Chapter 2: The Bullying in School

The dirt path leading to Moonstone High was rough beneath Rose's worn-out shoes. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Birds chirped above, their carefree songs mocking the storm brewing inside her chest.

School had never been a place of learning for her. Not really. It was a battlefield disguised as a classroom—a place where only the strong survived, where the weak were crushed beneath the weight of unspoken rules.

And Rose?

She was the weakest of them all.

She felt it in the way the other students' eyes slid over her, dismissing her as unimportant. She heard it in their whispers, their cruel laughter behind her back. She knew it from the way her name had become a joke among the pack's youth.

"Rose? Oh, you mean the stray?"

"She doesn't even have a real family."

"No one will ever choose her."

Her fingers clenched around the straps of her bag as she walked toward the school gates. She had survived this long by keeping her head down, by avoiding conflict, by pretending their words didn't sting.

But some days, it was harder than others.

Today felt like one of those days.

From the moment Rose entered the schoolyard, she felt it—the shift in energy, the way conversations hushed when she walked by, the not-so-subtle glances thrown her way.

The pack's hierarchy was set in stone. At the top were the future warriors, the Alphas-in-training. Beneath them were the Betas, the strong and intelligent, those who would serve as second-in-command. Then came the Deltas, the scouts, the messengers, those with skills necessary for the pack's survival.

And at the bottom?

Omegas.

They weren't strong enough to fight, not important enough to hold power. They were tolerated, but only just.

And Rose?

She was even lower than that.

She wasn't just an omega—she was an orphan, a girl with no known lineage. A mystery, an outsider, a potential threat.

Some whispered that she was the child of a rogue. Others said she was cursed.

Whatever the truth was, it didn't matter.

Because no one cared enough to find out.

"Move, stray."

Rose barely had time to react before a hard shoulder slammed into hers, sending her stumbling forward. Her books slipped from her grasp, scattering across the ground.

Laughter erupted around her.

She knew that voice. Knew it too well.

Jake. The Alpha's nephew.

Rose swallowed the anger rising in her throat and bent down to pick up her books.

She had learned long ago not to fight back.

Fighting meant making things worse.

"Pathetic," Jake muttered, kicking one of her notebooks farther away. "You don't even belong here."

Rose bit her tongue. She kept her head low as she reached for the book, but before her fingers could grasp it, another foot came down on the cover, pinning it to the ground.

"Oops," Hailey's sickly sweet voice rang out. "Were you reaching for this?"

Rose's chest tightened.

Of course, Hailey was here.

She was always there, always waiting for a chance to remind Rose of her place.

Hailey, with her perfect golden hair and sharp, calculating eyes. The younger sister of the quadruplet Alphas-in-waiting. A future Luna.

And Rose?

She was nothing in comparison.

Rose didn't answer. She knew it wouldn't help.

Hailey smirked. "What's wrong, stray? Cat got your tongue?"

More laughter.

More whispers.

Rose forced herself to stay still.

She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Come on, Hailey," one of her friends giggled. "She's not worth it."

Hailey finally lifted her foot, allowing Rose to grab her notebook.

And just like that, they were gone, sauntering away like they had done nothing wrong.

But the damage was done.

Rose could still hear the echoes of their laughter as she forced herself to stand.

She hugged her books to her chest, heart pounding, and walked away.

This was just the beginning of the day.

And it was only going to get worse.

Rose sat in the back of the classroom, as far from the others as she could manage.

She kept her head down, staring at her worn-out notebook, trying to ignore the snickers and hushed whispers around her.

The teacher's voice droned on, but Rose barely listened.

She couldn't afford to.

She was too focused on the feeling of eyes boring into her back.

Jake sat a few rows ahead, leaning back in his chair, tossing a pencil between his fingers.

Hailey sat to the side, whispering to her friends, shooting Rose amused glances.

She didn't need to hear them to know they were talking about her.

They always were.

A piece of crumpled paper hit the side of her desk.

She ignored it.

Another one followed.

Then another.

Laughter.

Rose inhaled sharply, gripping her pencil so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Don't react. Don't react. Don't react."

She had learned that lesson early.

Reacting meant losing.

Reacting meant playing into their hands.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

Combat class was the worst part of her day.

It wasn't just a class—it was a test. A challenge. A way for the strongest to prove themselves and for the weakest to be exposed.

Rose already knew which category she fell into.

She stood at the edge of the training field, stomach twisting as the instructor called out pairs.

And then she heard it.

"Rose and Jake."

Her heart sank.

Jake smirked as he stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

The instructor barely glanced at them before giving the order.

"Begin."

Rose barely had time to react before Jake was moving.

She tried to dodge.

Tried to avoid the hit.

But she was too slow.

His fist slammed into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs. She hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.

Laughter.

Always laughter.

She struggled to get up, but Jake wasn't done.

He grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet.

"Come on, stray," he sneered. "Fight back."

Rose's vision blurred.

Her body screamed in pain, but she refused to cry.

She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Enough," the instructor finally said, but there was no concern in his voice.

Just indifference.

Jake let go, letting her fall back onto the dirt.

Rose forced herself up.

Forced herself to stand.

Because she had no choice.

By the time school ended, Rose's body ached.

She moved through the hallways like a ghost, unseen, unnoticed.

She had no one waiting for her.

No one to walk home with.

No one to ask if she was okay.

She walked the same lonely path she always did, the sky darkening above her.

And as she stepped through the quiet woods back to the Beta's home—the only place that had ever felt safe—she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Because tomorrow, she would have to do it all over again.

And she didn't know how much longer she could take it.