IRREVERSIBLE MISTAKE

"Aren't you taking me with you?" Zeda asked, frowning as Adrian got into a white Aston Martin.

"Obviously not," he said, shutting the door.

"Hey, wait!" Zeda yelled, tapping his window.

Adrian glared at her, rolling it down slowly. "Can I help you?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"Are you kidding me? You're supposed to show me around the mage kingdom and teach me things, like Mr. Percival said," Zeda reminded him, irritated.

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Let's save it for another day. I've got something more important to do right now."

Zeda glared at him. "Another day? We haven't even planned my training periods."

She was eager to start. If she really had supernatural powers, then she wanted to access them quickly.

Adrian let out a frustrated sigh and held out his hand. "Give me your schedule."

"What?" Zeda asked.

"Are you deaf?" he snapped impatiently. "I said, give me your schedule. I'll look at it with mine during my spare time and figure out some good days for your training by tomorrow."

Zeda ignored his rude tone. "When do I get it back?"

"Tomorrow." Adrian hissed. "I'm not eating it."

"I don't expect you to eat it, unless you're an animal," Zeda shot back, irritated.

Adrian looked horrified. "You know I'm a prince here right? You should mind how you talk to me."

"Do I look like I care?" Zeda replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Adrian stared at her for a long moment, stunned. Who's this girl?

He sighed, remembering that she'll be his responsibility from today. What has he gotten himself into?

"How do I get my class schedule back?" Zeda asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

"Take a cab," Adrian replied. "All cab drivers know where the mage kingdom is."

Zeda sighed and handed him the document with her class schedules.

"So how do I find you when I get there?" she asked.

"You call me."

"How? Yell your name until you appear?"

Adrian held out his hand again, shaking his head in frustration. "Your phone."

Zeda gave him her phone. He quickly typed in his number and handed it back. She dialed it, and his phone rang immediately.

"That's me calling. Save it so you don't have to ask tomorrow," she said.

"Whatever," Adrian replied, buckling his seatbelt. "Just don't message or call me unless you really need to, and please don't send me stupid snaps."

With that, he rolled up his window and sped off, the wind from his car lifting her skirt.

Zeda stood there for a minute, still staring in the direction his car had gone, completely shocked.

His last words replayed in her mind. Send him stupid snaps? She knew he meant nude pictures.

Zeda clenched her fists. Who did he think he was? If that's how other girls got his attention, he was in for a big disappointment.

Feeling insulted and boiling with anger, she stormed off in the opposite direction he had gone.

Maybe a walk would help cool her down. It was also a good chance to explore the school and get to know her surroundings.

As she walked, her anger faded, replaced by wonder as she looked around: the beautiful buildings, the clean roads, the fresh air.

She saw a sign at a bend that said Sports Department.

Her curiosity won out, and she turned, amazed by what she saw.

Unlike the theater department, which was all buildings, the sports department was vast acres of land with a soccer field, a basketball court, a football field, a volleyball court, a tennis court, and a hockey ice rink.

Everything was fully set up, a few feet apart, and filled with people. Most were students of both genders in sports clothes, and a few were in uniforms.

Mesmerized, she got closer and was heading towards the volleyball court where girls were playing, when a ball smacked her back, knocking her to the ground.

She groaned in pain and saw the soccer ball had stopped nearby.

Around her, she heard laughter and snickers as she struggled to her feet.

"Oops, that must have hurt, pretty girl," a guy mocked from the edge of the soccer field. His pale skin told her he was a vampire.

Three of his teammates joined him. Even the girls playing volleyball had stopped to watch.

"You've got sexy legs, though. Can't wait to wrap them around me," said another guy with tanned skin and a sly smile. He made a crude gesture with his crotch.

Zeda gritted her teeth. Had they seen her underwear too? Her skirt was short enough.

Anger surged within her, and she took a step toward them. "You bastards! Is that how you apologize for being stupid and horrible at shooting?"

The volleyball girls snickered. All the soccer players had come over to see what was holding up their game.

They laughed and booed the two guys she had spoken to.

"Why don't we skip the insults, Miss Pretty Legs," the first guy said with a smile that showed his fangs. "Just pass us the ball. We've got a game to finish."

Zeda clenched her fists. Was he trying to scare her? She glared at the soccer ball sitting nearby.

With a final glance at the soccer players, she stomped to the ball and kicked it away with all her strength.

The sound of shattering glass echoed a couple seconds later. Zeda followed the sound and covered her mouth in horror at what she saw.

A few feet away was a brown Porsche car with its driver's door window shattered. She could even see the soccer ball inside the car through the broken window.

Around her, everything became noisy. The soccer players all moved back to the field, and Zeda noticed five of them already grabbing their backpacks to leave.

Most of the girls were recording live videos of the car, and even the hockey and football players had left their games and gathered around.

The look on everyone's face as they glanced from her to the car told her she had committed a serious mistake.

Strangely, it was the same look she'd gotten from the crew members when she had pushed Vyr and threatened him.

At that moment, she knew it wasn't just about the car; of course, she couldn't afford to replace the window. It was way out of her league, a car mostly owned by celebrities, just like Lucian's Maybach and Adrian's Aston Martin.

It was about who owned the car.

"He's coming, crap!"

"Here he comes."

"Oh my goodness, what's he going to do to the poor girl?"

Zeda heard the whispers grow louder around her and watched the crowd of hockey and football players part as a towering guy strode forward.

About five guys followed behind him, all wearing basketball jerseys and sweating.

"What the hell!" the guy growled, an animalistic sound that seemed to shake the air.

Zeda swallowed hard and took two steps back. She noticed others, even his friends, shrinking away.

No one said a word. The guy glared at the group of soccer players still hanging around.

"Who did this to my car?" he asked, taking a step toward them. Most of them took steps backward.

"You should ask the bitch over there," the vampire said, pointing at her. He looked the calmest, but even Zeda noticed he was tense.

The guy turned and looked Zeda over, scoffed, and then suddenly he was holding the vampire's throat.

Zeda gasped. His movement had been a blur; she hadn't seen him move.

She noticed that vampires among the hockey, football, soccer, and another group of basketball players moved forward to break them apart, but at the same time, another group of guys from each sport blocked them.

Vampires versus... which group?

Zeda wondered.

The guy who had made the crude gesture to her rushed forward. "Alpha, stop! He's right!"

"What?"

"He's right, it's the girl that damaged your car," he said, nodding toward her.

He explained everything to the towering guy, who let go of the vampire and turned a threatening glare on her.

It hit her then. For this guy to be called "Alpha," it meant he was Torvin Greywood, the werewolf prince.

Her eyes widened. And she had just damaged his car. Crap.

Torvin stalked towards Zeda, his eyes fixed on her. Around her, everyone held their breath.

He towered over her when he got close, her nostrils taking in the creamy sandalwood scent mixed with a hint of masculine sweat that came from him.

She looked up, her eyes locking on his gorgeous face framed by brown, wavy hair.

To say he was handsome was a huge understatement. He looked like a Greek god, with thick brows over golden eyes that seemed to burn as they glared down at her.

"I heard you damaged my car. Is that correct?" he asked, his voice deep and rough.

Zeda swallowed and managed to nod.

"You don't look dumb to me," he spat, his frown deepening.

"You can't understand a simple nod? I did," Zeda replied, more harshly than she intended.

Around them, people gasped at her words, and Zeda noticed they were still being recorded.

Torvin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you lack respect too? Even after damaging my car?"

"I'm so...rry." She stammered.

"Oh, wow, the glass has been fixed because she's sorry," Torvin mocked loudly for everyone to hear, gesturing at the car.

Everyone laughed at his joke, and Zeda reddened, embarrassed.

"Look, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to kick the ball away from those jerks," Zeda explained, glancing at the soccer players who made silly gestures at her. "They hit me with it, and I fell down and even bruised my knee."

Zeda showed Torvin the bruise on her knee, but when she looked back at him, he was staring at her thighs instead.

Were all werewolves perverts?

She glared at Torvin, who shrugged. "I don't care about what they did to you. I only care about what you did to my car," then he added with a wolfish grin, "Nice legs, by the way."

Zeda wanted to kick him. "But that's what led to your car being damaged."

Another shrug. "It was still you that kicked the ball."

Zeda got angry. "So what now? I should kill myself because I broke some car window?"

"Some car? That's a Porsche 911 Carrera. Do you know how much it costs? I bet you haven't and wouldn't see enough money to even fix that window in your lifetime," Torvin ranted, anger flaring in his eyes. Everyone laughed at her.

"What?" Zeda gasped.

"Am I wrong?" he taunted, a challenging smile on his face.

Zeda looked at the car again and couldn't speak. He was right, there was no way on earth she will be able to afford it.

Torvin scoffed. "I thought as much."

Zeda sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Pay me for the damage, of course," he said easily.

"How much?" Zeda asked. "I'll need some time to get the money ready."

"Don't bother with that. I don't have time to wait for you to come up with money you can't make," Torvin replied. "You'll pay on my terms."

Zeda frowned. Pay on his terms? What did that mean?

Torvin cut her off before she could say a word. "Put your number here, and don't even think about giving me a fake number. I'm a prince here; I'll hunt you until I find you, and trust me, the stress will make things worse for you," he threatened, handing her his phone.

She ignored his threat and typed in her contact digits before giving it back.

He stared at it, then nodded and started to leave.

"Wait," Zeda called. "What are your terms?"

Torvin flashed her a wolfish grin over his shoulder. "You'll see."