Chapter 17

Author POV

It had been a month since Alpha Frank ceased coming to the school, ever since the incident that occurred between Clara and his bound mate, Laura.


His weaknesses had been haunting him, exacerbated by the strong feelings he harbored for Laura. The absence of his usual dominant presence was palpable, and the school felt like a different place without him.

A loud knock resonated on Frank's door, echoing through the hallway as the pack servants and other pack members gathered outside, their worries and concerns palpable. "Alpha Frank!" two slim, feminine cleaners called out in unison, knocking vehemently on the door but receiving no response.

One of them turned to the other and suggested, "Have you tried using a spare key to open the door? We need to check on him; something's not right."


The other cleaner nodded, producing a key from her pocket and inserting it into the lock. With a soft click, the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room and an Alpha who seemed to have given up on the world.

as she gently traced the bed for his figure, her hands trembling with concern. "Hey, be careful; he might be sleeping," another whispered in a worried tone, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room.

Frank's gaze was on high alert but fixed with weariness; his eyes were sunken and his face pale. His heart was bleeding from the rejection, and the pain of Laura's absence was still fresh and raw. He lay motionless, his chest barely rising with each labored breath, as if the weight of his own despair was crushing him.

A fierce and enhanced strength surged through him, like a wild animal straining to break free. He sighed slowly, his hands clenched into fists and pinned to the pillow as if restraining himself. His shoulder-length hair whipped around his neck, tossed by the breeze blowing in from outside.

Suddenly, he lunged at the first lady, his hands closing around her throat like a vice. She wore a plain black gown and a blue apron, her eyes wide with fear. "What the hell do you want?" he growled, his voice low and menacing, like the dim light in his room.

The lady struggled to speak; her voice was choked off by his grip. He relaxed his hold slightly, his eyes blazing with fierce intensity. "Answer me," he snarled, his patience wearing thin.

"Are you Laura? Are you bound to me?" He groaned in pain, his fingers trembling as he struggled to maintain his grip. But he felt the lady's weakness; her life force was ebbing away, and his anger surged. He flung her to the ground, his motion rough and violent.

The other workers stood frozen in fear, clutching their shelves as they watched the scene unfold. "You dumbass!" he snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. "Can't you see I'm trying to find my mate? Laura, where are you?"

His words were met with cowering silence, the workers too terrified to speak. He glared at them, his eyes flashing with anger and desperation. "Where is she?" he demanded again, his voice low and menacing.

As he glared at the workers, one of them finally summoned the courage to speak up. "P-please, Alpha Frank, we don't know where Laura is. We swear!"

Frank's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through the worker's trembling form. "You're hiding something," he growled, his voice dripping with menace. "I can smell it."

Just as Frank's frustration was about to boil over, a faint scent wafted through the air, making his heart race and his senses tingle. It was Laura's scent, and his eyes snapped towards the source—the door. He traced the scent further, his gaze fixed intently on the door.

Just then, Clara walked in, swinging her bag from side to side in a carefree manner. "Someone should turn on the lights; this isn't a nightclub," she said, her voice echoing through the room. Her eyes scanned the space, seemingly oblivious to the tension.

Frank's eyes never left the door; his mind was fixed on the scent and what it might mean. He took a step forward, his body tense with anticipation. "Clara, what do you know about Laura's aunt?" he asked, his voice low and even.

Clara's eyes flicked to his face, a hint of surprise registering before she smiled nonchalantly. "Laura's aunt? What are you talking about, Frank?" She asked, her tone innocent. But Frank's sharp eyes detected a flicker of guilt in her expression, and his heart began to race with a mix of trepidation.

"Get him some food to calm his nerves down," Clara said, her voice laced with concern. She walked towards Frank's bed, her steps deliberate, and slumped into it. With a swift gaze, she stared at him, trying to make sense of the strange attitude he had suddenly developed. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

But before Frank could respond, Clara's gaze darted to the servants, who were still standing in the room, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. "Get lost!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp and commanding. The servants quickly scurried out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Clara's expression softened as she turned her attention back to Frank. "Hey, what's going on? You're acting really strange," she said, her voice gentle. She reached out a hand to touch his arm, her eyes filled with concern.

But Frank's response was far from reassuring. "I want you to stay away from Laura," he threatened, his voice low and menacing. "If something happens to her, I will feed on your flesh without a second thought." He pulled the bed cover up to cover himself, his eyes gleaming with fierce intensity.

Clara's hand hesitated in mid-air, her eyes widening in shock at Frank's sudden threat. "Frank, what's gotten into you?" She asked, her voice laced with a mix of fear and confusion.

"You! You've gotten into me so deep that I've sworn to fight to my last breath to save Laura," Frank assured, his eyes blazing with determination.

"And I will do everything possible to have you," Clara's voice followed, her eyes locked on his with fierce intensity. "It's a bet!" they both said in unison.