17: The Pull of the Alpha
Marcus walked into J High the next morning, his backpack slung over his shoulder, trying to mask the tension in his chest. The halls were buzzing even louder than usual—rumors about the "animal attack" hadn't died down, especially after the news dropped that one of the cops was in the hospital.
And then he saw him.
Logan Lee.
Logan leaned against the wall, towering as always, scowl plastered on his face. But Marcus noticed something off right away. His eyes weren't yellow anymore; they glowed faintly blue.
Marcus froze. His heart skipped. He remembered the lore he had studied from My Werewolf System.
Marcus (thinking): "Red eyes… Alpha. Blue eyes… Beta. That means—"
And in that instant, Logan's eyes locked with his. They both knew it. The pull. The connection. Some thread of invisible command that pulled Marcus's chest tight… and Logan's fists clenched.
Logan: (in a low growl) "What the hell did you do to me, Marcus Lane?"
Marcus: (softly) "…I'm the Alpha. And you-" (he steps closer, his voice steady) "-are mine."
Logan's jaw flexed, his teeth grinding. Rage radiated off him. But then Marcus leaned in and quietly said:
Marcus: "Sit."
Logan's legs bent against his will. His whole body trembled, veins bulging in resistance, but he sank onto the bench beside him.
Logan: (enraged) "Damn you! My body—why won't it listen to me?!"
Marcus: His voice was low almost testing. "Because you're the Beta. And I'm the Alpha."
Lunchtime: Burn Knuckles
At lunch, Marcus sat with Vasco, Jace, Jiho, Duke, and a few others. Logan hung around outside the cafeteria, his glare boring holes into Marcus's back.
Vasco leaned forward, studying Marcus closely.
Vasco: "Marcus. I need to ask you something. Last night. The wounds on those guys, the way you fight. that howl we heard. It didn't feel human. It felt. animal."
Jace: (rolling his eyes) "Don't start, Vasco. Werewolves don't exist. He's just. stronger now, that's it."
Vasco: (firm) "No. I know what I saw. The scratch marks were too deep, the movements too fast. Marcus fights like… like a beast."
The table fell silent. Marcus maintained a poker face, but his mind was racing.
Marcus: "If Vasco is already connecting the dots, I need to keep this under control."
The Cop
Meanwhile, across town, the female cop was lying in a dim hospital room. Her name: Detective Han So-Ra. Early 30s, sharp-eyed, known for her stubbornness and clean record.
But now, something was very wrong.
Her wound had sealed, leaving only faint scar tissue. Her temperature spiked, her appetite vanished—until she caught the scent of raw meat from the cafeteria down the hall. Her stomach growled so violently she doubled over.
As a nurse entered, she snapped her head toward him, pupils dilating, nostrils flaring. She smelled blood. She wanted it.
So-Ra (thinking): "What's happening to me…? No, no, I need to control it…"
Her fingernails scraped the sheets. Tiny slivers of keratin chipped off… revealing faintly sharper nails growing underneath.
After School
Marcus strode toward the gates, Logan following, his shoulders tense, anger fairly vibrating off his body.
Marcus: "We need to talk. Meet me behind the old gym. Don't make me call you."
Logan: Snarling, "You think I'm your dog?!" His voice thundered across the yard, but as soon as Marcus locked eyes with him and quietly said, "Come," Logan's body betrayed him. His feet moved. His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack. Marcus (to himself): "So it's true. No matter how much he hates it… he can't disobey me." Logan's pride burned hotter than ever; a man who had considered Marcus nothing more than prey was now chained by something even worse than fear. And Marcus? He was beginning to enjoy the control.