Chapter 16

Laura pov

I almost sprang to my feet, hearing the venomous words from Clara. But I controlled myself, darting my eyes around the room with a pretense of nonchalance, as if her words didn't bother me. "Did you just call me a beggar?" I asked, my voice gentle, but my eyes betrayed my anger. I narrowed my brows, my stance tense, as I awaited her response.

Clara smirked, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Yes, I did," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're nothing but a poor, pathetic beggar, crawling at Frank's feet, hoping for scraps of his attention."

With a fragmented combination of looks, Clara mocked me. "No, I didn't say that to the coast princess," she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She continued, "I'm shivering right now, thinking that Laura is going to bite me with her sharp, piercing teeth."

Her words were laced with venom, and her eyes were gleaming with malice. I felt a surge of anger, but I kept my cool, my eyes fixed on hers. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I said, my voice low and even. "You're enjoying seeing me hurt."

Clara's smirk grew wider, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, I am," she admitted, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "You're so predictable, so weak. It's almost...boring.”

I felt a surge of anger at Clara's words, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me lose my temper. Instead, I smiled—a cold, calculated smile.

"You know, Clara," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're right. I am weak. I'm so weak that I'm still standing here, despite your best efforts to break me. I'm so weak that I'm still breathing, still living, and still loving. And that's something you'll never understand, because you're too busy tearing others down to build yourself up."

Clara's smirk faltered, her eyes flashing with anger. But I didn't stop there.

"You want to know what's really weak, Clara?" I continued. "It's you. You're the one who's so insecure, so afraid of being hurt, that you lash out at others to protect yourself. You're the one who's so alone, so unwanted, that you have to resort to mocking others to feel better about yourself."

The classroom fell silent; the tension was palpable. Clara's face was red with rage, her eyes blazing with fury. But I didn't back down. I stood my ground, my eyes locked on hers, my heart pounding with excitement.

"Go ahead, Clara," I said, my voice dripping with challenge. "Keep mocking me. Keep trying to break me. But you'll never succeed, because I'm stronger than you'll ever be."

I turned to the students, my eyes blazing with determination. With a sudden surge of energy, I climbed onto the desk, my movements swift and graceful, like a wolf claiming its territory. I stood firm, my feet planted wide apart, and dusted off my palm, brushing away the dirt that had stained it.

"Hello, beautiful ladies and gentlemen of Brainstorm Academy." My voice echoed through the room, my words dripping with confidence. I scanned the room, my eyes locking onto Valerie's shocked face. Her fist was clenched on the table, her arm straight as a rod, as if she were bracing herself for impact. A bookshelf nearby seemed to be her anchor, her lifeline in this chaotic scene.

"This wild werewolf here," I said, pointing accusingly at Clara, "attacked my aunt yesterday and bruised her brain with unspeakable torture." I explained, my voice laced with anger and hurt.

A loud gasp enveloped the room, as if the students were collectively holding their breath in shock. "OMG, I never knew Clara was so heartless!" one of the students exclaimed, blinking repeatedly in disbelief as they pinched themselves in disgust, their faces etched with hatred for Clara.

The room erupted into chaos, with students murmuring and whispering to each other, their eyes fixed on Clara with a mixture of fear and revulsion. Clara's face turned pale, her eyes wide with terror, as she realized she was surrounded by people who now saw her for the monster she truly was.

"You're a fool!" she sneered, rushing towards me with a sudden wave of transformation palming up on her. I noticed the rage on her face—red veins mixing with green stripes on her head. "I hate you!" she exclaimed, her claws sprawling out like sharp talons, trying to swipe at me like a vicious animal.

Her eyes blazed with fury, and her face contorted in a snarl as she lunged at me with a feral growl. I stood my ground, my heart pounding in my chest, as I prepared to defend myself against her attack. The air was electric with tension, and the students watched in horror as Clara's transformation into a werewolf became more complete.

I raised my hands, palms facing outward, in a calming gesture. "Clara, stop! Think about what you're doing!" I pleaded, trying to reason with her.

But she was beyond reason. Her eyes had turned a fierce yellow, and her pupils dilated with rage. She swiped at me again, her claws missing my face by mere inches.

I dove just in time, my heart racing with fear. I knew I had to act fast or risk becoming her next victim.

With a surge of adrenaline, I launched myself at her, grabbing her wrists and holding them in a tight grip. "Clara, snap out of it!" I shouted, trying to penetrate the fog of fury that had consumed her.

Slowly, her eyes began to clear, the yellow fading back to their natural brown. She looked at me with confusion and shame written across her face.

"What...what happened?" she stammered, her voice barely audible.

I released her wrists, my hands shaking with relief. "You lost control," I said gently. "But it's okay. You can work through this by controlling your silly self."

Clara nodded, but then her weight shifted, and she pushed me to the ground, her eyes blazing with anger. She spat on me, her saliva hitting my face like a curse. "I hate you!" she exclaimed, her voice venomous.