The morning passed like a gray, humming blur. Classes moved on, teachers lectured, students whispered—but Aarvin heard none of it. His mind replayed the same three seconds on repeat: Riyan's hand on his shoulder, his low, deadly warning to the hallway, *"If anyone touches him, I'll handle it,"* and the silence that followed. It didn't feel like protection—it felt like a spotlight, blinding and inescapable.
*The More You Fear, The More They Watch*
At lunch, Aarvin slid into his usual seat at the far end of the cafeteria, hiding behind a tray of untouched food. Disappearing was no longer an option. Eyes flicked toward him constantly—curiosity, envy, fear. Even across the room, he could hear fragments of whispers:
* "He's really Riyan's brother?"
* "Too soft to be dangerous."
* "But the Wolves… they're watching him too."
* "There's something off about him. He's not normal."
He shut his eyes, swallowing the scream that rose in his throat: *I don't want this.*
*The Wolves Make Their Move*
The cafeteria doors swung open. The Iron Wolves entered, the air shifting as if the room itself acknowledged their presence. Zane Lockhart walked first, scanning every table with the calm authority of a predator. His gaze landed on Aarvin, sharp and analytical. Aarvin's fingers clenched around his fork, bending it slightly. The Wolves didn't approach—yet. They were observing, calculating, trying to measure the boy Riyan protected so fiercely. Aarvin felt like prey under a microscope.
*Naomi's Intervention*
A shadow fell across his table. Naomi Lane stood there—calm, silent, unreadable. He straightened instinctively.
"Uh… hi," he muttered.
She didn't sit. Her eyes studied him, sharp and deliberate.
"You're not eating," she noted.
Aarvin glanced at his untouched tray. "I… I'm not hungry."
Naomi hummed, thoughtful. "You should. Oakridge drains you faster than you realize."
Before he could respond, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him:
"Don't let their version of you become your version of you."
He froze. How did she know? Naomi leaned just enough for him to hear:
"This school worships power and fears weakness. Both are illusions. People here only understand noise."
"What should I do?" he whispered.
Naomi's eyes bored into his, peeling away the layers he tried to hide.
"First," she said softly, "stop acting like your brother's shadow."
Aarvin stiffened. Her voice softened further:
"You're not Riyan, Aarvin. You're not a threat. Let them learn who you really are."
He swallowed hard. "Do you think they'll—"
"No. But you still have to try."
She turned and walked away as quietly as she had come.
*The Wolves' Verdict*
Across the room, Zane Lockhart watched the exchange with calculated interest, unreadable as ever. He murmured to his closest Wolf:
"That boy… he's more complicated than he looks."
"Should we leave him alone or keep watching?"
"Observe. Anyone Riyan protects that fiercely… isn't ordinary."
*Trouble Finds You Anyway*
As lunch ended, Aarvin hurried to pack his things. A metallic clang made him flinch—a tray slammed onto his table. Three boys, regular students emboldened by rumors, blocked his path.
"So… you're the Hale kid," one said, smirking.
"I—I don't want trouble," Aarvin stammered, heart hammering.
"Trouble doesn't care what you want," the first boy said.
Another added, "We just wanna see… why Riyan's so protective."
Aarvin's stomach sank. *Not today. Not again.*
Before they could step closer, a hand landed on his chair—strong, controlled, undeniably dangerous. It wasn't Riyan. It was Adrien Hale, Riyan's cousin. Calm, cold, and precise, someone even the Wolves regarded with caution.
"Back away," Adrien said quietly, lethal in tone.
The boys froze. "W-we weren't doing anything—"
Adrien stepped forward. They bolted.
Aarvin looked up, shocked. "Why… why did you step in?"
Adrien studied him a long moment, expression unreadable. "Because Riyan isn't the only one who cares what happens to you."
For the first time that day, Aarvin didn't feel completely alone.
*To be continued…*