Aiden
"If it isn't the man of the hour," I flash a cheeky smile at my uncle, who comes storming into the office.
I should've known Principal Darwin would snitch. The moment I left combat, he was already on his phone, probably calling him. Perfect.
Like the kiss-arse Darwin is, he not only bows but scurries around like a maid serving his master. That calms my uncle's angry nerves a bit. He dismisses Darwin with a wave, and he leaves us alone.
I'm about to get the usual lecture. The one where I'm scolded and I talk back just to piss him off, then shut up and wait for him to wrap it up.
"What's it going to be next? Snogging a teacher?" Lucas Whitlock, my uncle, says aloud, eyebrows knitted—and I chuckle, amused by his imagination.
His white-blonde hair is slightly tousled from running his fingers through it. Dark blue eyes, bearing a glint of frustration, anger, and every other emotion I'm used to, stare back at me.
"I don't do older women, so it'll be a student. Besides, this shit hole was your idea," I scoff.
"Don't give me that bullshit. Bad news, Aid — you're stuck in this shithole. Without it, you don't get to be an Alpha. Get your shit together, kid," my uncle shakes his head.
I bite the inside of my mouth, hands curling into tight fists as my jaw grinds against itself. No one calls me Aid—or at least, no one used to, apart from my dead parents. But Lucas doesn't know where to draw the line.
I ignore his obvious jab. He wants to strike a chord. I'll be his guest.
It's not my fault I'm probably smarter than most of my teachers and end up covering the course before the end of the semester. It's also not my fault I have to do everything perfectly because I'm destined to be Alpha of Crimson Crescent Pack—or, "one of the largest packs in Europe, and that means something," his words exactly.
"I know you hate me, but don't fucking call me Aid. You're not my dad. You keep complaining about me when you're just as incompetent," I snarl.
A pregnant, threatening silence follows. I know I've pushed a button—but he started first.
Maybe it's my eyes, but his gaze softens slightly. His lips part like he's about to say something, but they shut. His jaw clenches hard, and he walks up to me, closing the space between us so I can hear his heavy breaths.
"Watch your language, kid. I still call the shots till you get over your tantrums," his eyes are narrowed to slits, green veins snaking along his neck, his voice lethal and cold.
"That's the problem. You're not in control," I bite back. I mentally prepare for him to yank my collar and yell something he thinks is a threat—but he doesn't bat an eyelid. A low chuckle follows, and he sucks in his lower lip.
A memory I'd shoved deep into a dark part of my mind begins to creep back. I shut my eyes tight, willing all the power within me to push it away—but the cries get louder, deep crimson soaked into white sheets…
"You're right — I'm not in control. I can't reopen your parents' murder case because I'm a Regent Alpha, not a crowned one. My authority's borrowed. Stirring that pot without a proper Alpha on the throne would set the Council on edge—and spark a bloody war we're not ready for."
I don't give a penny about all that shite. I want to be Alpha more than anything else, for reasons that've stopped both of us from ripping each other's throats out.
I blink hard. Somehow, he's got me wrapped round his fingers like he always does, and this time I can't fight back—else I'll be fighting myself too.
"My hands are tied, and if you don't prove yourself soon, yours will be too."
There, he's done it. Dangling the magic word over my head— the same reason he made me attend that birthday party that looked like Tinkerbell shat there. Pink glitters, pink everything...
The same party I was only too glad to reject my mate at.
The chick had eyes for another—an Alpha, I later learnt.
The Moon Goddess bless her—she did me one of the biggest favours ever. She gave me a legitimate excuse to reject her.
From the mess she made, it's clear she's a foolish lover girl.
When I need my Luna, I'll make sure I pick someone emotionally unavailable. I don't need another sequel of my parents' Romeo and Juliet story. That's what landed me an orphan.
However, that sex tape did make me see her in a different light…
Daring to cause such scandal under strict supervision, she really has what I call foolish courage.
My wolf, Levi, is still pissed by what I did that day, but he'll get over it.
The last thing I need is a lovesick mate hanging about.
Firm hands clamp my shoulders, pulling me back from my drifting thoughts—
"Aiden," my uncle sighs tiredly, "be good. It's not easy, but you'll get the hang of it." With that, he walks away.
I don't bother giving him one more look.
Astrid. She is the most urgent problem that I need to solve now.
A groan erupts through me and I kick the swivel chair in front of me.
I don't know what she was thinking during combat, but her moves were pathetic. I've seen younger wolves do better.
Levi's interest—and my dark sense of humour—was the only reason I watched that weak excuse of a fight.
She's a looker, that one.
It's a pity, though—she's not my type. Too mousy.
Even though Levi has a weird fixation on her—not that I mind entirely, considering his mate clearly didn't want him. A little distraction to stop him whining in my head, you could call it.
But that's not what sucks.
It's the fact that I'm her new trainer—till she stops having jelly legs.
"Astrid," I test the name. Nah.
"Mouse," sounds better.