The boy's smirk widened as he leaned closer, fingers daring to brush against Isabella's ponytail.
"Beautiful," he mocked, voice low and venomous. "I've never seen anyone like you… delicate, perfect. You should be mine."
His companions laughed, circling her like vultures. One of them reached for the frame of her glasses, tapping them as though testing how much it would take to break her silence.
But Isabella didn't flinch. She sat rigid, her hands folded tightly on the desk, ignoring them with a calmness that only enraged them further.
Theodore's golden eyes never left her. They burned hotter with every second, a silent storm waiting to break.
Then—shift.
The boys grew restless when Isabella would not react. Their mocking laughter turned sharper. This time, their attention slid toward Seraphina.
"Well, well," one of them sneered, brushing his fingers against the sleeve of her arm, "your friend is just as pretty. Maybe prettier. She can replace you, Isabella, if she wants."
Another hand reached for Seraphina's hair. She recoiled, fear flashing in her eyes, but their laughter grew louder, crueler.
That was when Isabella's patience cracked.
A sudden heat pulsed through her veins—anger, sharp and uncontainable. It exploded outward like a silent thunderclap. Her spectacles slipped down her nose and clattered against the desk.
And her hair—tied neatly only moments ago—unraveled on its own, cascading around her face as though summoned by some hidden force.
The classroom went still.
Then her eyes lifted.
No longer the deep, pinched-black they had always been—now they glowed, a violet so rich, so piercing, it seemed otherworldly. The color of secrets never meant to be revealed.
Her gaze swept across the room, sharp and silent, a warning carved into light itself.
The boys froze, laughter caught in their throats. One stepped back, another cursed under his breath.
Even the Alpha of the enemy pack, lounging so casually only moments ago, sat up straighter, his smirk faltering as he stared into those impossible eyes.
And Theodore—Theodore's golden flames roared higher, recognition flashing in his gaze. He had never seen anything so fierce, so breathtaking.
For the first time, Isabella wasn't just a girl in spectacles.
She was something more. Something untouchable.
The room held its breath.