THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

**Evangeline's POV**
The alarm clock screams at 6:00 AM, but I've been awake for hours. Sleep left me somewhere between Ronan's cruel words and the endless loop of yesterday's humiliation playing in my head. I stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the paint like they hold answers to questions I'm too tired to ask.
My body aches. Not from bruises or cuts, but from something deeper. From carrying the weight of everyone's hatred. From pretending their words don't slice through me like glass. From hoping for scraps of kindness from people who see me as less than dirt.
My wolf stirs in the depths of my mind, no longer the whimpering creature she's been for weeks. She's quiet, but there's something different about her silence now. Like she's watching. Waiting.
I drag myself to the bathroom mirror. The girl looking back at me has hollow eyes and pale skin. Her hair hangs limp around her face like curtains trying to hide her shame. But something else stares back at me too. Something I almost don't recognize.
She's still standing.
After everything they've thrown at me, every cruel laugh and whispered insult, every moment of being treated like I don't belong anywhere, she's still here. Broken, maybe. Bleeding on the inside, definitely. But standing.
I touch the mirror, tracing the outline of my reflection. "No more breaking," I whisper to her. "No more waiting for them to decide I'm worth something."
The words taste strange in my mouth. Like medicine that burns going down but might actually heal. My wolf shifts, and for the first time in weeks, it doesn't feel like retreat. It feels like recognition.
I shower until the water runs cold, scrubbing away yesterday's tears and the phantom feeling of their stares. When I step out, steam covers the mirror completely. For a moment, I can't see myself at all, and it feels like freedom.
The hallway stretches before me like a battlefield. Students cluster in their usual groups, their voices creating a wall of sound that used to make me feel small. Today, something's different. I walk down the center of the hall, not hugging the walls like I usually do.
Whispers follow me, but they sound different now. Less like laughter, more like... curiosity?
"That's her," someone says as I pass.
"The one who fought Celeste?"
"She doesn't look scared anymore."
My wolf prowls just beneath my skin, alert but not anxious. She's listening to every whisper, every shift in tone. Something's changed in how they see me, and she knows it too.
I don't look back. Don't flinch. Don't apologize for taking up space. My footsteps echo against the floor, steady and sure. Each step feels like claiming territory that was always mine but I'd forgotten how to hold.
Madison's locker is three down from mine. She sees me coming and whispers something to her friends. They all turn to watch, probably expecting another show. Another moment where they can watch me crumble.
I open my locker without looking at them. Pull out my books. Close it with a quiet click. When I finally glance their way, Madison looks almost disappointed. Like she was hoping for tears or trembling hands.
"Morning," I say simply, then walk away.
Behind me, I hear Madison whisper, "What's wrong with her?"
Nothing's wrong with me. For the first time in weeks, nothing's wrong with me.
But as I round the corner, I nearly collide with a folded piece of paper that flutters to the ground from my locker. My heart stops. Anonymous notes never mean anything good.
I pick it up with trembling fingers and unfold it. The handwriting is neat, careful:
*You got lucky yesterday. Next time, you won't be so fortunate. Watch your back.*
My wolf snarls softly in my mind, a sound of warning rather than fear. Someone's planning something. Someone wants me to know I'm not safe.
I crumple the note and shove it in my pocket. Let them plan. Let them scheme. I'm done being afraid.
First period English with Mrs. Rodriguez. I usually sit in the back corner where I can disappear, but today I walk to the middle of the room. Right where everyone can see me. Where I can see everyone.
Mrs. Rodriguez starts discussing the symbolism in our assigned reading. She asks about the protagonist's transformation, and hands shoot up around the room. The usual suspects offering the same safe answers they always give.
My hand rises too.
Mrs. Rodriguez blinks in surprise. "Yes, Evangeline?"
The room goes quiet. Twenty pairs of eyes turn toward me, some curious, others skeptical. I feel their attention like weight pressing on my chest, but I don't crumble under it. My wolf steadies me, her presence a warm anchor in my chest.
"The protagonist doesn't just change," I say, my voice clearer than it's been in months. "She stops pretending to be what everyone else wants her to be. That's not transformation. That's revelation. She was always that person. She just finally decided to let everyone else see it."
The silence stretches. Mrs. Rodriguez nods slowly, a small smile creeping across her face. "Excellent insight, Evangeline. That's exactly the kind of deeper analysis we need."
A few students actually turn to look at me with something other than pity or disgust. Like maybe I just said something worth hearing. A boy named Tyler from my history class catches my eye and nods slightly. Not mockery. Not fear. Something that looks almost like respect.
For the rest of class, I participate. Not desperately, not trying to prove anything. Just... present. Like I belong here. Like my thoughts matter.
The cafeteria used to feel like walking into a den of wolves. Today, it just feels like a room full of teenagers eating lunch. I get my tray and scan for somewhere to sit. The table where Jessica and I used to eat together sits empty – she's been avoiding me since Celeste made it clear that associating with me was social suicide.
I find a spot at a half-empty table near the windows. The other students glance at me as I sit, but no one tells me to leave. No one makes a scene.
A girl named Amy, who I've seen around but never talked to, slides her water bottle across the table when mine tips over. A small gesture, but it feels huge.
"Thanks," I say.
She shrugs. "Happens to everyone."
Not earth-shattering conversation, but normal. Ordinary. Like I'm just another student instead of the school's favorite target.
As I eat, I notice something else. The usual pointing and snickering that follows me everywhere has quieted. People still look, but it's different now. Some still whisper, but others just... observe. Like they're trying to figure out what changed.
My wolf is alert, cataloging every shift in the room's energy. She's not hiding anymore. She's hunting – not for prey, but for truth. For the real threats hiding behind false smiles.
I'm halfway through my sandwich when Ronan walks in with his usual crowd. My heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when I see him, but something else happens too. The flutter dies quick, replaced by something colder.
He looks around the cafeteria, and for just a second, his eyes find mine. There's something in his expression I can't read. Guilt? Regret? Or maybe just irritation that I'm still here, still taking up space in his world.
Our eyes meet across the room, and I don't look away first. Don't drop my gaze like the pathetic Omega everyone expects me to be. I stare right back at him, letting him see that yesterday's cruelty didn't destroy me like he wanted it to.
My wolf grows still, watching him with predator's eyes. She's not whimpering anymore. She's evaluating. Measuring. And finding him lacking.
He looks away first.
The boy who once haunted my dreams now can't even hold eye contact with me. Something about that feels like winning.
But then I notice Celeste isn't with him. She's always with him, attached to his side like she belongs there. Her absence makes my wolf uneasy, ears pricked forward like she's listening for danger.
Where is she?