Kira had already guessed who Mrs. Samuels was referring to. Without a word, she dropped her spoon onto the table and rose to her feet, causing Mr. and Mrs. Samuels to exchange confused glances.
Silent and resolute, Kira turned on her heel and headed for the door.
"Kira, where are you going, my child?" Mrs. Samuels asked, concern lacing her voice.
She received no reply. Kira grasped the doorknob, pushed it open, and stepped outside. Without hesitation, she sprinted, covering a kilometer in seconds, then changed direction abruptly.
She paused before a community—streets lined with houses and bars. She listened quietly, sniffing the air for a few minutes.
Her eyes suddenly gleamed a bright, piercing blue. Without hesitation, she strode directly toward a bar. The sign on the door was closed, but she paid no mind.
Pushing the door open, she entered.
"We're closed today, go somewhere else..." Pascal's voice trailed off as he turned and saw who had entered.
Their gazes locked, and a smile crept across his face. He set down the rag he'd been using to wipe the tables. "You changed your mind," he said softly.
Kira snapped, irritation evident. "No. What the hell were you doing at my house?"
Pascal's lips curled subtly as he picked up his rag again, continuing to wipe the table without answering immediately.
Kira's impatience boiled over. "Don't ever show up at my place again, or I swear I'll break your damn legs."
She spun on her heel, heading for the door. Suddenly, Pascal spoke, his voice calm but edged with something darker. "Your parents were so happy when I told them who I am to you. They sounded desperate—wishing we could be together. They're worried about you."
Kira turned sharply, a faint, cold smile playing on her lips. "You think you're special because you're my mate, don't you?"
Pascal didn't hide his pride. He nodded. "Your parents made me realize that."
Kira sneered. "They don't know I have another mate."
Hearing this, Pascal's expression darkened. His grip tightened on the rag, and his eyes turned icy. His voice was deep and steady. "That's impossible. You're mine, and I don't want to share you."
Arms spread, Kira nonchalantly turned to leave. Just as she reached the door, Pascal called after her, a hint of doubt in his tone. "You're lying."
She pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind her, muttering under her breath, "I don't lie."
Without looking back, she walked away.
Walking down the streets, Kira heard voices. Listening attentively, she heard two men discussing.
"She is such a sweet girl. When I am done, I am going to pass her to you," one of them said.
While the other retorted, "Fuck you, I will go first."
She quickly walked over and saw two men fighting over a drunk lady who lay on the ground without moving.
She looked at them coldly and then walked over step by step, lecturing, "Horny bastards, you don't even care whether she is alive or not. All you are interested in is trying to cure your urge, huh, two silly perverts."
The men stopped their squabbles and then turned to Kira, their eyes lit up with joy. They didn't expect a prettier beauty to come to their door. One of them almost drooled while staring at Kira.
"Little girl, how about you let me play with you a little? I promise I will not touch her," he said.
Kira's face darkened, and she looked at them coldly.
The other said, rubbing his palms in anticipation while licking his lips, "I will be gentle. I promise to make you feel good."
Kira didn't bother listening to their blabber nonsense anymore. She walked towards them briskly, startling the two men. But then they suddenly became excited when Kira came forward on her own.
They both moved at once to grab her, but she quickly grasped their outstretched arms. Her grip was so tight that they broke out in a cold sweat. They stared at her in shock and disbelief.
She delivered kicks to their groins.
"Argh!" they both screamed, grabbing their balls before rolling on the ground in pain.
Kira moved and carried the drunk lady on the ground. She walked towards a door and knocked on it, then left.
The door creaked open, and an old woman emerged. She looked around in surprise. Lowering her gaze, she saw the drunk lady sleeping on the ground. She peered into the distance.
Kira could see her, but she couldn't see Kira. After she confirmed that the old woman would help the drunk lady, she turned around and left.
"You seem to hate men," Kira heard Pascal say, leaning against an electricity pole with his hands in his pockets.
Kira didn't bother to hide her feelings. She responded with a tone of unwavering certainty, "I do."
Without another word, she turned and walked away. Pascal immediately followed her silently, his footsteps light and steady by her side. Suddenly, Kira stopped and shot him an icy, sideways glance.
"Why the fuck are you following me, huh?" she demanded.
Pascal's eyes softened with an intense hunger. "Your scent intoxicates me, and I can't get enough of it. I want to spend my night knowing you're close. You're my mate, Kira, and my wolf needs you desperately."
Disgust flashed across Kira's face. She sneered. "I have another mate at school. He needs me too."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and ran off into the darkness. Pascal watched her silhouette vanish into the night, clenched his fists tightly, his gaze cold and intense. A faint, almost sinister smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he whispered with a deep, unwavering voice, "You are mine, Kira. I won't share you with anyone. You belong to me."
He didn't chase after her. Instead, he turned in the opposite direction, heading away.
The next day, Kira was unaware that her words had set Pascal into motion. He followed her to school, lurking in the shadows. She had just left the canteen, laughing and chatting with Sophia, when suddenly her laughter faded. She stopped, turning sharply to look toward a boy surrounded by a group of girls. They stared at him intently, whispering among themselves.
The boy—distant and aloof—didn't speak to any of them. His posture was haughty, and when a girl stepped forward and said, "Davies, I love you," he retorted coldly, "Get a mirror."