Chapter 69: The Apex Predator

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: The Apex Predator

Jason swung his fist.The punch came without warning, it was powerful and fast enough that the air seemed to split around his fist. There was enough strength behind it to shatter a human jaw, and judging by the fury twisting his features, Jason had every intention of doing exactly that.

Alexander did not flinch one bit. He did not even remove his left hand resting casually inside his trouser pocket. He did not even bother to raise the other one to block.

He simply tilted his head a fraction of an inch. Jason’s fist whistled past his cheek, missing by a hair.

Then Alexander moved. Iris barely saw it, it happened in a blur. One moment Jason was leaning in, the next, Alexander’s hand flashed across the space between them with such impossible speed that her eyes struggled to follow it.

CRACK!

The slap exploded through the hallway. It was not the sound of an ordinary slap. It sounded like a gunshot fired inside a confined space, reverberating through the corridor and making Iris, Finn and Shawn standing at the far end of the hall flinch.

Jason’s entire body left the ground. He was thrown sideways with such violent force, as if he’d been struck by a speeding car that Iris instinctively recoiled. His shoulder struck the wall first, followed by his back and head, and the impact sent a deep BOOM through the building.

One of the framed photographs hanging on the wall dropped crookedly, and a spiderweb of cracks spread outward from the point of impact. Dust drifted from the ceiling.

Jason collapsed heavily onto the floor, his head snapping sideways. For several seconds, there was no movement from him. He layed still, a thin trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth—blood that, strangely, wasn’t clothing or healing at all.

The hallway fell into a deafening silence. Iris stared at the scene. Her lips parted, but no sound came.

Alexander stood exactly where he had been. His right hand had already returned to his side, his expression as calm as if he had simply brushed a speck of dust off his sleeve.

He looked down at the cuff of his shirt and calmly adjusted it, smoothing the fabric with two precise movements as though the only thing that had happened was an inconvenience to his clothing.

"It seems your elders failed to teach you basic manners," Alexander remarked.

The sheer calmness in his voice made Iris’s stomach twist. Iris stared at him, her voice trembling. "Alexander..."

Jason groaned, pushing himself off the floor. He wiped the blood leaking from his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at the red smear across his fingers. Humiliation burned in his eyes, quickly replaced by a blinding, feral rage.

Iris stepped forward, her hands shaking. "Alexander, please. I don’t want a scene."

Alexander’s gaze returned to her. His jaw flexed, and for a moment, the predator in his eyes softened. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He studied her face for several seconds before giving a small nod.

"All right." He turned his attention back to her. "Let’s go then. You said you’d meet me outside, but considering these... unforeseen circumstances, I think it’s safer if we leave together."

Jason’s head snapped toward them. "She’s not fucking going anywhere with you!"

As Jason spoke, his voice changed. It was no longer human. A guttural, rattling sound emerged from his throat.

"Jason?" Finn took one uncertain step backward. "Jason, don’t."

He lifted his head, and Iris gasped.

His eyes were no longer brown. They were glowing—a brilliant, incandescent gold that illuminated the dim hall. His breathing became a series of jagged snarls.

The bones beneath his skin began to shift with an audible ...pop-crack.., and a vein pulsed violently along his temple. Iris watched in horror as the muscles along his arms expanded, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. His fingers curled, the nails lengthening into dark, curved claws.

"Jason..." Her voice barely existed. "What are you?

His upper lip pulled back, revealing elongated, razor-sharp fangs. His entire frame seemed to expand, muscles swelling beneath his clothes.

Iris backed away, her heart hammering. "Jason? What the hell is going on?"

He didn’t answer with words. He released a roar—a deep, chest-vibrating sound that shook the windows in their frames.

Finn and Shawn surged forward. "Jason! Stop!"

Jason lunged. He was a blur of gold and fury, but Alexander was faster. In one fluid motion, Alexander’s hand shot out and clamped around Jason’s throat.

The ease of the movement was terrifying. Alexander lifted Jason effortlessly, slamming him back against the wall with a ...BOOM. The impact cracked the masonry, sending a shower of dust and plaster over them.

Jason clawed frantically at Alexander’s wrist, his legs kicking uselessly in the air. Alexander’s other hand remained calmly in his pocket.

Iris felt the air leave her lungs. She stared at the creature Jason had become—the fangs, the claws, the glowing eyes. A memory flashed through her mind, a warning from her friend Zoey.

Zoey sitting across from her in their apartment, desperately trying to convince her that something was wrong. The warnings Iris had laughed away because they had sounded insane.

"Zoey was right all along." The thought struck her with terrifying clarity.

She had not been imagining things. Werewolves were real. And Jason was one of them.

"What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Shawn and Finn moved to intervene, their own eyes flashing yellow, their fangs descending. A low, synchronized growl filled the hall as they prepared to attack.

Alexander slowly turned his head toward them. As he did, the blue in his eyes vanished. In their place erupted a brilliant, unnatural crimson.

Shawn stopped mid-step. Finn froze. Both boys went rigid, their bodies locking up as if they had been struck by lightning. Their internal wolves didn’t just stop; they recoiled. They cowered.

It was a primal, instinctive fear. The kind of terror a rabbit feels when the shadow of a hawk crosses the sun. Their instincts recognized what their minds couldn’t: they were in the presence of the ultimate predator.

This wasn’t just an Alpha. This was something beyond.

Alexander didn’t roar. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone commanded the space. He turned back to Jason, who was still snarling, trying to force his shift further.

Alexander tightened his grip. He lifted Jason higher, holding him like a disobedient child.

Jason roared again, a sound of pure desperation. And something in Alexander answered. His eyes flooded with a terrifying, brilliant crimson, and dark, branching veins surfaced beneath the skin around his sockets. His pupils narrowed into predatory slits, and two elongated fangs descended past his upper lip.

For a fleeting second, Iris saw it: the monster beneath the billionaire. Something ancient. Something that had existed long before the cities and the laws of men.

"Listen to me, pup," Alexander said, his voice frighteningly calm.

Jason struggled, his claws scraping against Alexander’s skin without leaving a mark.

"You’d better learn some manners," Alexander continued, "before you force me to explain to Gerald why I had to put his wayward son down."

Jason’s eyes widened. The mention of his father—Gerald Montgomery—stripped the rage from his face, replacing it with sudden, sharp fear. Gerald was one of the most powerful Alphas in the region, a man whose influence was legendary. And Alexander had spoken his name as if he were a nuisance.

Shawn and Finn looked at each other, their faces drained of color. Who the hell was this man?

"What is going on here?"

A new voice echoed through the corridor. Professor Harold Whitmore appeared at the end of the hallway. He stopped dead, his face turning pale as he saw Jason suspended against the wall.

Then, Whitmore looked at Alexander. The moment their eyes met, the Professor’s posture collapsed. He bowed his head deeply, stepping forward with hurried, respectful strides.

"Sir, please," Whitmore said, his voice trembling with deference. "I apologize for the security failure that allowed this... situation to occur. I assure you, it will be dealt with immediately. Please, sir, have mercy and let him go."

Iris stared at Whitmore. The strict, authoritarian professor was now acting like a servant.

Her breathing became shallow. She looked at Jason, then at the boys, then at Whitmore, and finally, back to Alexander.

The pieces of the puzzle slammed together. The mark on her neck. The way her blood sang when Alexander touched her. The impossible strength. The eyes. The fangs.

Alexander turned toward her. The red glow of his eyes was still fading, but the predatory intensity remained.

Iris began to shake her head. She didn’t want an explanation. Not now. Not from any of them.

She turned and ran.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t wait for him to call her name. She fled down the corridor as fast as her legs could carry her, clutching her bag to her chest, and ran faster, her breathing ragged as the world she thought she understood collapsed around her.

Werewolves were real, and they’re in plain sight. There are werewolves in Seattle. The supernatural was real.

And while she ran across Campus to escape from there, one single, terrifying thought pounded in time with her heart:

....What the hell have I gotten involved with?...