Chapter 3 *

Angelina’s POV

Wilson stared at me like I'd grown a second head.

The classroom had gone dead silent. Even the kids who'd been recording stopped, phones still raised but frozen.

"What did you just say to me?" Her voice came out tight.

I stayed where I was, standing next to my desk. Didn't break eye contact.

"I said I'm not going anywhere."

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again.

This wasn't the script she'd expected. The old Aria—the one whose memories were flooding through my head—would've been crying by now. Apologizing. Begging not to get in trouble.

But I wasn't her anymore.

Need information, I thought. Need to understand this body. This world. Can't do that sitting in some principal's office.

"You—" Wilson's hand tightened around her red pen. "You just assaulted another student!"

"No, I didn't."

"I saw you! You grabbed Logan and lifted him off the ground!"

I glanced at Logan. He was still rubbing his neck, but he didn't look hurt. Just shocked.

"He's fine," I said. "Not a scratch on him."

"That's not the point!" Her voice pitched higher. "You put your hands on another student in a threatening manner—"

"I was startled awake." I kept my tone flat. Factual. "Had a nightmare. Reacted on instinct. Logan got too close. That's all."

Around us, whispers started up again.

"She's actually talking back to Wilson."

"Dude, this is insane."

"Someone's getting expelled today."

Wilson's face was turning red. "Aria Sterling, I have had enough of your disruptions. You're physically attacking students and threatening teachers?" Wilson continued. "This behavior is completely unacceptable!"

"I didn't threaten you."

"You told me to 'think carefully'!"

"That's not a threat. That's advice."

Her jaw dropped. For a second, she just stared at me.

Then she spun toward the door. "I'm getting Mr. Davis. Don't you dare move."

She stormed out.

I sat back down.

Logan scooted his chair away from me. "Aria, what the hell? You just made everything worse!"

I didn't answer. Just pulled out the math textbook from my backpack and opened it.

Algebra I. Basic stuff.

The numbers looked familiar. My brain processed them automatically. Equations I could solve in my sleep.

This body is fifteen, I thought. High school freshman. Omega blood. Weak. Bullied.

I needed to figure out the rules here. The hierarchy. Who had power. Who didn't.

And I needed to do it without killing anyone.

The door slammed open.

Wilson came back, and she'd brought backup.

The man who walked in behind her was in his mid-forties, built like a brick wall. Buzz cut. Thick neck. Wore a whistle around his neck and a Roseville Lions polo shirt.

"Mr. Davis," Wilson said, slightly breathless. "This is the student I told you about."

Davis looked at me. Then at Logan, who was still pressed against the far side of his desk. Then back at me.

"So you're the one causing problems."

It wasn't a question.

I closed my textbook. "No problems here."

"That's not what I heard." He crossed his arms. "Ms. Wilson says you attacked another student. Refused to go to the principal's office. Threatened her."

"I didn't attack anyone. I didn't threaten anyone."

"Then why is Logan sitting six feet away from you?"

I shrugged. "Ask him."

All eyes turned to Logan.

He swallowed. "I mean... she grabbed me, yeah. But like... I kind of startled her? She was asleep and I shook her shoulder and she just... reacted?"

"There," I said. "Misunderstanding."

Wilson made a strangled noise. "She lifted him off the ground by his collar! That's assault!"

"He's not hurt."

"That doesn't matter!"

Davis held up a hand. "Alright, enough. Aria, you're coming with me to the office. Now."

"No."

The word came out flat.

Davis's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to sit here and finish the class period."

"That's not how this works."

"Then explain how it works." I met his stare. "Because from where I'm sitting, Ms. Wilson's classroom is already a disaster. Half these kids are on their phones. That guy in the back is literally asleep. Nobody's paying attention. But the second I have one incident, suddenly it's a crisis?"

Someone in the third row snorted. Tried to cover it with a cough.

Wilson's face went white. Then red.

Davis's expression darkened. "That's enough. You're coming with me. Right now."

"No."

"This isn't a request."

"I know." I leaned back in my chair. "But I'm still not going. If the principal wants to talk to me, he can come here."

For a second, nobody moved.

Then Davis took a step forward. "Get up."

"No."

Another step. "I'm not asking again."

"Good. Because my answer won't change."

His hand shot out, reaching for my arm.

I moved without thinking.

One second I was sitting. The next I was on my feet, chair scraping back, his hand grabbing empty air.

"Don't touch me."

My voice came out cold. Dead cold.

The kind of tone I'd used on pack members who'd forgotten their place.

Davis froze. Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe. Or recognition. Like some part of him understood he'd just made a mistake.

Then his jaw set. "I'm done playing games with you."

He reached for me again.

I sidestepped.

His fingers closed on my sleeve. Pulled.

And I reacted.

My hand came up, caught his wrist, twisted. Used his own momentum against him. Spun him around and yanked his arm up behind his back in one smooth motion.

Less than a second.

The classroom erupted.

"Holy shit!"

"Did you see that?!"

"Someone's recording this, right?!"

Davis grunted, tried to pull free. Couldn't.

I had him locked. Perfect angle, perfect pressure.

"Let go!" Wilson's voice cracked. "Let go of him right now!"

I didn't.

Because my brain was somewhere else. I could see it so clearly. Six different ways to end this.

Slam his head into the desk. Skull fractures. Dead in seconds.

Jerk his arm up another three inches. Snap the shoulder joint, then the neck. Two moves. Clean.

Grab the pencil on Logan's desk. Drive it through the carotid artery. He'd bleed out before anyone could stop it.

My grip tightened.

Davis made a choking sound. "You're—you're hurting me—"

Kill him. Kill everyone who saw. Get out. Disappear.

The training was automatic. Muscle memory.

I started to apply more pressure.

"Aria!" Logan's voice cut through the red haze. "Aria, stop! You're hurting him!"

My hand was shaking.

"Please," Logan said. "Let him go. You're scaring everyone."

I looked up.

Every student in the room was pressed against the far wall. Phones out, recording, but their faces—terrified. Absolutely terrified.

Wilson had collapsed into her chair. White as a sheet.

Davis was breathing hard, still trying to pull free. "Where did you—how do you—"

These weren't enemies.

They were high school kids. Teachers.

This wasn't a war zone.

This was a classroom.

What the fuck am I doing?

I let go.

Davis stumbled forward, caught himself on a desk. His hand went to his wrist, cradling it. When he turned to look at me, his expression was equal parts pain and shock.

"What the hell was that? Where did you learn that?"

I stared at my hands.

Small. Delicate. No calluses. No scars.

These hands had nearly killed a man.

Control yourself, I thought. This isn't your world anymore. These aren't your rules. You can't just—

"Answer me!" Davis's voice shook. "Where did you learn to fight like that?!"

I took a breath. Let it out slow.

"YouTube," I said.

The lie came easy. Natural.

Davis's face went red. "Don't bullshit me—"

"Mr. Davis?"

The voice came from the doorway.

Everyone turned.

A guy stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a Roseville Lions letterman jacket. Dark hair, sharp features, amber eyes that swept across the chaos—Wilson in her chair, Davis clutching his wrist, me standing in the middle of it all.

The classroom went silent.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked.

And even though I'd never met him in this life, I knew exactly who he was.

Kai Matthews.

The golden boy.

The one Aria had written that letter to.

The one who'd humiliated her in front of the entire school.

His eyes locked on mine.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then someone whispered: "Oh shit. Kai's here."