THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
You are reading THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME, Chapter 11: Chapter 11. Read more chapters of THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME.
EVANGELINE POINT OF VIEW
I skip my next three classes.
After the lights exploded above me, I ran. Ran through empty hallways, past confused janitors sweeping up glass, past whispered conversations about electrical problems.
Nobody saw what really happened. Nobody knows the lights burst because of me.
But I know. And that terrifies me more than Ronan's cruelty ever could.
Now I sit in the abandoned east wing bathroom, staring at my hands. They look normal. Pale. Thin. The same hands that have always been weak and useless.
Except they're not useless anymore.
I flex my fingers and watch the fluorescent bulb above the mirror flicker. Just once. Like it's responding to something inside me.
My wolf paces restlessly in my mind. She's been awake since Professor Blackwood's potion, but now she feels different. Stronger. Like she's trying to tell me something I'm too stupid to understand.
"What's happening to me?" I whisper to my reflection.
The girl in the mirror doesn't answer. But her green eyes seem darker today. More aware. Like someone else is looking out through them.
The bell rings for lunch. Students flood the hallways with their usual noise and laughter. But I stay hidden in my empty bathroom, afraid of what might happen if I lose control again.
My stomach growls with hunger I haven't felt in weeks. The binding stone's effects are almost gone now. I can feel my wolf clearly, hear her thoughts mixing with mine.
*Hunt,* she whispers. *Feed.*
I press my hands against my temples. "Stop."
But she doesn't stop. If anything, she gets louder. More insistent.
*They hurt us. Make them pay.*
"I can't."
*You can. You just don't know how yet.*
Her words make me think of Professor Blackwood. The only person who seems to understand what's happening to me. The only one who might have answers.
I need to see her. Need to understand what's growing inside me before it destroys everything.
The walk to Room 237 feels like a journey through enemy territory. Every student I pass seems to stare. Every whisper sounds like it's about me. About the girl who somehow made every light in C-wing flicker during lunch.
I keep my head down and my hands buried in my pockets. Can't let anyone see them shake. Can't let anyone know how close I am to falling apart.
Professor Blackwood's door is open when I reach it. Warm light spills into the hallway, but something feels different today. The air around her room hums with energy that makes my skin prickle.
I knock softly.
"Come in, Evangeline."
She knows it's me before I even enter. Her voice sounds tired. Distant.
I push open the door and step inside. The room looks different in the afternoon light. The crystals hanging from the ceiling cast strange shadows on the walls. The air smells of herbs and something else. Something sharp that makes my nose wrinkle.
Professor Blackwood sits behind her desk, papers scattered in front of her. When she looks up, her storm-gray eyes are unreadable.
"I wondered when you'd come," she says quietly.
"The lights," I whisper, closing the door behind me. "In the hallway. That was me, wasn't it?"
She doesn't answer. Just watches me with those calculating eyes.
I sink into the chair across from her desk. My legs feel like water. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure she can hear it.
"What's happening to me?" The question tears from my throat like a sob. "Please. I need to understand."
"Some things can't be explained."
Her words hit me like ice water. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that knowledge doesn't always bring comfort." She sets down her pen and folds her hands. "Sometimes it brings more questions."
"I don't care about comfort. I care about understanding why I can make lights explode. Why my wolf feels different. Why everything about me is changing."
Professor Blackwood stands and walks to the window. Her back is turned to me, but I can see her reflection in the glass. Her expression is carefully blank.
"There are things buried deep in your bloodline that even I can't touch."
The words send chills through me. "What things?"
"Change is part of growing up."
"This isn't normal growing up!" My voice rises with desperation. "Normal people don't make electrical things break when they're upset. Normal wolves don't suddenly become... whatever I'm becoming."
"And what do you think you're becoming?"
The question hangs in the air between us. I realize I don't have an answer. Don't even know how to put what I'm feeling into words.
"Something dangerous," I whisper. "Something that scares me."
She turns from the window but doesn't come closer. "Fear can be useful. It keeps us careful."
"Careful of what?"
"Of ourselves. Of what we're capable of when we stop holding back."
My hands clench into fists. "You're not telling me anything. You're just speaking in riddles."
"Perhaps because some answers must be discovered, not given."
"That's not fair!" The words explode from me with enough force to make the crystals above us chime. "You gave me that potion. You started this. You have to help me understand what it's done to me."
The air in the room grows heavy. Charged with energy that makes the temperature drop. Papers flutter across her desk like snow.
I catch sight of myself in the dark window behind her. For just a second, my reflection looks different. My eyes seem to glow with faint silver light. My face looks sharper. More dangerous.
Then it's gone, and I'm just me again. Confused and scared and desperately alone.
Professor Blackwood watches the chaos with calm eyes. "Interesting."
"What's interesting? The fact that I'm losing control? The fact that I don't know what I am anymore?"
"The fact that your power responds to emotion. Most supernatural abilities require focus. Intent. Yours seems to feed on raw feeling."
It's the closest thing to real information she's given me. I latch onto it desperately.
"What does that mean? What kind of power responds to emotion?"
But she's already shaking her head. "I've said too much."
"You've said nothing!" I stand up so fast my chair tips over. "Please. I'm begging you. Help me understand."
"Some understanding must be earned."
"How? How do I earn it?"
"By learning control. By discovering what you're truly capable of." She pauses, studying me with those unreadable eyes. "By accepting what you can't change."
"And if I hurt someone while I'm learning? If I lose control completely?"
Her expression softens slightly. "Then you'll learn the real cost of power."
The words chill me to the bone. "You think I'm going to hurt people."
"I think you're capable of many things. Good and bad."
"Then teach me! Help me choose good!"
"I can't choose for you, Evangeline. No one can."
Tears burn my eyes. Tears of frustration and fear and crushing loneliness.
"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know who I am anymore. And you're the only person who seems to understand anything about what's happening to me."
"Understanding and explaining are different things."
"Why won't you help me?"
For a moment, something flickers across her face. Pain, maybe. Or regret.
"Because some knowledge is a burden. And you're not ready to carry it yet."
"When will I be ready?"
"Soon."
The word hangs between us like a promise and a threat.
"How soon?"
"When you stop asking questions and start finding answers for yourself."
I want to scream. Want to demand she tell me everything. But the power building in my chest feels dangerous. Unstable. Like it might explode and destroy everything in this room.
"I should go," I whisper.
"Yes. Before you break something that can't be fixed."
Her words follow me as I walk toward the door. Cold. Final. Offering no comfort.
"Professor?"
She looks up from her papers.
"Am I dangerous?"
The silence stretches between us for an eternity.
"Everyone is dangerous, Evangeline. The question is whether you'll learn to control it or let it control you."
I leave her office with more questions than answers. With the terrible knowledge that whatever I'm becoming, I'm facing it alone.
The hallway feels endless as I walk toward the exit. Each step echoes like thunder in my ears. Students give me strange looks as I pass, but I barely see them.
I'm changing into something I don't understand. Something that might be dangerous. Something that even Professor Blackwood won't explain.
And soon, whatever that means, I'll have to figure it out for myself.
By the time I reach the parking lot, one thing is clear.
I'm on my own.
Completely and utterly alone.
With power I don't understand and no one willing to help me learn what it means.
What could possibly go wrong?
I skip my next three classes.
After the lights exploded above me, I ran. Ran through empty hallways, past confused janitors sweeping up glass, past whispered conversations about electrical problems.
Nobody saw what really happened. Nobody knows the lights burst because of me.
But I know. And that terrifies me more than Ronan's cruelty ever could.
Now I sit in the abandoned east wing bathroom, staring at my hands. They look normal. Pale. Thin. The same hands that have always been weak and useless.
Except they're not useless anymore.
I flex my fingers and watch the fluorescent bulb above the mirror flicker. Just once. Like it's responding to something inside me.
My wolf paces restlessly in my mind. She's been awake since Professor Blackwood's potion, but now she feels different. Stronger. Like she's trying to tell me something I'm too stupid to understand.
"What's happening to me?" I whisper to my reflection.
The girl in the mirror doesn't answer. But her green eyes seem darker today. More aware. Like someone else is looking out through them.
The bell rings for lunch. Students flood the hallways with their usual noise and laughter. But I stay hidden in my empty bathroom, afraid of what might happen if I lose control again.
My stomach growls with hunger I haven't felt in weeks. The binding stone's effects are almost gone now. I can feel my wolf clearly, hear her thoughts mixing with mine.
*Hunt,* she whispers. *Feed.*
I press my hands against my temples. "Stop."
But she doesn't stop. If anything, she gets louder. More insistent.
*They hurt us. Make them pay.*
"I can't."
*You can. You just don't know how yet.*
Her words make me think of Professor Blackwood. The only person who seems to understand what's happening to me. The only one who might have answers.
I need to see her. Need to understand what's growing inside me before it destroys everything.
The walk to Room 237 feels like a journey through enemy territory. Every student I pass seems to stare. Every whisper sounds like it's about me. About the girl who somehow made every light in C-wing flicker during lunch.
I keep my head down and my hands buried in my pockets. Can't let anyone see them shake. Can't let anyone know how close I am to falling apart.
Professor Blackwood's door is open when I reach it. Warm light spills into the hallway, but something feels different today. The air around her room hums with energy that makes my skin prickle.
I knock softly.
"Come in, Evangeline."
She knows it's me before I even enter. Her voice sounds tired. Distant.
I push open the door and step inside. The room looks different in the afternoon light. The crystals hanging from the ceiling cast strange shadows on the walls. The air smells of herbs and something else. Something sharp that makes my nose wrinkle.
Professor Blackwood sits behind her desk, papers scattered in front of her. When she looks up, her storm-gray eyes are unreadable.
"I wondered when you'd come," she says quietly.
"The lights," I whisper, closing the door behind me. "In the hallway. That was me, wasn't it?"
She doesn't answer. Just watches me with those calculating eyes.
I sink into the chair across from her desk. My legs feel like water. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure she can hear it.
"What's happening to me?" The question tears from my throat like a sob. "Please. I need to understand."
"Some things can't be explained."
Her words hit me like ice water. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that knowledge doesn't always bring comfort." She sets down her pen and folds her hands. "Sometimes it brings more questions."
"I don't care about comfort. I care about understanding why I can make lights explode. Why my wolf feels different. Why everything about me is changing."
Professor Blackwood stands and walks to the window. Her back is turned to me, but I can see her reflection in the glass. Her expression is carefully blank.
"There are things buried deep in your bloodline that even I can't touch."
The words send chills through me. "What things?"
"Change is part of growing up."
"This isn't normal growing up!" My voice rises with desperation. "Normal people don't make electrical things break when they're upset. Normal wolves don't suddenly become... whatever I'm becoming."
"And what do you think you're becoming?"
The question hangs in the air between us. I realize I don't have an answer. Don't even know how to put what I'm feeling into words.
"Something dangerous," I whisper. "Something that scares me."
She turns from the window but doesn't come closer. "Fear can be useful. It keeps us careful."
"Careful of what?"
"Of ourselves. Of what we're capable of when we stop holding back."
My hands clench into fists. "You're not telling me anything. You're just speaking in riddles."
"Perhaps because some answers must be discovered, not given."
"That's not fair!" The words explode from me with enough force to make the crystals above us chime. "You gave me that potion. You started this. You have to help me understand what it's done to me."
The air in the room grows heavy. Charged with energy that makes the temperature drop. Papers flutter across her desk like snow.
I catch sight of myself in the dark window behind her. For just a second, my reflection looks different. My eyes seem to glow with faint silver light. My face looks sharper. More dangerous.
Then it's gone, and I'm just me again. Confused and scared and desperately alone.
Professor Blackwood watches the chaos with calm eyes. "Interesting."
"What's interesting? The fact that I'm losing control? The fact that I don't know what I am anymore?"
"The fact that your power responds to emotion. Most supernatural abilities require focus. Intent. Yours seems to feed on raw feeling."
It's the closest thing to real information she's given me. I latch onto it desperately.
"What does that mean? What kind of power responds to emotion?"
But she's already shaking her head. "I've said too much."
"You've said nothing!" I stand up so fast my chair tips over. "Please. I'm begging you. Help me understand."
"Some understanding must be earned."
"How? How do I earn it?"
"By learning control. By discovering what you're truly capable of." She pauses, studying me with those unreadable eyes. "By accepting what you can't change."
"And if I hurt someone while I'm learning? If I lose control completely?"
Her expression softens slightly. "Then you'll learn the real cost of power."
The words chill me to the bone. "You think I'm going to hurt people."
"I think you're capable of many things. Good and bad."
"Then teach me! Help me choose good!"
"I can't choose for you, Evangeline. No one can."
Tears burn my eyes. Tears of frustration and fear and crushing loneliness.
"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know who I am anymore. And you're the only person who seems to understand anything about what's happening to me."
"Understanding and explaining are different things."
"Why won't you help me?"
For a moment, something flickers across her face. Pain, maybe. Or regret.
"Because some knowledge is a burden. And you're not ready to carry it yet."
"When will I be ready?"
"Soon."
The word hangs between us like a promise and a threat.
"How soon?"
"When you stop asking questions and start finding answers for yourself."
I want to scream. Want to demand she tell me everything. But the power building in my chest feels dangerous. Unstable. Like it might explode and destroy everything in this room.
"I should go," I whisper.
"Yes. Before you break something that can't be fixed."
Her words follow me as I walk toward the door. Cold. Final. Offering no comfort.
"Professor?"
She looks up from her papers.
"Am I dangerous?"
The silence stretches between us for an eternity.
"Everyone is dangerous, Evangeline. The question is whether you'll learn to control it or let it control you."
I leave her office with more questions than answers. With the terrible knowledge that whatever I'm becoming, I'm facing it alone.
The hallway feels endless as I walk toward the exit. Each step echoes like thunder in my ears. Students give me strange looks as I pass, but I barely see them.
I'm changing into something I don't understand. Something that might be dangerous. Something that even Professor Blackwood won't explain.
And soon, whatever that means, I'll have to figure it out for myself.
By the time I reach the parking lot, one thing is clear.
I'm on my own.
Completely and utterly alone.
With power I don't understand and no one willing to help me learn what it means.
What could possibly go wrong?
End of THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME Chapter 11. Continue reading Chapter 12 or return to THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME book page.