Axel's POV

"Dammit," I cursed under my breath as Oliver slipped away into a classroom.

He totally misunderstood! I didn't mean for that bitch to kiss me. She just threw herself at me! 

I mean, I didn't really mind at first, but then the growing dissatisfaction from the wolf spirit inside me reminded me that Oliver was in the cafeteria, watching.

But before I could even do anything about it, that other chick came and started throwing a fuss.

And then I got annoyed. Who the hell was this chick? So I slept with her once, she knew that we weren't dating. 

I mean, sure, I usually wouldn't mind hooking up or that kind of thing. If she wanted me to buy her McDonalds before we fucked, yeah, sure, I'd take her out on a date or whatever. 

But I couldn't just let some random hookups ruin my chances with Oliver!

Oliver, though, made it clear that what we had wasn't much. 

Not only did he walk away from me, he slammed the door right in my face as he walked out.

It wouldn't bother me as much if he was throwing a fit because he was jealous because of the girls on me. 

But no, he turned around, annoyed and clueless, and the look of disgust he gave me made me feel... kinda shitty.

And pissed off. It wasn't like I meant to kiss that human whore, but he should be jealous! Why the hell did he look so grossed out? 

I wouldn't mind anger, but the disregard...

Why did he look like he didn't care about me? Who did he think he was? It pissed me off, and I hated that I felt small. He was the smaller one, by any standard!

Zoe and the other wolfs in my pack caught up to me in the hallway. 

Luca gave me a sympathetic clap on the shoulder as he passed by, but I continued to scowl at the ground.

That morning, when I was chasing Oliver—again, why the hell does he make me run after him so much?! Is it too much to ask for a civilized conversation, for fuck's sake? And maybe some making out, if I'm lucky—I happened to conveniently push him into some of my packmates in the hallway.

I was gonna snap at him for ignoring me, but Van intruded.

Axel, don't interrupt, his voice was calm but decisive, and I complied before I even realized I had, pausing behind Oliver. 

I scowled, turning to look at Van. 

Why was he watching us from down the hall, hiding in a crook between two sets of lockers?! There was no reason for him to act like one of my creepy admirers. 

I opened my mouth, about to call him over, but Van scowled back at me and shut me up with a snap.

I just told Ella to introduce him to everyone she's with, so don't interrupt.

Why?! I clenched my jaw. Oliver was right in front of me, and I wasn't allowed to even talk to him?! Was he not my mate?!

This is probably the most natural way to introduce him to a large part of the pack, Van explained. If you want him to become yours, he's going to have to get involved in our world. It's best if we can do that slowly and naturally, so he doesn't get overwhelmed.

I was quiet. Van had a good point. To a human, the supernatural world was... well, otherworldly. Van was right about easing him in.

Also, I'm kind of curious how he's gonna behave, Van mused. I looked over, sending him a questioning glance, but he was watching Oliver closely with his enhanced senses, already deep in thought. 

Van was weird, but he was a genius, so I didn't question him further. I turned back to watch Oliver as he helped Roman up and chatted with Ella.

Ella and all say they'll try to get close to him, Van let me know. 

He was one of few people able I knew that were able to hold multiple and distinct telepathic conversations with others, and still maintain full control over all the information flooding through to him. 

It took a lot of mental control, willpower, and stability, and I wasn't the best at it. Even using the pack link was hard enough for most werewolves, and it wasn't unusual if people couldn't do it at all. 

Of course I could, as I was the future Alpha, but even I knew it was hard to keep control. Van didn't struggle with that, though.

Luca and Ella are gonna look for opportunities, Van relayed to me. Zoe says you should just suck it up and ask him out without being a wuss, though. His amusement was obvious. I rolled my eyes. But they all agreed to help out in setting you two up.

I sent him an appreciative nod to where he was still watching us like a stalker.

Hearing Mila and Zoe's laughter, I turned back to watch Oliver from behind. He continued to chat with my packmates, and I missed Luca's joke, but I watched Oliver's shoulders shake with laughter.

I knew Oliver was only talking to them because the alternative was talking to me, but there was something weird in my chest.

The wolf instincts in me rumbled with an odd sense of satisfaction. 

Even though it felt demeaning to just stand behind him and watch, being ignored by Oliver, I couldn't help but feel an unfamiliar sense of pride. 

It was weird, because it wasn't like I had done anything. But simultaneously, I was proud of m—us. 

My packmates reeked of excitement, happiness, and enthusiasm. They were all clearly pleased with Oliver, and Oliver got along with them splendidly. It made me hesitate to interrupt them.

The pleased scents caught me off guard. It was weird. 

Usually, I had to intrude when they met with someone I was dating. That, or it ended with tears and fists. 

Roman's tongue was loose, and Minerva was petty. Luca had a bad habit of egging people on, and so I always had to settle things with the girl—with my credit card. 

But Oliver got along with them just fine. He laughed and joked with them so naturally, it was like he was there from the start.

He's quite good at that, isn't he? Van noted, amused, when whatever he said made Mia let out a gentle scent of pleasure. He was good at making others feel good. You should take some notes.

I frowned. 

Because as nice as he was to everyone, he wasn't nice to me.

Was he secretly jealous? I hoped so, but even when I was being kissed in front of him, he looked mildly apathetic. As if I had nothing to do with him.

It bothered me. When I voiced this to Van, he seemed a bit intrigued as well.

Oliver and I were connected by fate. I wasn't happy about it, but it I couldn't deny it. Even if he was human, how could Oliver?

Thankfully, I had chemistry with him, so I decided to put my moves on him then.

As the bell for the last period rang, I dashed to class as soon as possible, shoving through the kids leaving the class, hoping to talk to Oliver as long as I could before class started.

And of course, he came in at the last possible moment.

Even worse, he was smiling and laughing with that damned human—Andrew!

I scowled. Why the hell was he acting like a slut, flirting with every human boy out there? He was already spoken for! He was mine!

Oliver made eye contact with me, paused, and then very intentionally walked away to the other edge of class, taking a seat by the wall.

I scowled. I had threatened the kid sitting in this spot—the one right beside Oliver's regular seat—and of course, he was a piece of shit that couldn't ever make things easy for me.

Even though class was already starting, I picked up my stuff and got up, storming over to pointedly sit by him.

Oliver put his bag on the chair beside him.

He grinned up at me apologetically. "Sorry, this seat's taken," he said, even though it obviously wasn't.

I glowered, picked his bag up, sat down on the chair, and put his bag on my lap.

Oliver watched me with mild disbelief, but the teacher began class. As Oliver began copying down notes, I stared down at his backpack on my lap.

It was a backpack.

Black, with a bunch of button pins on it. Most were pretty generic with a few bad puns.

'Riots not diets.' '"That's what" -She'. 'Damn right I'm good in bed. I can sleep for ages'.

But the one that caught my attention was a rainbow with the words 'Love is Love' atop it. And another with his pronouns.

I stared at the 'Love is Love' pin.

It wasn't anything extraordinary. And it wasn't a declaration of anything—I knew you could be an ally without being gay. Like me, for one. I never considered myself gay, but here I was with a male mate.

I gnawed on my lip. Oliver may be my mate, but he was a guy. But I was still into girls! I liked the soft, submissive, sweet smell of femininity. I liked gripping curvy waists, watching thick, plump asscheeks bounce on my lap.

The sudden image of Oliver bouncing his ass on my lap made me shake my head rapidly, feeling heated under the collar. I pulled it away, swallowing hard. What was I thinking?!

Oliver glanced over and gave me a dry, baffled look, but I put my head down on the desk. 

The smell of Oliver beside me, his backpack on my lap, the quiet noise of his pen moving across paper—I was hyper-conscious of him. And his ass.

I quickly linked Van in distress. Van, I'm not gay if I think a—uh—a guy has a cute butt, right??

I could practically see him rolling his eyes. 

What did I say about linking me during class?! You're lucky I don't have a test right now. And no, it doesn't make you gay if you appreciate a guy's behind. Why are you thinking of Oliver's ass, aren't you in chemistry?

. . . I didn't have any real defense.

Pay attention to your class, he chastised, amused. But I don't blame you. He does have a nice behind.

I scowled. Hands off.

Right, right. Again, he was rolling his eyes. Is that all?

He's got a 'love is love' button on his backpack, I filled Van in. And some nerdy shit, I don't know.

Van sighed. Axel, you're so useless. Pay attention to the 'nerdy shit' and look it up tonight. Finding out his likes is a basic step to getting to know someone, you know.

I huffed. I never had to do any of this shit to get someone. All I had to do was smirk, flex my arms, get in close and whisper something naughty—that shit came to me naturally. 

'Finding out someone's likes'? 'Getting to know him'? What a pain in the ass. Physical attraction was a lot easier, a lot quicker.

I was going to ask him to come over to my house for the chem project. Then I'll put some moves on him, I informed Van.

Right, have fun with that. Tell me how it goes. Shit, we've got a pop quiz?! Distracted, Van cut the connection between us. 

I leaned back into my chair, arms crossed over my chest, legs spread before me, stretching my neck in a way that made it look hot. I knew how to look good, even in shitty lighting like this. 

Subtly glancing at Oliver out of the corner of my eye as the teacher babbled away, I stretched my arms out, making sure they were flexed.

However it wasn't as secretive as I thought it was because a couple moments later Oliver turned, looked me dead in the eye and told me not to stare because I was acting kind of creepy.

Creepy.

My mate just called me creepy.

Nobody called me creepy. Nobody had called me creepy before. Why was I creepy?! What the hell?! 

All I was doing was displaying my hot body and maybe peeking over a little! What the hell was creepy about that?! He should be flattered!

I sat there, wounded as the teacher finished the lesson. After reaffirming with my pack members that I wasn't creepy, I turned back to Oliver.

"Why am I creepy?" I demanded. "How? I'm not creepy."

Oliver raised an eyebrow before hiding a snicker. "Listen, so our project is due in a few weeks, but we should get our topic approved as soon as possible, we're already kind of behind."

I stared. Did he just ignore me?

"I looked at the example list of topics he gave us, and I wrote up some of my own. We can finish the outline and get it approved today if we hurry, so let's get that done." He leaned over to grab the backpack.

Instead of taking the whole thing off my lap, he just leaned over and grabbed the zipper to open it, which was on the opposite side than the one facing him.

As he leaned over me, I gripped the chair so hard my fingers left indents in the metal.

He was teasing me! There was no way this wasn't suggestive. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt, and it rode up his arm as he reached out. I stared at his skin.

It was so pale, milky and creamy, and looked so soft. I had to bite my lips to keep my fangs from growing. 

I wanted to bite him, mark that perfect skin with my teeth so that everybody would know he was taken. Because he was—he belonged to me. 

His neck was just under my line of sight, and I knew my eyes must have been glowing—my wolf instincts were becoming overbearing, and it took me nearly snapping my seat in half to restrain the urges I usually could suppress.

Shit. I had never let myself properly scent him, and never from so close to his damn neck. 

I couldn't resist, and with his scent gland right in front of me, I was inhaling like I was hyperventilating.

Fuck, his scent was good.

I'd never smelt anything like it. It was fully untainted of the ashy smell of anger or hatred, none of the tart sourness of a bitter person. It also wasn't sweet, none of that sugary innocence that everyone grew out of.

It was just purely him.

There was something so natural and nostalgic about it. It smelt like I couldn't get enough, like it was holding back on me—I wanted more.

And his neck was right in front of me. The shirt he was wearing slipped down his shoulder a little as he grabbed something from the bottom of his bag, exposing more of that perfect skin that I needed to see more of.

Why was he wearing a shirt? Why was he covering up what was mine? My claws elongated, twitching with the urge to rip the shirt right off his body, to see what was rightly mine. 

I could feel my fangs elongating, the need for blood, for Oliver's flesh—the flesh on his neck, his scent gland, where my mark belonged.

Mine. He was mine. He was my mate. Nothing else mattered—it didn't matter how we felt about each other. He was still mine.

I could mark him. 

I should mark him. Right here, right now, so that everybody knows he belongs to me.

My lips parted, and I leaned forward.