CHAPTER TWO

LANDON :

I have always had a thing for kids. They warm my heart. Their innocence and purity made me want to linger around them consistently. It made most of my charity work go to everything that had to do with them. Months back, when Peter, my assistant suggested I do an image damage control by spending a whole day at one of the local schools to which I frequently donated, I quickly agreed. The thing was, the press made a terrible headline about my establishment abusing and unjustly firing my workers because I dismissed a large number of incompetent employees. They made me look like the bad guy. To create a diversion, Peter put this charity piece together, which was also great for my kind.

I took a moment to observe the locality of his choice, and it wasn't a bad one. The school needed work. But, also, required accountability as to where all the fund has been going. With the chunk of cash I gave, there wasn't a reason for this school to have a bad structure and ugly-looking roofs. I wonder what the classroom situation for these kids was. The presence I met had already ruined my mood.

On the verge of calming my thumping heart and stepping out of the car, I overheard a group of kids from a distance say, “that dummy girl is here again. Look at her shoes and hair. Such a rag,” they laughed.

Abruptly, I turned to see a beautiful baby girl with her head bowed down. She was quivering, and her heartbeat was going crazy. She was counting numbers in her mind. For some reason, seeing her sad immediately made me sad. I should mind my business. It was a kids' situation. Either she stands up for herself or, she gets stomped all over. Yet, the sinister comments of those kids kept bothering me.

“Sir, we are ready to go in. The…”

Lifting my finger, I silenced Peter. Something else had my attention outside the kid who was bullied. A scent that was familiar to mine. It was impossible. It shouldn't be happening. Still, the scent was a frightened and weak version of mine.

 Immediately, my senses became vigilant. I was trying to narrow down the source but, it was impossible. There were people everywhere. I had to find it. Following the faint trail, I was distracted from my search when another set of kids caused that beautiful girl from earlier to trip and fall hard.

“That’s it!” With added strength, I was in front of them within seconds, helping her to get up. Angrily, I twisted the earlobe of the kids. “Your actions show weakness. Only weak people bully others.” The kids shrieked out of pain. Turning to the girl, “are you okay, darling?”

Casting her gaze down, “yes, sir. Thank you.” Not just beautiful but humble. 

I could smell blood. Observing her, I saw the little cut on her elbow. I glared at the boys responsible for her injury before finding myself scooping her into my arms, taking her backpack in my other hand.  By the time I realized what I had done and wanted to drop her, the little girl leaned on my shoulder like I was in her comfort zone. It warmed my heart, causing me to carry her straight to her class.

All eyes were on us when we walked in. Quietly, “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Sasha.”

“How old are you?”

“Five.”

“Always remember, you're the biggest person in this class despite your age. Don't let anyone bully you again.”

She nodded.

Thoughts of, “but she doesn't have a father, who is he?” came from the kids. “Did her mum get stepdaddy?” another thought.

Those kids were so mean and my wolf for the first time growled at them. He was protective of Sasha, which was unusual. Everything that has happened so far was unusual. 

Again, the pronounced scent filled my nostrils. It was coming from…

“Who do you think you are to grab a child like that?” a woman muttered closely, snatching Sasha from my arm at the same time. “Are you okay?” she anxiously asked the little girl.

The little girl nodded.

“Have you learned nothing from all the safety classes I have been teaching you? You can't just lean into the arms of a stranger, allowing him to carry you,” she scolded. More like panicked.

Studying her demeanor, it felt like she was one of the teachers here just doing her job, which I couldn't blame her for. Numerous people are crazy these days. That was meant to be all I should care about. Yet, no. Her beauty was enchanting to the point I was unable to take my eyes off her.

Her beautiful brown hair flowed in cascading waves, catching the light with each movement. Her eyes, a captivating shade of hazel, held an air of mystery as they sparkled with curiosity and life. Her nose was delicately sculpted, adding to her elegance, and her lips, soft and inviting, curled into a natural, warm smile.

Moving down, her graceful neck led to her shoulders, which bore a hint of confidence as they rested beneath the straps of her black silk top. The top gracefully draped over her torso, hinting at her slender figure without revealing too much. As my gaze travelled further, I noticed the purple office pants that clung to her hips, showcasing her feminine curves and adding a touch of sophistication to her attire.

Her legs, toned and shapely, extended gracefully from beneath the pants. With each step, her movements radiated a subtle grace that captivated my attention. Finally, my eyes reached her feet, adorned in simple yet stylish shoes that complemented her outfit, bringing the whole look together.

Her beauty wasn’t solely in her physical features, but in the way she carried herself with a confident yet approachable demeanor. It was as if her entire presence illuminated the room, making it hard to look away.

She put down the child, allowing her to join the rest of the class. Her gaze was shortly plastered on me once more, her stares holding a hint of gratitude. Still, it didn't stop my boiling anger at the carefreeness of the teachers here toward their students. A child could be suffering in pain, and they wouldn't even notice.

“Thank you…”

“I don't care about your gratitude,” I cut her off. “You're not fit to be a teacher. So careless with the students,” I surprisingly said. Naturally, I would have ignored her and this whole scenario. 

She meant to say something when both Peter and a chubby lady in her early fifties yelled out, “Mr. Kurt. It's so nice to finally meet you,” the lady continued, interrupting us.

Irritated, I was forced to drag my gaze from her to the two overly smiling people who had just approached me.  “Who are you?” I sternly asked, my tone deeper than intended. 

“This is the principal, Mrs. Jessica Jones,” Peter introduced.

I extended my hand for a polite and quick handshake before withdrawing it. “This school has a lot of explaining to do. The environment is disturbing for a learning facility, considering how much has been pumped into it. Also, I don't appreciate the radicality of some of your students.” My gaze kept flickering from the principal to the teacher, and I didn't know why. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her retracing, about to sneak out. “Where are you going?” My sharp tone everyone jump a little bit. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “because I need not be here.”

“Where else would a teacher be if not with her students?” I turned to the principal, disappointed. “Seems like there's also an issue of incompetence among staff.”

“Excuse…” the teacher tried to speak

“You're excused,” I barked.

“Ouch,” I grunted at almost the same time the little girl did. My head was on fire, burning up. It came to my notice that the girl also had the same discomfort. Without hesitation, I went to her, bending to her level. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“My head hurts,” she let out.

Impossible. The scent was more pungent. I couldn't be mistaken. I could feel, scent and hear my cub, and she was sitting right in front of me. How do I have a cub without knowing? Who was the mother? How was she conceived, since I was confident that no she-wolf had ever been pregnant for me? What was going on?