The next day arrived sooner than Indiana had hoped, she spent half the night nearly regretting the deal she’d made with Finnick.

Yet, here she was, feeling like a total fool.

The school library wasn't too crowded yet when Indiana pushed open the glass doors. Morning light streamed through the high windows, reflecting off the polished wood floors. And just as she expected, Finnick was already there.

He sat at the same table, now buried under an even larger stack of books than yesterday, with his laptop open. Pens were lined up in a row, as straight as a phalanx of soldiers.

Immaculate... Indiana noted silently, watching Finnick, who looked more like a robot than a human in her eyes.

Indiana stopped a few paces away, but he didn't look up. He was writing something rapidly, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

What a prick, she thought.

She walked over and dropped her bag onto the chair across from him with a heavy thump.

Finnick stopped writing and slowly lifted his gaze. His bright blue eyes locked onto Indiana for a split second before returning to his screen.

"You’re three minutes late," he protested.

Indiana rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you too," she shot back sarcastically.

"I wasn't hired to be friendly," Finnick countered, making Indiana scoff again.

Indiana leaned back in her chair, every fiber of her being wanting to get up and walk away, but Mary’s ultimatum kept her anchored in her seat.

"You know, normal people usually start a conversation with 'hello.'"

Finnick kept typing. "Normal people also don't apply to Oxyord with math scores that pathetic," he retorted.

Indiana glared at him. "Okay. So we're moving on to personal attacks now?" She was ready for war; she didn't care about Mary’s ultimatum anymore. She was sure she could find another way without this arrogant, stiff-necked guy.

Finnick finally closed his laptop and slid a thick book toward her.

"Basic Mathematics."

Indiana looked at the book as if it were a mortal enemy. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"You need a foundation before you can build anything. Strengthen the basics, then we move forward," Finnick commanded, tapping the book with his index finger.

Reluctantly, Indiana flipped open the first page with a clear air of skepticism. Finnick, meanwhile, was fighting a hard battle not to laugh at the stubborn girl in front of him.

A few seconds passed. Indiana was already groaning. "I hate this," she complained.

"That much is clear," Finnick replied flatly.

Indiana slammed the book shut. "Can't we start with something more... advanced? Come on, I’m not that bad. You're seriously underselling me here. I don't trust your judgment."

Finnick crossed his arms. "Your skills are exactly as basic as this book."

Indiana was about to snap back when—

"Indy!"

The voice shattered the tension like a stone through glass. Indiana turned instantly. Jax strolled into the library with a casual swagger, his bag slung over one shoulder. A wide grin spread across his face the moment he saw her.

"So this is where you’ve been."

Indiana let out a small sigh. "Jax, I’m busy—"

Jax was already standing behind her chair. His hand landed casually on her shoulder. "Studying?" he mocked, glancing at the book on the table. He let out a dry laugh. "Since when?"

Indiana nudged his stomach lightly. "Shut up."

Jax then glanced at Finnick for the first time since entering the library, and his expression shifted. "Ah." His voice went flat. "The nerd."

Finnick didn't react. He simply reopened his laptop. Indiana watched him closely, relieved to see no change in his expression or a sharp retort. She couldn't imagine the chaos if Finnick’s silver tongue started wagging now.

However, his silence acted as if Jax didn't even exist in the room. And that clearly grated on Jax.

He pulled an empty chair next to Indiana and sat down close, completely ignoring Finnick's presence as he wrapped an arm around Indiana's shoulder.

"So, you guys are studying together now?"

Indiana tried to push his arm off. "He’s my tutor."

"Seriously?" Jax laughed again. "Indy, you must be really desperate."

Indiana opened her mouth to argue, but something made her stop. Finnick was still silent, but his fingers, which had been flying across the keys, had stopped.

Indiana didn't know why she was watching him. Maybe because... the silence felt different now.

She stole a glance at Finnick. He was still staring at his screen, but she could see his jaw tightening. Just a fraction. If Indiana hadn't been paying close attention, she wouldn't have noticed it.

"Hey, Indy." Jax suddenly grabbed Indiana’s chin, forcing her face toward him. "Look at me when I’m talking to you."

Indiana swiped his hand away. "Don't be dramatic."

Jax laughed. "Just kidding," he lied.

But this time, he moved even closer. His hand slid down from her shoulder to her waist. Indiana stiffened instantly.

"Jax."

"What?"

"Don't."

Jax just smirked. Indiana glanced at Finnick again, who remained silent, seemingly indifferent to them.

See? Indiana thought. An NPC is still an NPC. But for some reason, she felt a wave of crushing disappointment—a feeling that surprised even her.

Jax leaned in close to Indiana. "So you really want to get into Oxyord?"

Indiana sighed. "Yeah."

"Why bother?" Jax commented, tapping the math book with his finger. "You're not the type to study," he added.

Indiana pulled the book away from his fingers. "I have my reasons."

Jax stared at her for a few seconds, then gave a thin smile. "Because of your dad?"

Indiana went rigid. "You know nothing. Don't bring him into this."

"Why not?" Jax’s tone turned sharper, more mocking. "Aren't you the one always saying you want to prove something to him?"

Indiana felt a tightening in her chest. She hated this conversation. And Jax knew it. Worse, he was doing this in front of Finnick—the last person she wanted knowing her reasons for studying.

Jax always knew which buttons to press to regain control, and Indiana cursed her big mouth for ever being stupid enough to tell Jax anything.

Jax grabbed Indiana's wrist. It wasn't overly hard, but it was enough to make her wince in discomfort.

"Let go."

"Calm down," Jax commanded, his voice sharp and demanding.

His grip tightened slightly. Indiana tried to pull her hand away. "Jax."

Across the table, Finnick closed his laptop. The sound was quiet, but enough to make Indiana look.

And that’s when she saw it.

Finnick’s eyes.

They weren't the flat, bright blue they usually were. Something in them was darker now, deeper. Indiana’s heart skipped a beat.

Finnick stood up slowly, his movements eerily calm. So calm that Jax hadn't even noticed yet. Jax was still holding Indiana’s hand, now leaning in to try and kiss her neck.

"You're so teasing—" Jax rasped, his voice thick.

Indiana tensed, revulsion washing over her.

Then, she saw something strange. Finnick's hand at his side—his fingernails looked slightly longer than before. An illusion, maybe? Indiana thought, unsure.

But Finnick’s entire posture had shifted. His shoulders were taut, his body leaning slightly forward. Like an animal holding itself back with every ounce of its strength.

Jax finally glanced at Finnick. "Oh?" He let out a dry laugh. "You're still here, I see."

Finnick didn't answer. His gaze dropped to Jax’s hand, which was still gripping Indiana’s wrist. Indiana suddenly felt the air in the room grow heavy and suffocating. Other students in the library began to steal glances their way.

Jax smirked. "What?" he scoffed at Finnick, intentionally pulling Indiana closer. "Jealous?"

Indiana let out a frustrated breath. "Jax, seriously—"

Jax’s grip suddenly turned rough, making Indiana wince. "Ah—that hurts."

Then, it happened fast.

Finnick took one step forward, causing his chair to screech against the floor. The sound echoed through the room, which had gone suddenly silent.

Indiana stared at him. There was something in Finnick’s face she had never seen before. A raw, dangerous instinct. His blue eyes were now completely dark.

Jax didn't catch it. He just mocked him further. "What are you gonna do, nerd boy?"

Finnick didn't answer, but his gaze never left Jax’s hand. When he spoke, his voice was low, bone-chilling, and felt like a heavy command.

"Let. Her. Go."

The three words fell like stones into still water, sending out massive ripples. The entire room seemed to freeze. Everyone knew those words were a battle cry; a confrontation was now unavoidable.

Somewhere in the back, someone dropped a book, but no one dared to react.

Indiana felt a strange shiver run down her spine. It wasn't because of Finnick's words—which she thought were suicidal—but because of the aura he was exuding.

For the first time, she felt it. A scream echoed in her mind: This man is not just a nerd!

"Let her go?" Jax repeated Finnick’s words, his mocking tone growing louder as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous joke of the century. He let out a dry, hollow laugh, glancing around the room to gather support from the students who were already starting to whisper.

"You hear that, Indy? This piece of trash is trying to play the hero for you," Jax said, his voice jumping an octave, dripping with deliberate hatred and serving as a sharp warning to Finnick for daring to speak up.

Jax stepped forward, pressing his chest directly against Finnick’s. He intentionally puffed out his athletic frame to intimidate the man standing before him. His left hand moved in a flash, grabbing the collar of Finnick’s neat shirt and yanking it upward until the bespectacled boy was forced onto his tiptoes.

"Listen here, you pathetic nerd," Jax hissed right in Finnick’s face. "In this school, you’re nothing but the dirt stuck to the bottom of my shoe. You don’t have the right to speak, let alone have the balls to boss me around. You know what happens to cockroaches that crawl out in front of me? I crush them until they’re nothing," he sneered.

"Jax, let go! That hurts, you idiot!" Indiana groaned, trying to jerk her hand away, but Jax only pulled her harder until she collided with the side of a desk.

"Shut up, Indy! I’m busy giving your new pet a lesson," Jax barked without looking back. His eyes, hungry for dominance, returned to Finnick. "Why are you so quiet now? Where’d that nerve go? You gonna cry? Or are you gonna run and tattle to Indy’s mommy so she can protect you?" he mocked.

Finnick didn’t move—not even when Jax’s spit landed on his cheek. But Indiana, standing so close, could feel a shift in the atmosphere. The air around Finnick seemed to turn ice-cold, like the heavy pressure before a blizzard hits. She saw Finnick’s jaw tighten, and behind those boring, thick lenses, his blue eyes were now as dark as the deepest ocean.

"Let. Her. Go. Now." Finnick repeated. His voice wasn’t loud, but it vibrated with an authority so heavy it made the students at the neighboring tables shiver for no apparent reason.

"You son of a—! You still think you can challenge me?!" Jax finally lost it. He swung a powerful right hook, aiming directly for Finnick’s jaw.

Thwack!

The sound of the impact was solid, but it didn’t sound like a fist hitting flesh. Indiana’s eyes widened. Finnick had raised his right hand in a movement nearly impossible for the eye to track, catching Jax’s fist in his open palm.

Jax froze. He tried to pull his hand back, but Finnick’s grip was like a steel vise locking his knuckles in place. Finnick’s face remained as expressionless as a stone slab, but the sheer strength he channeled through that grip made the color drain from Jax’s face.

"You... you’re actually fighting back, you bastard?" Jax’s voice began to tremble between rage and the pain radiating up his arm. He cursed internally because his fist felt shattered, as if he had punched a reinforced steel wall.

"I said get out, Jax. Before I forget that we’re on school grounds," Finnick hissed. Then, with a shove that looked effortless but was incredibly powerful, Finnick pushed against Jax’s chest.

Jax’s body was hurled backward, slamming into a bookshelf that collapsed and sent books raining down on him. The thunderous crash echoed through the library, prompting the librarian to stand up and scream at them to be quiet.

"You’re dead! Just wait until tomorrow! I’ll make sure you don’t have a face left to show at this school, you nerd!" Jax threatened, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He glared at Indiana with a mix of shame and hatred before turning around and kicking a bookshelf near the exit to vent his rage.

Indiana’s jaw dropped; she couldn’t process what she had just witnessed. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Finnick slowly sit back down, returning to his typing with an uncanny level of calm. It was as if absolutely nothing had happened.

What the actual f—? she cursed silently.

***

After the last period that afternoon, the sky turned a bruised, dark gray. Indiana felt restless the entire way to the motorcycle lot. All day, her mind had been stuck on the image of Finnick’s expression. How could the man she had always considered weak possess that kind of power?

As she was thinking about him, she saw Finnick walking calmly down a narrow alleyway next to the outer parking lot—a shortcut that was usually deserted. Her curiosity won out; she left her bike behind and tried to follow him.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going, you piece of trash?!" someone shouted loudly.

Finnick stopped. In front of him stood Jax, wearing a bloodthirsty smirk. Behind him were four thugs in modified school uniforms; Indiana knew them as a gang of hired muscle usually brought in for dirty work. One of them, a guy with a buzz cut and a scar over his eyebrow, was twirling a wooden bat in his hand.

"You felt real tough in the library because of the teachers, didn't you?" Jax spat to the side, his eyes full of vengeance. "Now I brought my friends. They want to see if your hands are still that strong after we break them one by one".

The massive thug next to Jax took a step forward. "This is the nerd you were talking about, Jax? This twiggy kid? I could kill him with one hit. You lost to a kid like this? That’s embarrassing," the thug spat near Jax’s shoe.

Jax didn't dare talk back.

Finnick let out a long sigh, as if he’d just been asked to solve a boring math problem. He showed no sign of fear. Slowly, he removed his thick glasses, folded them carefully, and tucked them into his inner shirt pocket.

"I’m really not in the mood for a workout this afternoon," Finnick murmured, his voice sounding completely different.

"Talk all you want, you're dead!" The thug with the bat lunged forward.

Finnick moved. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward, closing the distance into the opponent's guard. His movements were agile and fluid—not like someone in a brawl, but like a predator dancing. As the wooden bat swung toward his head, Finnick simply tilted his head a few inches to avoid it, with perfect precision. Wasting no time, he delivered a short, sharp punch to the man's solar plexus.

The massive man collapsed instantly, vomiting on the asphalt in a single strike.

The other three froze for a second before charging all at once. The narrow alley suddenly erupted with the sounds of physical impact and groans of pain. Finnick moved like a black shadow in the twilight of the alley. He parried kicks, twisted arms until a sickening crack echoed, and delivered precise strikes to pressure points.

Indiana, who had been following at a distance out of anxiety, hid behind the alley wall. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. She saw Finnick—the "loser" who always kept his head down in class, the person she thought was just an NPC—systematically taking down four thugs at once without breaking a single drop of sweat.

He was a completely different person.

When only a trembling Jax was left standing, Finnick walked toward him. The aura he projected was now so dominant, so crushing, that Jax felt like the oxygen was being sucked out of the air.

"Wh... what are you? Are you a demon?!" Jax whispered in terror, backing up until his spine hit the cold brick wall.

Finnick grabbed Jax’s throat with one hand, lifting him until Jax was dangling on his tiptoes. Even in the shadows of the alley, Indiana could see Finnick’s eyes glowing a bright, electric blue, reminding her of the lightning-flash in a wolf’s eyes at midnight.

"Remember this well, Jax," Finnick’s voice was low, nearly a guttural growl that vibrated through bone. "If you ever touch Indiana again, or even mention her name with your filthy mouth... I’ll make sure you don't have a tongue left to speak with. Understand?"

Jax could only nod frantically, his face turning blue from lack of air. Finnick dropped him, and Jax collapsed to the ground, shaking violently as if he had just come face-to-face with a monster.

***

The next morning in the high school’s main corridor.

Indiana walked with hesitant steps. ВВShe was intentionally wearing her leather jacket to hide her anxiety. She hadn't slept all night, the scene in the alley playing on loop in her mind. Who was Finnick, really?

As she passed the lockers, she saw a very unusual sight. Jax, Brock, and Rhett were huddled together. However, their "kings of the school" aura had completely vanished. Jax had a large bandage on his forehead, his arm was in a sling, and his face was as pale as if he’d just seen a ghost.

"Jax!" Indiana called out.

Jax flinched so hard he nearly dropped his books. The moment he saw Indiana approaching, his eyes widened in terror. He didn't greet her with a hug like usual; instead, he backed away several steps.

"Indy... please, just stay away from me!" Jax yelled, his voice raspy and stuttering.

"Wait, why? Why are you all beat up? Who dared to lay a hand on my boyfriend?" Indiana asked, trying to test Jax’s honesty. She reached out to touch his forehead, but Jax flinched away in a panic, as if Indiana’s hand were a scorching flame.

"It’s nothing! I... I fell! Yeah, we all fell down the stairs together! Look, I gotta go, don't call me anymore!" Jax and his crew immediately bolted, leaving Indiana standing bewildered in the middle of the hallway.

"Fell down the stairs together? That is the least creative lie ever," Indiana muttered.

But suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. There was a powerful presence behind her. Indiana turned slowly, her heart pounding.

Standing there, about fifteen feet behind her, was Finnick Axton. He looked like the usual Finnick, with his neat shirt buttoned all the way up and thick glasses slipping slightly down his nose, clutching a math reference book the size of a pillow. He still looked incredibly boring and harmless.

However, Indiana caught a split-second moment before Finnick realized she was there. She saw Finnick’s eyes—sharp, cold, and full of a deadly threat—guarding the back of the retreating Jax. It was the gaze of a predator monitoring its prey to ensure it stayed on the path he’d set.

The moment he noticed Indiana turn around, Finnick instantly adjusted his expression. His face went back to being flat, vacant, and seemingly indifferent to the world.

Indiana stood in silence, her tongue tied.

So yesterday wasn't just my imagination. This NPC really did it. Jax was scared to death just seeing him behind me.

"Finnick?" Indiana called out softly.

Finnick pushed his glasses up with his middle finger—a stiff, habitual movement. "The bell rings in three minutes, Indiana. Don’t forget, we have our math session during lunch. Don't be late again," he warned in a flat tone.

Finnick then turned and walked calmly toward class, leaving Indiana still frozen in place.

Mr. NPC, you’ve definitely caught my attention... Indiana thought to herself with a hidden smirk.

The final bell had rung over an hour ago.

In the quiet expanse of the library, Finnick’s gaze drifted toward the wall clock with growing irritation.

It was as if the clock itself were the enemy, ticking away mercilessly and mocking him as he sat there, still waiting for Indiana to swagger through those doors with her usual arrogant attitude.

'Damn it, I knew she would be the death of me,' Finnick cursed silently.

'I was naive to think a girl like her would suddenly find some discipline and actually keep her word.'

He stood up, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, and took a long, stabilizing breath to wipe any trace of annoyance from his face, forcing his expression back into a cold, unreadable blank slate.

'I need to find out if she's even worth another second of my time.'

Finnick headed toward the classrooms to track her down, fully expecting to find her lingering and gossiping with the others.

But she’s not there, the room almost empty.

He had guessed wrong, and for some unsettling reason, his chest tightened—a sudden drop in his gut that caught him completely off guard.

A girl packing up her books noticed his eyes scanning the empty rows.

"Looking for someone?" she asked in a friendly tone.

"Indiana," Finnick replied flatly, his face a mask of indifference.

Though her brows knitted in sheer confusion as to why Finnick the Nerd was looking for the school's resident rebel, she still answered, "Probably wasting time by the parking lot with Jax and his crowd."

Without offering a single word of thanks, Finnick turned and walked away.

His strides lengthened as he cut through the shadows toward the deserted back parking lot.

Faintly, his hyper-acute wolf senses picked up a laugh he recognized all too well. It was Jax, his laugh sounding forced and hollow, blending with the low, venomous whispers of his lackeys behind the concrete wall of the motorcycle lot.

"I'm not just letting it slide, getting trashed like that by that pathetic loser," Jax spat, gingerly touching his arm where it hung cradled in a sling.

"But I figured out that nerd's weak spot. He tried to play the hero for Indiana in the library yesterday, right? It means, he gives a shit about her," Jax instigated, his voice dripping with malice.

"Wahoo, I sensed our next move?" Brock asked, leaning in, completely hooked.

"I’m going to use Indiana to break him. Besides, she’s been playing the girlfriend part for a while now but keeps acting like she’s untouchable. Touch her even a little and she flinches away. I’m betting she’s still a virgin, which makes her a much more entertaining target," Jax laughed, spitting onto the asphalt with a repulsive smirk twisting his face.

"Tonight, she's finally going to learn her place. I kill two birds with one stone, I take Indiana, and get my sweet revenge on the Nerd as well," Jax bragged, laughing to himself.

Behind the wall, Finnick’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together.

'A virgin? Hah,' he scoffed internally, his skepticism flaring.

'What a load of absolute bullshit.'

For a split second, Finnick was on the verge of stepping out from the shadows and snapping Jax’s neck to put an end to his sick little plan, but he forced his instincts down.

He couldn't be reckless. What he needed to do right now was find Indiana and snap some sense into her.

'But where the hell is she?' he thought, frustration building up.

His question was answered a second later when Jax carelessly leaked her exact location.

"Where and when are we doing this?" Brock asked, his excitement ramping up.

Jax’s next words were all Finnick needed to hear before deciding to track Indiana down himself.

***

THUD.

The heavy door swung open, and a suffocating wave of nicotine hit Finnick’s nose, making him wince.

Low, hazy neon lights in shades of bleeding red and purple blinked sluggishly, cutting through the thick smoke hanging in the air.

The oppressive thumping of the bass vibrated right through the wooden floorboards of the shady, low-end club tucked away in a dark corner of Dreadmoor.

His eyes swept the room, and the moment they locked onto his target, his wolf instincts roared to life.

In the center of a low stage, surrounded by a crowd of leering, intoxicated men, a girl in a vibrant purple wig and a black lace mask was swaying to the rhythm, her hands gripping a stripper pole.

Indiana.

Even with the mask obscuring her features, the intoxicatingly sweet scent of the mate bond radiating from her skin was something Finnick could never mistake.

She was wearing next to nothing, putting her sharp curves on full display and striking provocative poses just to collect the crumpled dollar bills tossed onto the stage.

A dark, primal Alpha rage exploded in Finnick's chest.

His blood ran scalding hot. How dare his she-wolf parade her untouched, sacred body in front of these disgusting, pathetic men?

Maneuvering through the crowd without a second thought, he leaped onto the stage and wrapped his hand around Indiana’s wrist, his grip bringing her movements to a dead stop.

"We’re leaving. Now," Finnick hissed, his voice vibrating with the sheer effort of holding back his inner beast.

Indiana’s eyes went wide behind the lace mask.

"Finnick?! How the hell did you—let go of me! What do you think you're doing!" She tried to wrench her arm free, but his hand was an unyielding cuff of steel.

"I said get the hell out of this dumpster, Indiana!" Finnick snapped, his tone darkening.

"This is my job, freak! Stop trying to play the damn hero! Get out of here before you get me fired!" Indiana whispered fiercely, trying desperately to avoid a massive scene.

Her pride as a rebel girl refused to break; she deliberately stepped into his space, tilting her body up to challenge him with the same provocative stance she used on customers.

"Unless, of course, you want to pay for my time with that little pathetic pocket money you have," she taunted, giving him a sharp, wicked wink.

Finnick’s jaw tightened into a hard line.

The suffocating aura of an Alpha’s dominance bled out just enough to make the hairs on the back of Indiana’s neck stand on end.

"You cheap, foolish girl," he murmured, his voice laced with pure disgust.

"What did you just say to me?!" Indiana snapped, all attempts at keeping her cool completely vanishing.

"Get the hell off this stage, you loser!" she roared.

"Not without you."

An intense, chaotic tug-of-war broke out between them.

Indiana kicked and thrashed, her blinding stubbornness crashing head-on into Finnick’s absolute dominance.

The scene instantly drew the wrong kind of attention.

Three burly men in club bouncer uniforms marched onto the stage, one of them shoving a heavy hand into Finnick’s shoulder.

"Hey, brat! Let go of her before I break your arm in half!" the head bouncer barked.

Finnick didn't retreat a single inch.

Slowly, deliberately, he pushed his glasses up with his middle finger, boring his cold gaze into the guard before shifting his eyes toward a middle-aged man in a sharp suit watching from a VIP booth—the club owner.

"You've made a fatal mistake," Finnick said, his voice terrifyingly calm, cutting right through the booming bass.

"Employing a minor in an establishment like this is a federal crime. One phone call from me, and this place gets boarded up right this second," he threatened with so much confidence.

At the mention of the threat, the owner's face turned incredibly dark. He gave a cold, dismissive flick of his wrist.

"Drag the bastard to the back alley. Teach him a lesson so he learns to keep his mouth shut."

Brak!

Finnick’s body crashed hard against a pile of filthy trash cans in the pitch-black back alley of the club.

Indiana burst through the exit door, her breath coming in ragged gasps, "Finnick! Get up! Run, you idiot!" she screamed, panic taking over.

It was too late.

The four club bouncers and the owner had already closed in on them, trapping them against the brick wall.

Finnick rose slowly, calmly brushing the dirt off his clothes.

Physically, he could have torn these five men limb from limb in less than three seconds. But his hands were tied. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the faint glow of a phone screen. Someone from the window of the adjacent building was recording the entire thing.

If Finnick unleashed even a fraction of his monstrous strength, his cover would blow completely. Clenching his teeth, he made a split-second executive decision, ‘Let them hit me.’

Fist after fist rained down on Finnick’s stomach and face. The massive men beat him brutally, showing no mercy.

Finnick allowed himself to collapse onto the cold asphalt, taking hit after hit as they kicked him repeatedly until his lip split open and his glasses cracked across the lenses.

"Sir! Enough! Stop it, please stop!" Indiana shrieked hysterically, throwing herself forward to intervene, but another guard shoved her back roughly, sending her crashing to the ground.

Tears streamed down her face, her chest aching with a strange, hollow panic as she watched the nerd—the boy who had only come to save her—getting broken and bloodied right in front of her.

Once Finnick stopped moving, the club owner spat onto the ground. "Let’s go. And you, Indiana... you’re done here. Don’t ever show your face in my club again."

Indiana scrambled on her hands and knees toward Finnick’s limp body. "Finnick... hey, open your eyes... you idiot," she whispered frantically, her hands shaking as she patted his bruised, bleeding face.

Finnick opened his swollen eyes just a fraction, his gaze locking onto hers.

"You are so much trouble," he muttered weakly, before closing his eyes again, forcing himself to feign unconsciousness.

***

The following morning, Stuart Academy was practically on fire.

The video of the brutal beatdown in the alley behind the strip club had spread like wildfire through the school’s class groups.

Making matters worse, the clip was plastered with a blatant caption that exposed the dirty truth: Indiana Stuart, an underage stripper, was the reason for the brawl.

Walking down the corridors, Indiana was met with a barrage of disgusting whispers and mocking sneers, but she kept her head high, forcing her usual arrogant, untouchable defiance onto her face. At the corner by the bulletin board, Jax and his crew were laughing loudest, looking smugly satisfied with a victory they didn't even have to bleed for.

"Indiana Stuart and Finnick Axton! Report to the Principal’s office immediately!" the school intercom boomed, shattering the loud chatter of the hallway.

'Shoot,' Indiana muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Inside the office, Principal Mary stood towering behind her desk, her breathing shallow and ragged, her face flushed a furious crimson as she fought to contain an explosive rage.

"Finnick Axton, since you completely failed to manage my daughter, you can officially kiss your Oxyord application goodbye," Mary sneered, her voice ice-cold as her hands ripped Finnick’s admission papers to shreds, her expression dead and frozen.

"MOM! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?! THIS WAS ALL ON ME!" Indiana roared in fury.