Immediately the words left Sydney's mouth, as if compelled by the pain and anger she felt, Sydney slapped Chris again. Twice.
Mira winced in pain, shouting before she could stop herself, "Mom!!"
"What?" Her mother glared at her—daggers.
"The mess has already been created!! Beating him won't solve it, will it? And besides, if you're beating him, then what would you do to these stupid Godforsaken greedy wolves who gambled with a child, no less, using his weaknesses against him, huh?" Mira grumbled with a shout—but froze the moment the words left her mouth.
The fuck, Mira?! she screamed inwardly.
And even more so when she felt the temperature in the room drop by several degrees.
Her mum and her brother stared at her in shock, while—worst of all—those bastard wolves, the ones who hadn't even been looking her way before, were now glaring at her with raw, killing intent radiating from them.
"At this point, you're more stupid than your brother!!" her mother growled. "Hurry up and apologize to them."
Before Mira could act on her mother's words, she heard one of the men growl out a cold, deadly, "No need for that."
The intensity of his voice made her tremble.
She couldn't help but ask in fright—she could lower her fucking pride and apologize, she really could—but the fact that he opposed it made her skin crawl. She didn't feel good about this. Not at all.
"You don't want my apology?" she asked him.
The man only smiled darkly in return, his voice low and chilling as he answered, "Of course I don't. Where's the fun in that... when there's something else you can offer, huh?"
Offer something?
Mira froze instantly, a cold sweat breaking out across her spine. Much like her brother had trembled before those wolves, she felt the same dread now. Any deal with werewolves never turned out well. She'd seen it firsthand. She didn't want that for herself. Not again. Not ever.
So she hurriedly blurted, "Offer something? What could I possibly have to offer? I'm just a poor human teenager living a poverty-stricken life—I don't have anything to offer!"
The other three men, also stunned by what their—what seemed like their boss—had just said, chimed in with mocking amusement.
"Yes, boss, what could you possibly want from her?" one of them sneered.
But the man ignored them, his lips curling into a slight sneer before his attention turned back to her. The glint in his eyes—cold, interested, too calm—made Mira's stomach churn.
And then, with a look that made her want to vomit, he said:
"That's where you're mistaken."
His eyes trailed boldly over her body, and for the first time in years, Mira—ever so arrogant, ever so defiant—wanted to shrink back and hide.
"You pretty little thing…" he murmured, "…have much more use than you can think of."
The fright and confusion on Mira's face was outright clear.
And then he toppled it all with three words that made her heart drop—words that made her tremble from head to toe:
"Let's make a deal."
And just like that, Mira found herself standing in front of her school. A school she never imagined she'd return to—at least not now. Why?
Because she couldn't afford the fees this term.
She'd been sent out like a stray, unwanted and forgotten. But now? Now, those men—those bastards—had made those dreams possible again.
She still remembered their conversation. It made her skin crawl and her stomach twist with fear. He had offered her a deal. A deal that sounded too good. Too clean. Too seamless. And that's exactly why she knew it wasn't.
She hadn't wanted to accept it. But what choice did she have? For fuck's sake, these were werewolves. And this entire mess had started because of her brother.
Those vile men had offered her a way out. One that seemed noble on the surface. But Mira knew better. She always did.
They told her that once every two years, applications for the so-called "One and All Lycanridge Academy" opened. All she had to do was buy the form and fill it out.
Had she heard of it?
Of course she had. Who hadn't?
This was Lycanridge Academy.
Every girl in her district drooled over the thought of getting in. They called it an elite academy—a golden ticket. A promised land. Riches. Prestige. Status. Safety.
But Mira? She had always sneered at it. Because while all those middle-headed girls chased after glitter and gold, she knew the truth.
The school was crawling with werewolves.
They warned them not to mingle with them. But everyone ignored that warning. Why?
Because they believed Lycanridge Academy was the only chance at a better life.
And maybe it was.
But not for people like her. Not for humans like Mira. Because despite the whispers of equality and unity, Lycanridge still charged humans—especially poor ones—through their teeth.
The moment the form was released, Mira had checked. It wasn't free. Of course it wasn't. There was no scholarship. No sponsorship. Just a form. A simple goddamn form you had to pay for. And even then, only a few applicants would be selected. After that, they'd still have to afford the ridiculously high tuition. Books. Uniforms. Transportation. It was never meant for someone like her.
That was why Mira didn't even blink at the opportunity when it came out. Her family couldn't even pay her local school fees—how could she dream of Lycanridge?
But somehow—either through twisted luck or cruel fate—those men had told her to go and buy the application form.
She'd made excuses, of course. She told them she couldn't buy it. That she didn't have the money. That she couldn't even return to her school until her outstanding fees were paid. And even if—somehow—she got into Lycanridge, how the hell would she afford it?
But then, the man had said something that stunned her.
He offered to cover everything.
The application fee. Her outstanding school fees. And if she got accepted? He'd pay the entire tuition. Everything.
Mira had rejected him.
Flat out.
Getting into Lycanridge wasn't that important to her. And the deal? It smelled like rot under perfume. They acted like she was the only one who would benefit.
That's what made it dangerous.
Because Mira knew: No one ever gives that much without expecting something bigger in return.
But then they dropped the real offer.
If she agreed to apply, they'd forget her brother's debt. Her family would get their home back. Their lives back.
All she had to do… was get in.
That's when fear hit her harder than anything else. Not because of what they said. But because of how far they were willing to go.
Still, she agreed.
And now, here she was.
Walking through the halls of her school. Not her dream school—her current one. The one filled with glares and whispers. Students paused, eyes trailing her like daggers as she passed, their thoughts screaming.
"How the hell is she back?"
But as always, Mira walked through them like ice, chin high, shoulders straight. Like she belonged.
She didn't.
But she'd mastered the art of pretending.
She walked into her classroom—her dreaded, humiliating classroom—and like always, heads snapped in her direction. Shock. Suspicion.
How did she pay her fees?
That shock quickly dissolved into something worse—judgmental stares. The kind that said:
"Oh, her mother probably spread her legs again."
But Mira said nothing. Just like always. She made her way to the front seat—the one they mocked her for. The one she chose on purpose.
Minutes passed. The teacher walked in. Lessons dragged on. And as always, he talked about Lycanridge Academy.
He always did.
About how noble it was. How it changed lives. How it was the only path to true success.
But he never said the one thing Mira wanted to know.
How to actually apply.
And that was the problem.
So, against every ounce of her pride and will, she did something she never imagined she'd do.
She raised her hand.
A quiet pause.
Then, she asked, "Sir, so how do I actually purchase this application form?"
The entire classroom froze.
Every neck snapped in her direction.
Shock.
Disbelief.
And something darker.
Just like that, Mira sent the entire room into the kind of silence that was louder than screams.