Mated to My Stepbrother Bully

“Just one more year. You can survive this.” The words were a fragile mantra on my lips as I passed beneath the imposing wrought-iron archway of Silverwood Academy. The air here always felt heavier, charged with the unspoken power of the high-status wolves who called this place their domain.

I kept my gaze fixed on the worn cobblestones of the path, shoulders hunched, willing myself to become part of the scenery. The goal was simple: be invisible. Blend into the stonework until the students milling around the grand entrance forgot I existed. It was a futile hope, one I’d clung to since my first day here, admitted not on merit but as some charitable outreach to lesser packs.

“Scholarship case.” “The runt.” “Four-eyed omega.” The labels followed me like shadows. Today was merely the first act of another long, painful performance.

A collective, high-pitched gasp sliced through the morning chatter. “It’s Kael’s car!” A sleek, obsidian-black limousine glided to a silent stop at the curb. Like moths to a flame, a swarm of giggling students surged toward it.

My body locked. My fingers clenched around the strap of my bag until the leather bit into my palm. Instinct took over—I bolted, ducking through the heavy oak doors and not stopping until my back was pressed against the cool metal of my locker, heart hammering against my ribs.

Kael Valdemar. The name alone was a trigger. He was the epicenter of every storm in my life, and avoidance was my only defense.

“Go to class. Keep your head down. Run home the second the final bell rings.” I whispered the plan, a desperate script for survival.

Drawing a shaky breath, I punched in my lock code. The moment the door swung open, a deafening POP exploded from the darkness. Something wet and foul splattered across my face and glasses. The rancid stench of rotten eggs invaded my senses, making my stomach heave. I didn’t have time to gag before a second impact slammed into the back of my skull.

I whirled around, just in time for another projectile to hit me square in the face. A small balloon burst, releasing a cloud of fine flour that coated my hair, my clothes, my skin.

“Why don’t you crawl back to whatever ditch you crawled out of?” a voice jeered. More flour-filled balloons rained down, a humiliating blizzard that left me choking and blind.

Tears mixed with the grime on my cheeks. I stood frozen, a statue of misery, as a circle of students formed, pelting me with whatever they had—crumpled paper, bits of eraser, mocking laughter. My throat burned, but no sound came out.

“Did you honestly believe we’d forget our pathetic little omega pet?” The voice was cold, dripping with a venomous sweetness I knew all too well.

Chloe Ashcroft. The most popular Gamma in Silverwood, a queen with a court of smug followers. She sauntered forward, a cruel smile playing on her lips. Before I could utter a word, her hands shot out, shoving me backward with brutal force. My head cracked against the metal locker door.

White-hot pain spiderwebbed from the point of impact, shooting down my spine. My legs gave way, and I crumpled to the cold linoleum floor.

“No one wants you here, scholarship case,” she hissed, bending down. Her fingers closed around the frame of my glasses and yanked them off my face.

“N-No! Chloe, please! I can’t see!” The plea was pathetic, raw. I reached for them, but two of her friends pinned my arms, their laughter a sharp, grating sound.

The world dissolved into a blur of shapeless colors and smeared faces.

“I’m surprised you had the guts to show your face again. Not after last year’… incident’,” Chloe purred, and a cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

“Consider this your official welcome back. I’m going to make this year a living nightmare for you. I won’t stop until you’re gone for good. Your kind doesn’t belong here.” With that, she opened her hand, letting my glasses fall. Her designer heel came down with a decisive crunch.

The sound was a small, final death. My breath hitched. Those were my last pair. It had taken three part-time jobs over the summer to save enough for them.

As Chloe and her entourage strutted away, their laughter echoing down the cavernous hall, I knelt amidst the debris, my body trembling with silent sobs. The bell rang, a shrill reminder of reality. I had to get to class. But how? Without my glasses, everything beyond my fingertips was a fog.

Arms outstretched like a sleepwalker, I stumbled forward. A student chose that moment to swing his locker door wide open. I walked directly into the solid metal edge. A fresh wave of laughter erupted around me.

Tears of frustration stung my eyes. The urge to just sink to the floor and give up was overwhelming. But I knew surrender would only fuel their cruelty.

The main doors burst open again. A new scent washed over the area—cedarwood, frost, and raw, untamed power. I didn’t need to see to know who had entered.

Kael Valdemar. The golden heir. Perfect grades, Alpha’s son, hockey captain. My personal tormentor.

A violent shiver racked my frame. Every step of his polished shoes on the floor echoed like a drumbeat of doom. I prayed silently for the ground to swallow me whole. Facing Kael was worse than facing the entire student body.

“What’s the matter, Aria? Didn’t you like my welcome-back present?” His voice was a low, mocking drawl as he stopped directly in front of me. His presence seemed to vacuum the oxygen from the space around us. I couldn’t breathe.

I kept my eyes downcast, fixed on my blurry, flour-dusted shoes. An omega’s instinct screamed to submit, to avoid the dominant Alpha’s gaze. It took a second for his words to penetrate the haze of panic.

He planned this? Of course. Who else took such meticulous, creative joy in my suffering?

“Don’t worry,” he leaned in, his whisper a promise of more pain. “I’ve saved something truly special for lunch.”

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. But before he could elaborate, the late bell rang, scattering the crowd. Students shoved past, rushing to their classes.

“Have a wonderful first day,” a singsong voice called from behind my locker. I turned, squinting, to see one of Chloe’s lackeys upending a large bottle of water directly into the open compartment.

“My books!” The cry was ripped from me.

She merely gave me a look of pure disdain, smirked, and walked away.

I was left standing alone in the emptying hallway—covered in flour and egg, my textbooks soaked, half-blind, and utterly defeated. And a deep, chilling part of me knew Kael’s lunchtime “surprise” would be far worse.

I lost track of time huddled in a bathroom stall, the silent tears finally coming. It was long enough for the janitor to find me and shoo me out so she could clean. Taking pity on my wretched state and the lingering stench, she offered me a spare set of her navy-blue coveralls. It was humiliating, but it was clean. It was all I had.

I slipped into my second-period class, hoping to slide into a back row unseen.

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to be, Miss Fairsprene?” The teacher’s voice was a whip-crack of disapproval, her eyes flashing with ire. “Detention. For the rest of the week.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

“Just… sit. Down.” she snapped. Snickers followed me as I shuffled to the very last row, drowning in the oversized fabric.

“And another thing—” Her tirade was cut off as the classroom door opened.

My blood ran cold.

Kael Valdemar walked in.

The teacher’s stern demeanor melted into a slight, deferential nod. My hands began to shake uncontrollably under the desk. What was he doing here? This wasn’t his usual schedule.

Each step he took echoed in the silent room. As he passed my aisle, my heart seized. I flinched, bracing for a shove, a whispered threat. Instead, he slid into the empty seat directly behind me.

Why? Why, of all the classes, of all the seats? A fresh wave of panic washed over me. For the entire period, I sat statue-still, barely daring to breathe, hyper-aware of his presence at my back.

The moment class ended, I fled. I spent the next hours hiding beneath the bleachers on the sports field, counting down the minutes until I could escape.

Detention made me late for my after-school shift at the coffee shop. Paranoia had me constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting Kael’s promised ambush. I was almost at the bus stop when a car I didn’t recognize—sleek, silver, and far too expensive for our neighborhood—pulled up sharply in front of me.

The passenger door opened, and my mother stepped out.

Isabella. I hadn’t seen her in over a month. Since my father’s death and our move here for my scholarship, she’d become a ghost in my life. She was rarely home, and when she was, she seemed desperate to be anywhere else.

“Get in. Now.” Her voice was sharp, her grip on my arm bruising as she practically threw me into the luxurious leather seat.

“Mom? What’s going on? Whose car is this?” Dread coiled in my stomach. Had she gotten into trouble? Debt?