Chapter 2 THE CHASE

The lecture hall for Advanced Mythology buzzed with chatter, a cavernous space filled with the hum of students settling in.

Skye sat near the back, her bandaged palm throbbing under a flimsy strip of gauze. The sting wasn't just from the scrape, it carried the weight of yesterday's crash, the car, and that electric jolt from Derek's touch. She tried to focus on her new notes, scribbled in a rush that morning, but the words swam. The Mega Alpha: a mythic wolf with the strength of all packs, rising in times of chaos, born from spilled blood. The myth felt too close today, like a shadow creeping into her reality.

A hush rolled through the room, starting at the door and spreading like wildfire. Skye didn't need to look up. She felt him. The air shifted, heavy and charged, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

Derek Clawson had entered.

He stood at the entrance, scanning the rows. His black tshirt and jeans were simple, but he carried himself like he owned the place. His crimson eyes, sharp and unnatural, cut through the crowd's stares and whispers. They found her.

He moved down the steps, fluid and sure, ignoring empty seats until he reached her row. Without a word, he slid into the chair beside her, shrinking the space around them. His scent hit her-rain, sandalwood, and something wild, like a forest after a storm.

"Skye," he said, her name a low, deliberate note.

She kept her eyes on her notebook, heart pounding. "What, looking for another target to mow down?"

A soft chuckle rumbled from him, warm and disarming. "Brought you something." He set a sleek leatherbound notebook on her desk, its quality screaming money. Next to it, a steaming coffee from the campus's fanciest café, its rich aroma a far cry from her usual cheap brew.

"I don't want your stuff," she said, voice tight. She risked a glance at him and regretted it. Up close, he was overwhelming-sharp jaw, a faint scar slicing his eyebrow, and those red eyes that seemed to peel back her defenses.

"Not a bribe. An apology." His gaze flicked to her bandaged hand. "A real one. How's the hand?"

"Fine." Her cheeks warmed as she looked away. The professor started droning about Greek Titans, but the words were noise. Derek's presence drowned out everything.

"Just so you know," he murmured, voice low and private, "most people say 'thanks' when someone checks on them."

"Just so you know," she fired back, matching his tone, "most people don't check on you after slamming you with their car."

His lips twitched into a real smile, small but electric, turning his brutal good looks into something magnetic. "You're not most people, are you?"

He didn't speak again during the lecture, but his presence was a pulse beside her. He didn't take notes, just watched the professor, though his eyes flicked to her now and then. Each glance felt like a touch, sending her nerves into overdrive. The fifty minutes dragged, every shift of his arm, every breath, making her hyperaware of his size, his heat.

When class ended, Skye grabbed her things, desperate to bolt.

"I'll walk you to your next class," Derek said, standing to his full height, towering and unshakable.

"Not necessary."

"I insist."

They stepped into the hall together, and the stares hit like a wave. Not just for him-for them. Skye, the quiet scholarship girl, beside Derek Clawson, campus royalty. Whispers followed, hungry for gossip.

He matched her pace, his long strides easing to fit hers. "So, Skye. What's your deal?"

"No deal. I go to class, study, go home."

"Home's where?"

"None of your business."

He laughed, a real, startled sound that turned heads. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

"Should I be?"

His smile faded, replaced by a look that was halfcurious, halfdark. "Yeah," he said, voice low and serious. "Most people should."

Before she could unpack that, a syrupy voice cut in.

"Derek! There you are. I've been searching everywhere."

Joanna appeared, arm looping through his like she owned him. Flanked by her friends Chloe and Isabelle, she was a vision of polished beauty, her eyes glinting with malice as they fixed on Skye.

"Oh, it's you," Joanna said, her smile sharp as glass. "Still hobbling? Or is that just how you walk? Heard you took a nasty spill yesterday." Her friends giggled, sharp and mean.

Skye's face burned, but she stood tall. "I'm fine, thanks."

Derek's body tensed. He pulled his arm free, slow and deliberate. "What do you want, Joanna?"

"Just reminding you about the Sigma party tonight." She leaned closer, voice syrupy. "You're my date, remember?"

"Not going," Derek said, eyes still on Skye.

Joanna blinked, her perfect mask cracking. "What? You promised. We always go together."

"Changed my mind." His tone was steel, final. He turned to her, and Skye saw raw power in his gaze-commanding, untouchable. "We're done, Joanna. Have been for a while."

Joanna's face paled, her social throne crumbling in public. Her eyes darted from Derek to Skye, blazing with fury. "You're dumping me? For her?" She spat the word "her" like poison. "This plain, nobody human? What, you slumming it now?"

The word "human" hit Skye like a slap, too sharp, too knowing. It wasn't just an insult-it felt like a blade aimed at her core.

Derek stepped forward, his presence swelling, the air turning cold. "Watch your words, Joanna," he said, voice a deadly whisper. "Apologize. Now."

Joanna froze, tears of rage in her eyes. She looked at Skye, lips trembling, but no apology came. With a choked sob, she spun and fled, her friends scrambling after her.

The hall went quiet, students pretending they hadn't seen the drama unfold.

Skye stared at Derek, mind spinning. He'd just torched his relationship with Northbridge's queen for her-a girl he barely knew. It was reckless, terrifying.

"Why'd you do that?" she whispered.

"She disrespected you," he said, like it was obvious. "I don't let that slide."

His phone buzzed, sharp and insistent. He pulled it out, and his face shifted-tensed, jaw tight. The text was short, from a blocked number: The forest is hungry. Come now. Don't be late.

"I gotta go," he said, all warmth gone. "Something's up."

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something raw in his eyes-not the confident campus king, but a boy carrying a weight too heavy to name. The boy who'd warned her to be afraid.

"You here tomorrow?" he asked.

She nodded, words stuck in her throat.

"Good." He reached out, his fingers brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was brief, but that electric spark flared again, softer but real. A promise.

Then he was gone, striding through the crowd, students parting like water.

Skye stood alone, the hallway buzzing around her. Her skin tingled where he'd touched her, his scent-forest and storm-lingering. In five minutes, he'd defended her, claimed her attention, and vanished. The coffee he'd left sat warm in her hand, a small anchor in the chaos.

She was in deep, uncharted waters. And part of her-a reckless, traitorous part-wanted to dive deeper.

But as she headed to her next class, her phone vibrated. A text from her dad. Her blood chilled as she read it: Skye. Come home after class. Don't stay on campus. It's urgent. The forests are restless. Mom's trip is delayed.

The secret world her parents lived in was calling. Its voice was sharp with warning, and Skye felt its pull, like a tide dragging her toward something she wasn't ready to face.

Skye's dorm was a small, cluttered sanctuary, books and notes spilling across her desk. She dropped her bag and sank onto her bed, the coffee from Derek still in her hand. She hadn't drunk it yet, too rattled to decide if it was a peace offering or something more. Her bandaged palm ached, a reminder of yesterday's crash and that impossible spark. She closed her eyes, trying to shake the image of Derek's crimson eyes, but they followed her into the dark.

Her parents' world had always been a mystery, halftold in bedtime stories and coded phone calls. Werewolves, pack laws, ancient feuds-things her mom shared with a smile, but never the full truth. Skye was human, an outsider, loved but separate. Now, her dad's text felt like a crack in that wall, a warning that the wild world was closer than ever.

She opened her laptop, pulling up her Mythology notes. The Mega Alpha stared back at her, its lore woven with blood and chaos. She'd always thought it was just a story, a myth to study. But Derek's eyes, that jolt, her dad's text-they felt like pieces of a puzzle she didn't want to solve.

A knock at her door jolted her. "Skye? You in there?" It was Mia, her roommate, a bubbly art major who always seemed to know the campus gossip.

"Yeah, come in," Skye called.

Mia burst in, eyes wide. "Girl, spill. I heard you were walking with Derek Clawson today. Like, the Derek Clawson. And he dumped Joanna? For you?"

Skye groaned, setting the coffee down. "It's not like that. He just... sat next to me in class."

"Sat next to you, bought you coffee, and publicly torched Joanna's ego," Mia said, flopping onto the bed. "That's not nothing. The whole campus is buzzing. You're, like, famous now."

"I don't want to be famous," Skye muttered. "I just want to get through my classes."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. Derek doesn't just notice people. He's... intense. And those eyes? Freaky, but hot. You're in trouble, Skye."

Skye didn't answer. She didn't need Mia to tell her she was in trouble. She felt it, like a storm brewing just out of sight.

Across campus, Derek moved through the rainsoaked streets, his motorcycle roaring beneath him. The text from the blocked number burned in his mind. The forest was calling, and it wasn't a request. His father's pack-his future-demanded his presence, and disobedience wasn't an option.

He'd grown up under his father's iron rule, trained to be the next Alpha, his wolf honed into a weapon. Northbridge was his one escape, a place to play human for a while. But Skye had changed that. Her golden eyes, her defiance, that electric spark-they'd woken something in him, something his wolf recognized. She wasn't pack, wasn't prey, but she was something. And that made her dangerous.

The forest loomed ahead, dark and thick with mist. He parked his bike and stepped into the trees, the air heavy with the scent of pine and earth. The pack was waiting, their eyes glowing in the shadows. His father's voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding.

"You're late, Derek."

Derek straightened, meeting his father's gaze. "Had business on campus."

"Business?" His father's lip curled. "Or distractions? We've got bigger problems. The forest is restless. Something's coming. And you'd better be ready."

Derek's thoughts flashed to Skye, to the spark that had passed between them. Whatever was coming, she was part of it. He felt it in his bones.