit, I started to clear the blockade, my mind racing with thought
"I told you, didn't I?" he yelled, his blade flashing in the light as he aimed it at me. I dodged it by sheer luck, my fear-fueled instincts taking over. But in my attempt to evade him, he grabbed my hair, and I felt a searing pain as he dragged me out. He pulled me across the jet floor until my back slammed against a dead end. "This time, you won't be able to dodge my attack," he yelled, pinning me to the it with one hand. I begged for my life, my voice trembling with fear. "Please don't kill me." He released his grip on my shoulder, his eyes roaming over my face. "The more I look at you, the more I find you beautiful and attractive," he said, his voice low and menacing. He began to toy with my loose hair, his fingers intertwining with the strands as he held the knife in his other hand. "It's such a pity that such a pretty thing will have to die," he added, his voice with sadistic sentiment. "Don't worry, since
Upon arrival, I swiftly completed my task and began heading back, only to be surprised by a man with a deep scar on his chin approaching me at an unusually slow pace.“Mr., you must have missed your way around,” I thought aloud, noticing that this place was designated for females. Instead of responding, he continued walking closer, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on me and I felt alarmed.He was a stranger, and the menacing look on his face made me wonder what he was after. I took a cautious step backward as he advanced, my fear escalating. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice laced with apprehension, as I continued to move backward.Instead of responding, his expression turned even more sinister, his eyes seeming to bore into mine with malicious intent. This unsettling standoff continued until my back hit a dead end, leaving me with nowhere to escape.He brandished a knife, and I was consumed by fear, thinking, "Is this how I'll
He walked over to where I was bending, bending down beside me to examine the hibiscus flowers. "It seems you've taken an interest in the hibiscus flowers I like," he observed. I nodded, keeping my response brief. "Yes." Drake's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "Look at me," he commanded, and I met his stare, my heart pounding in my chest. "It seems you're having a difficult time," he said, his voice low and concerned. I wondered if he was truly aware of the turmoil I was feeling or if he was just pretending to be oblivious. "Yes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. Drake's response caught me off guard. "You should be," he said. I was taken aback, unsure if he was joking or serious. I scoffed inwardly, my mind racing with questions. Drake stood up, towering over me as he stared down, his eyes still locked onto mine. "A lion that chose to fight for a helpless lioness in the camp of enemies whose fate has been decided on since its existence, risks the chance of
This time, I leaned in, and planted a quick French kiss. Millie's face flushed with a deep blush. "Let's make out," she whispered, her voice husky. I raised an eyebrow, "Make out, as in a romantic kiss?" Millie's smile was sly, "Yes, and it could lead to other things." Her words were laced with suggestions, and I knew exactly what she meant. "I'm sure you need a woman to satisfy yourself," she continued, her voice low and seductive. "You don't have a girlfriend, to begin with." I thought back to why I had told Daisy to leave - I didn't want her exposed to this kind of conversation. Millie had always been flirtatious when we chatted, and she was usually the one to initiate our conversations. "Too bad for you that I have my mood under control. I'm not interested in a woman, my friend," I replied, winking at her as she smiled. "I can put you in the mood now," she said, sm
"Sarah... I'll consider her," I replied, my voice measured. His smile broadened, and even Beta John, who had been quietly observing our conversation, cracked a smile. I stood up, and left. I returned back to the penthouse, driving myself. The moment I walked in, I was surprised to see someone standing there, waiting for me. It seemed Daisy had let her in, as she was standing nearby, observing the scene in the open world. "Millie," I called out, a hint of surprise in my voice. The instant she saw me, she ran towards me and jumped into my arms, aiming for a tight hug. I obliged, wrapping my arms around her. "The hug is too tight," I teased, smiling. "You can't blame me for hugging my husband so tightly after all these years," Millie exclaimed, her eyes shining with happiness. My gaze turned to look for Daisy, hoping sh
My face flushed with embarrassment, and I felt a surge of heat rise to my cheeks. Why was he being so direct with me all of a sudden? "Sir Drake, I didn't think that at all," I lied, trying to maintain a neutral tone. Drake's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "What's the essence of using 'Sir' now, when you love disrespecting me by calling my name rudely? After all, you're calling me Drake in your heart.” he declared. My heart skipped a beat as I felt a flutter in my chest. "Drake, please, can you leave? I can't cook with you around," I declared, trying to sound firm. Drake's expression turned resolute. "Teach me how to prepare the noodles the Nigerian way. I'm not leaving," he replied, his tone brooking no argument. "But I can't....I am..." I stuttered, unsure of how to respond. "You are what?" he asked.
He removed his own jacket from its packaging and put it on, revealing the bold, stylish design that read "The Lecturer" in prominent letters."Winners, I've never done this before," He said, "but I want to create this memory with my students, so I can look back on it in the future and smile. Put on your jackets like me."They eagerly obliged, responding with a chorus of "Yes, sir!", "Okay, sir!", and "No problem, sir!" as they donned their jackets.The MC collected Drake's items from my hand as I removed the nylon to put my own on, which was promptly collected by the security personnel present.Just like the lecturer's jacket, mine had "The First" emblazoned on the left side of the front, with a larger, bolder inscription on the back. The second- and third-place winners' jackets followed a similar design."Sir Drake, please do me the honour of creating a memory with me by putting on your jacket and golden medal," Mr. Oparah