SoulkillerBane.

"No One Ever Calls Me Micajah."

When I was a kid, I'd once teased Nora relentlessly, when she'd blushed like a tomato at Tim Call's blinding, toothpaste-advertisement-model-like smile, saying that she was crushing on a boy, who was apparently gross at that time. After that, even if she wasn't mad at me, she had refused to meet my eyes for three hours, always averting her gaze and acting all self-conscious.

That is exactly what's happening right now.

Seneca is not mad at me or anything, but I can almost feel her embarrassment whenever our eyes meet, and I so badly want to tell her that 'It's okay, I'm the same as you,' but whenever I make an effort to do so, she makes an escape, leaving me frustrated.

After her grand exit of storming out, my laughter and happiness at her embarrassment had slowly died away, leaving behind a territorial and angry Wolf, who'd wanted—still wants—to smash his fist into Beta Ezra's face. But I'd controlled him with Herculean effort, and had quelled the urge to beat Beta Ezra by trying my damnest to beat him at training. I'd gotten a sparse three punches, but otherwise, Beta Ezra's defense and offense guard is impossible to penetrate, and it just gives me more fire to fight against him.

After the two hour mark, at 7:00 am, we'd decided to wrap it up and that's when Beta Ezra had left his pride on the floor to come forward and apologize.

"I did that to make you angry and that was the only reason behind it, you know that, right? 'Coz, I definitely don't see Seneca that way, and—Eugh! She's like my sister, man!" He'd had the gall to look repulsed by the idea.

"So, you go around kissing sisters?" I'd asked, raising a brow haughtily.

"C'mon, Aleph! You do know that if I hadn't done that, you would be still stuttering to me and refusing to throw a decent punch!" He'd exclaimed defensively, glaring down his blue eyes.

That'd made me hesitate and with a jerk, I'd realized that I hadn't once stuttered during the rest of training. I'd felt so proud of my self and despite the lingering anger, my chest had expanded with inexplicable gratitude, for helping me do what I couldn't do in the 18 years of my life.

Yes, I'm eighteen. Long story.

I'd paused and nodded at him, showing him my thankfulness. "You're right. I'm thankful, but my Wolf is still on the edge. Please don't push it too much."

He'd smiled so bright, for a second I'd been completely stupefied. Is this the same person I met five days ago? I'd thought and bade him a goodbye, retreating to my room.

Two days later, On the breakfast table on Monday morning, Seneca is absent and yet to speak a full sentence to me.

Finally, when I'm about to finish my omelets, Beta Ezra comes in, dragging a disgruntled Seneca by the arm.

Wow. At my first glimpse of her, a wave of strong lust hits me, shocking me and gravitating me towards my Mate at the same time. The plain white t-shirt and the fitting skinny jeans clinging to her shapely legs like a second skin, do her no justice and the scarlet hair springing around her face in shiny little curls, takes away the completely icy look, giving her the impression of a sexy little firecracker.

She must've felt my burning eyes scanning every inch of her because the next second her eyes flutter up beneath mile-long lashes the color of gold, meeting mine with just as ferocity. Her pupils darken and dilate the tiniest of a fraction, making me take in a sharp breath.

When he sees me sitting, he drops his grip, and comes forward, pulling a chair back for Seneca.

"Please sit, Alpha." He gives her a cheeky grin and a wink. Seneca pulls her eyes away and responds with a glare.

"Okay then. I guess I'll have to do it."

"What?" Seneca asks, pulling a hair-tie from her wrist and gathering her glossy curls in a high ponytail. Now she's the untouchable Alpha with a 'Touch me and you die' attitude.

Beta Ezra grins lasciviously at her and turns to me with his signature secretive smirk. "Did you know Aleph boy? Our Alpha here has an obsession with fa—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Seneca has leaped out of nowhere and slammed a hand on his mouth, covering it. Beta Ezra tries saying something despite Seneca's efforts to stop him, but the hand on his mouth makes the sound muffled and I can't understand anything except a series of 'Umfs'.

"Ezra Anthony Harland, If you dare finish that sentence, you will be put in charge of training the pups for a month." This threat stops him immediately, and the hand he'd been using to tug off Seneca's iron grip falls to his side.

Seneca examines his face carefully, then slowly removes her hand from his mouth. She then goes to the wash-basin, rinsing her hand thoroughly with soap, muttering something about the germs in the Beta's mouth. I chortle at that, drawing her attention back to me. She nods slightly in greeting, and hastily looks away, walking around the table to take her seat.

Beta Ezra glances at the seat beside her—his usual one—then slowly pulls it back, waiting for Seneca's reaction. When she says nothing, he looks relieved and sits on the tip of the seat precariously, as if waiting for Seneca to get up and reprimand him for sitting there.

After five minutes into the meal, Awkwardness hangs thick in the air, none of us willing to make mindless conversation and fill the void of silence. Finally, Beta Ezra—who looks like he could burst any second—gives up, cracking the silence.

"Are you still mad at me, Alpha?"

Seneca gives him a sidelong glance and then returns to chewing her breakfast in silence.

"Oh puhlease!" He sighs over-dramatically. "Even Aleph here has forgiven me. Haven't you, Aleph?" He asks me, raising his eyebrows pointedly. I contemplate whether to tell on him for a second, but I decide against it.

"Yeah," I acquiesce, nodding through a bite.

Seneca glances at me dubiously, her liquid silver eyes roaming over my face with precision. She turns to Beta Ezra and looks at him silently, still chewing. Beta Ezra is vibrating with such anticipation, I guess that the suspense music, "Dun, dun, dudunn!" is playing in his mind.

"I'll think about it," She says finally, making him blow out air in a dramatic fashion.

A unique pair of friends they are.

I smile to myself.

⎈ ⎈ ⎈

"Micajah Rye and Nicole Machiavelli." Mr. White reads out, and I force the uncomfortable feeling down my throat, turning around to find her. He continues down the list of names partnered up for the History Project, but I tune him out, dreading my meeting with this girl—who's apparently my new partner till the end of the year.

My eyes fall on a black-haired girl, two rows behind me, who has blushing cheeks and wide, innocent hazel-gold eyes to complement her mocha complexion. She offers me a timid smile, to which I respond with one of my own. Looking at her, the dragonflies that were fluttering nervously in the pit of my stomach disappear, because I just have a feeling that she's a person who won't get me into any trouble.

I pat the empty seat beside me, and her grin becomes more confident as she gathers her Bookbag and ambles down the aisle. She sweeps her hair over her shoulder in a shy gesture, and sits herself on the metal chair, pulling it in slowly to avoid the loud 'creak' it would cause otherwise.

Guess she knows the Etiquette of a nerd...

"Hello," I chirp, grinning in a friendly manner.

"Good afternoon, Aleph." She greets, taking me by surprise.

I didn't know that she is a member of Seneca's Pack...

'We don't know anyone in the Pack except our Mate, the Beta, and the maid.' My Wolf remarks snidely. Why is he throwing a pissy fit all of a sudden?

'What's gotten into you?' I ask, and look into his thoughts, trying to find the reason. But all I find is a stubborn wall of block, preventing me from reading his mind. I give up, and come back to the present, deciding to deal with later.

"Call me Micajah," I smile, extending my hand.

She looks at it strangely and then looks up to meet my eyes, her hazel irises swimming in confusion.

"B-but Aleph—"

"It'll be a secret. No one ever calls me Micajah. I'm starting to think I'll forget my own name. Help me out here?" I look at her pleadingly.

She's conflicted for a second, and I urge her with encouraging eyes. She finally gives up and gives in, nodding back, making wisps of hair fall on her face. She blows out exasperatedly and shoves them back with a firm push, tucking them behind her ears. I chuckle at the funny look on her face, but a growl from my Wolf reminds me that he's missing Seneca already, and wants me to go to her.

'When will you stop aching for her in every 5 seconds?' I exclaim at my Wolf, wanting to throw my hands up in the air.

'When we Mate with her,' He replies shamelessly, and I almost blush at the implication.

Oh.

"You know my name, and I know yours. So, shall we get started, Ale—I mean, Micajah?" The question pulls me back from my reverie and I nod, happy that she cut to the chase, avoiding all the pointless chit-chat.

"Yeah. So Mahatma Gandhi was one of the only freedom fighters who followed the method of Ahimsa . . ."

Thirty minutes later, we have sketched out an outline of the basic design of how our First assignment is going to be. The bell rings and we pack up our bags, getting ready to leave.

"Um, So you'll be there by six?" I ask, shouldering my weightless bag.

"Uh, Are you sure? 'Cause no one except Beta Ezra goes to The Mansion." Nicole says uncertainly, fidgeting with the straps of her sling bag.

"Oh. Then we'll just stay in the living room. I'm sure Seneca won't mind." I reply, shrugging. Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline when I refer to my Mate as 'Seneca', probably never having heard anyone say it out loud. She presses her lips together in worry, but nods.

"Alright. See you tonight then."

"See you." I wave, walking out of the classroom with a small, happy grin.

Soon, I get lost in the sea of students, and I let myself be dragged by the tide without thinking, as all of them are moving toward the exit at the end of the day. I think I see Nora's face peek at me from the crowd, but then it disappears, and I ignore it.

She can do whatever she wants. It wasn't that big of a mistake anyway.

I feel an old voice whispering in the back of my mind that I should apologize to her, but I push it down, stamping on it to prevent it from rising again.

Once I reach the parking lot, the crowd thins as people move to their own respective vehicles, and I spot Seneca leaning on her shiny black Audi R8, arms crossed in the posture I've become familiar with, and eyes shielded from the world with a pair of reflective Aviators.

Beta Ezra is half sitting, half leaning on the hood of his blue GT-R, his concentration fixed on the tablet-sized mobile phone in his hand. In a few feet distance, the pink convertible of Emerald Richmond stands proudly, and a group of she-devils—including the Mistress of Satan herself—stand, sneaking peeks at the handsome Beta with periodic giggles.

When she sees me coming, she straightens up from her slightly slouched position, standing erect. Just as I come within a few feet radius of them, Beta Ezra's phone rings, making him jerk and almost let it crash to the ground. He catches it just in time, bringing it to his ear to answer the call. I laugh lowly and turn to Seneca, who's shaking her head in amusement. She gives me a half-smile and makes a move to open the door to her side of the car, but in a moment of sudden boldness, I reach out and grab her hand, stopping her.

She turns to me in surprise, glancing at out entwined fingers and then back up at me.

"Um, Seneca," Her eyes darken and lips part when I test out her name in my tongue, "I w-wanted to ask if—"

"Alpha!" Beta Ezra interrupts, his voice high with panic. "David called. It's him."

Seneca's eyes light up in fury and she withdraws her fingers from mine, making my Wolf whine in sadness.

"Take Micajah home. Keep him safe. I'll be back." Seneca says, turning to leave when Beta Ezra stops her.

"Alpha! I won't let you go alone!"

"Keep Cage safe." With a parting nod, Seneca gets into her car, slamming the door loudly. She revs the roaring engine and screeches out of the parking lot, with students jumping out of the way in terror.

What. The. Heck?

⎈ ⎈ ⎈

Thank you soooooo much for reading my dear Cagers!!!!