Hearing the loud ringing of the bell woke her up abruptly. The sound buzzed in her head, sparking a sharp headache. Without sparing a glance at what others were doing, she picked up her backpack and swung it over her shoulders.

“Another hell of a day,” she muttered, forcing a tight smile as she pushed herself to keep moving.

“Where to, Miss Freaky Ashlee?” Crista, flanked by her minions and her obnoxious boyfriend, blocked Ashlee’s path.

“Not to your whorehouse,” Ashlee replied, rolling her eyes, which only made Crista’s expression darken.

“What was that?” Crista grabbed Ashlee’s hoodie, pulling it down and revealing the ruffled mess of her hair and the small wounds scattered across her face and neck. Shit! No one was supposed to see that.

“Jesus!” Crista recoiled, releasing her grip and making Ashlee stumble back. “You really are a freak. Did you guys see that? Her nasty face.” Crista cringed, disgusted, while others stared at Ashlee’s uncovered injuries.

If she couldn’t act nice to Ashlee, she should have just ignored her like everyone else—but instead, she chose to bully her without reason. Ashlee quickly covered herself up again, her breathing growing shallow and erratic.

Did everyone see her? What would she say if someone asked her?

“Freak! Freak! Freak!” The taunts started echoing from the crowd surrounding them. Crista smirked at Ashlee. How could someone be so cruel?

Ashlee ran with all her remaining strength. School was really a kind of hell for her. But not that going home would bring her any relief; she saw monsters every day—disguised in human skin. It was nothing new, yet it always hurt.

“I wish I were that bird.” She whispered, watching the birds flying freely in the sky. She longed for their wings, their freedom.

The walk home was long. She never took the bus, thinking her mom couldn’t afford it, which meant she reached home only by dusk.

Her eyes flickered toward the pharmacy on the other side of the road. Looking both ways, she crossed, pulling off her hoodie. The wounds on her face had started to swell. They didn’t hurt much anymore, but she thought she should put some ointment on them.

Just as she prepared to cross, a prickling sensation ran down her spine. She sensed someone standing close behind her. Her heartbeat quickened. Who could it be? Could Crista have followed her?

Steeling herself, she spun around—only to find no one there. Maybe I’m just overthinking.

Inside the pharmacy, she bought some medicine and band-aids. She never carried a mirror, so she stopped in front of the shop’s glass wall to examine her wounds as she applied the ointment.

Her eyes met a pair of piercing red eyes watching her through the reflection. A shiver raced down her spine. That couldn’t be human. The figure had a human shape, but the eyes were far from normal. His face was obscured by a mask and hoodie, making it even worse.

It was getting dark. Ashlee, run! she commanded herself. Dropping the things she’d bought, she sprinted home, the strange figure trailing her until she reached her door.

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Inside, she quickly locked up. But the house was empty. Where are Mom and Uncle?

With trembling hands, she peeked through the curtains. The street outside was empty. Thank goodness he was gone. Relaxing slightly, she headed to her room. It bothered her that she’d wasted the medicine.

“Ugh! I’m so stupid,” Ashlee muttered, tossing her backpack aside as she collapsed onto the bed. The ceiling glimmered faintly in the dimness.

“Of course you are,” a voice sneered from the corner of the room. She shrieked, sitting up in terror. Those same red eyes stared back at her from the darkness. The intruder’s face was still hidden beneath a mask and hoodie. How had he gotten into her room?

“Who...who are you? What do you want?” Ashlee clutched an unlit lamp, her makeshift weapon. The guy smirked, clearly amused by her panic.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He raised his hands in a mock surrender, but she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. His hands looked normal—but those eyes.

“Then why are you here?” she demanded, still clutching the lamp tightly.

“To take you,” he whispered in a deep, husky voice, pulling off his mask to reveal a handsome face illuminated by the moonlight streaming through her window.

Damn, he’s smoking hot! For a second, her mind went blank, dazzled by his looks, but she shook herself out of it quickly.

“Who the hell are you?” she snapped, forcing herself to focus. Why were his eyes still red?

“I’m Kyle. Kyle Vaughan,” he said, though his smile looked forced, almost unnatural.

“And? Do I know you?” she asked, momentarily forgetting the urgency of getting him out of her room before anyone got home.

“Of course.” Kyle paused, his gaze lingering on her face. “Not.”

“Then how do you know me? Are you a stalker?” The question was absurd. He’d followed her and broken into her room.

The police! she thought suddenly. But where was her phone? Her eyes darted to her study table, where it lay—right next to him. Damn!

“Stalker?” Kyle scoffed. “What a cheap word.” His red eyes bore into hers. “I’m the Alpha, feared by everyone.”

His statement left her stunned. What on earth is he talking about?

Physics? Did he think he was a ray or something? Was it possible he was just...crazy? It would explain his behavior.

“Did you smoke pot?” she blurted. His eyes were red, and he thought he was some kind of physics concept. Maybe he was high.

“What?” Kyle looked at her, equally dumbfounded.

“Why are your eyes so red?” she asked, stalling for time, hoping to somehow reach her phone.

“Because I’m the Alpha. Didn’t you understand?” Kyle growled in frustration. An ordinary human girl? How could she be so dense?

Before either could make a move, a car horn honked outside, breaking their tension. Ashlee darted to the window and saw her uncle parking.

What the hell should I do?

Panic flooded her as she looked between Kyle and the door. She needed to get him out, fast.

“You need to leave,” she hissed, exasperated.

“You don’t order an Alpha around like that,” Kyle muttered, annoyed by her tone but also curious why she was suddenly so frantic.

“Just leave, Mr...whatever-your-name-is. I don’t have time for this.” She began pushing him toward the window, where she assumed he’d come in.

“Miss Ashlee Cox, I suggest you get your hands off me.” Kyle gripped her wrists firmly, stopping her.

“How do you know my full name?” Surprise flashed across her face. He was young and handsome, but dangerous too.

“No. There’s no time for this—please, just go,” she pleaded, her eyes full of desperation. He wanted to argue, but something in her pained expression stopped him.

“Ashlee!” her uncle’s voice boomed from downstairs, making her dizzy with fear. Kyle’s hold kept her from stumbling.

“Leave. Now,” she whispered harshly as her uncle’s footsteps grew louder.

With a graceful leap, Kyle slipped out the window, blending into the shadows. Ashlee’s uncle entered her room, a smug look on his face.

“What were you doing? Didn’t you hear me calling?” His voice held a dangerous edge.

“I...I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought,” she stammered, wringing her hands.

“Were you?” He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing painfully. He glanced around but saw no one.

“If I ever find anyone here with you this late, you know what will happen, don’t you?” he hissed into her ear, his breath foul.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible.

“Now go make dinner.” He shoved her roughly toward the door. Her injured shoulders throbbed in pain as she looked back out the window, where Kyle still watched her, his gaze unwavering.