Rosie POV
Fury boiled within me as the class results were announced today. How could a newcomer top the charts in the CA test we took last week? Did he bribe the teachers? Even if he did, what kind of bribe could surpass mine? I should be the number one in this school, no one else.
Lost in my thoughts about the infuriating results, Jude taps me from behind.
"What are you thinking, baby?" he asks.
"I'm thinking about what that brat displayed in class today. I'm figuring out a way to deal with him. How can he score more than me and insult me in front of the class?" I vent.
"Should I help you out?" he offers.
"No, don't bother. I will deal with him myself," I assert, determined to settle the score on my own terms.
As we discuss, I notice my driver approaching. I turn to Jude, saying, "I think I have to go now. We'll talk later. Tomorrow, my driver is here." I hug him and leave.
After a long drive home, we arrived, and I'm still seething about the events at school today. Entering the house, anger still boiling within me, I head to my room, oblivious to my father sitting in the living room.
"My baby girl, what's bothering you that you didn't even notice I'm sitting here?" my father asks.
I turn to see him and exclaim, "Dad, you're back from your trip! You didn't tell me you'd be back today. I'm sorry; I didn't know you were inside. I was just angry about something."
"What's bothering my beautiful girl? Who's making my beautiful girl angry? Tell me what the problem is, let me help you out," says my father.
"It's not you, Daddy. It's one of my classmates that makes me angry. So, Daddy, what did you bring for me from your trip?" I inquire, trying to shift the conversation.
" Nothing," he replies, concern etched on his face.
Disappointed with his initial answer, my father notices and quickly adds that he brought some cake for me, stashed in the refrigerator. I hug him with gladness, momentarily forgetting the day's frustrations.
During our lengthy conversation, my dad drops a bombshell. already spoken to someone, and if I pass my Year Three exams, he'll process my visa for me to complete the rest of my studies in the United Kingdom.
Happiness washes over me at the prospect of studying abroad, but the memory of today's school events lingers, casting a shadow on an otherwise joyous moment.
Later that night, after dinner, I'm in my room when I notice someone knocking at my window. I walk toward it and see Jude, not wearing any clothes; he's half-naked.
"What happened, Jude? What are you doing here?" I ask, refraining from questioning why he's half-naked because I know he has transformed.
I open the window for him and provide him with clothes to cover his body, waiting for an explanation.
"I was in the woods with my pack, trying to take and bury the dead body of my pack member killed yesterday when we were attacked by the same werewolf hunters. We didn't know it was a trap. Luckily, we escaped, but I noticed they are not after my pack; they are after me. I had nowhere else to think of hiding than here," he explains.
"But I think I told you to stay low-key for a while; there are new werewolf hunters in town," I reminded him.
"I am sorry; I should have listened to you," he admits, regret evident in his tone. The weight of the situation hangs in the air as we grapple with the reality of the danger that has now entered our lives.
Jude winced as I carefully tended to his wound, extracting the silver blade lodged in his back. His groans echoed in the room, each touch causing him visible pain. The air was thick with tension as I worked to cleanse and dress the wound, his discomfort palpable in the way he gritted his teeth.
Despite the pain, Jude's trust in me was unwavering. I could see it in his eyes – a mix of agony and gratitude. As the silver blade was removed, a momentary flash of vulnerability crossed his face, a reminder of the harsh reality we faced in a world where even the act of healing carried its own form of pain.
After treating him, a knock on our home door prompts me to tell Jude to wait while I check. To my dismay, I find my dad talking to some guys who, judging by their looks, are werewolf hunters. What on earth are they doing here?
"Sir, you're not safe. We noticed some werewolves entering this building. If you don't mind, can we search your house for your safety?" one of them asks my dad.
"Sure, go ahead," my dad complies.
I ran inside and told Jude, "You have to go now."
"Why?" he asks.
"Some werewolf hunters are here. You have to leave. I'll take care of the rest," I insist.
He waits for a moment before reluctantly leaving
I watch Jude leave, quickly guiding him through the safest route to exit the house. His movements are swift and almost unnatural. I've known Jude is a werewolf since my first year.
As I stand there, my mind races, but then I remember the mess in my room – the aftermath of treating Jude's wound. The gravity of the situation sinks in, and a sense of urgency fills the room. There's no time to waste as I confront the chaos left behind, wondering how much of our world is unraveling at this very moment.
As Jude reluctantly left, I busied myself, packing away the instruments I used to treat him and cleaning the room of the bloodstains. The air hung heavy with uncertainty, and the only sound was the hushed rustle of my movements.
Suddenly, I noticed footsteps approaching my room. My heart quickened, each step reverberating through the silence like an ominous drumbeat. The flickering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with an eerie rhythm, amplifying the tension in the air.
I glanced around, searching for a place to hide or an escape route, but my room offered no sanctuary. The realization sank in – whoever approached was getting closer, and I had no choice but to confront the impending threat.
The doorknob turned slowly, creaking as the door opened, revealing a figure cloaked in darkness. A shiver ran down my spine as I strained to see who it was, but their identity remained concealed.
As the door swung open fully, the figure stepped into the room, their face still obscured by shadows. A chilling silence settled between us, broken only by the distant howls of the night.