My Nerdy Alpha's True Masks

"Do you hear me, Finnick Axton?" Mary Stuart repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes locked onto him with a cold, piercing look.

"Consider the letter of recommendation you’ve been begging for from Stuart Academy officially gone. Your reckless little stunt completely trashed this school’s reputation, and Oxyord has absolutely no room for a delinquent candidate like you."

"Now, get the hell out of my office," Mary ordered, her voice cutting through the room like ice.

Indiana’s jaw dropped.

She stood there in absolute disbelief, unable to process the harsh decision coming out of her own mother's mouth.

Her eyes darted from the torn pieces of paper fluttering down to the floor, before instantly shifting to the guy standing right next to her.

Finnick’s face was flushed with a furious crimson, his entire body trembling as he fought back an overwhelming surge of rage.

His good hand clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles turned stark white, and the veins at his temples throbbed violently.

His jaw locked hard, looking as if he were ready to smash the desk in front of them into toothpicks. Yet, with a monumental effort of sheer self-control, he simply spun on and walked out of the room without uttering a single word.

"W—wait!" Indiana yelled.

She made a move to bolt after him, but her mother’s voice boomed through the space again, stopping her cold.

"You, young lady, stay right where you are. I am not done with you!" Mary barked, rising to her feet and driving her index finger straight toward Indiana’s face.

Indiana froze right at the threshold, her breath coming in ragged gasps from a suffocating mix of guilt, shock, and a sudden explosion of fury tearing through her chest.

She snapped her head back, glaring at the woman who gave birth to her with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"WELL, I AM DAMN WELL DONE WITH YOU! YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER!" Indiana screamed at her mother.

Before Mary could even map out a retort, Indiana slammed the heavy door shut with everything she had.

She took off down the hallway,"Hey! Nerd! Stop!" Indiana yelled toward Finnick’s retreating back, which was already halfway down the hall near the rows of gray lockers.

But Finnick had absolutely no intention of dealing with that girl right now.

He was running dangerously low on patience.

His long, heavy strides only quickened, widening the gap and forcing Indiana into a dead sprint just to keep up with him.

Inside his head, his wolf was throwing a fit, howling in a bloodthirsty frenzy for revenge over the humiliation they had just endured.

His instincts twisted, battling a feral urge to pin the girl running behind him to the ground in a rough, heated tangle.

He wanted to dump all that suffocating emotional tension onto Indiana; the lingering mental image of her curves swaying on that stage was driving his inner beast completely insane.

Finnick blinked rapidly, forcing the vision of her out of his head with every ounce of willpower he possessed.

"Finnick Axton, I said stop!"

Indiana lunged forward, her fingers gripping the edge of his denim jacket with a violent yank, forcing him to spin around instantly.

The moment Finnick faced her, Indiana stumbled back a step, her grip slipping away completely. The look in his eyes behind his cracked lenses was completely feral.

She couldn't even begin to gauge the terrifying depth of his anger right now. It felt exactly like peering over the edge of a pitch-black abyss, just waiting to swallow her alive.

"Let go," Finnick hissed in a low, dangerous whisper.

His voice vibrated with a slight tremor, not out of fear, but because he was actively fighting the monster inside him to keep from snapping at the stubborn, unmanageable brat standing right in front of him.

"I... I just want to talk," Indiana panted, her breath hitching. Her usual dominant, arrogant rebel ego instantly shriveled up under the weight of his suffocating, heavy aura of pure intimidation.

"There is nothing to talk about. You got exactly what you wanted, didn't you? Dragging someone else down into the exact same gutter you live in?"

Indiana let out a sharp, offended scoff, her crushing guilt instantly getting pushed aside by her triggered pride.

"I didn’t mean for you to lose your shot at Oxyord!"

Finnick let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, "Right... because your brain obviously lacks the capacity to think that far ahead. You’re just a shallow, self-absorbed girl who thinks the entire damn world revolves around her. I am never accepting your apology, not now, not ever. Now go back to your trashy little bubble. I am completely done with you."

Indiana tilted her chin up, her eyes flashing with defiance as she shot the glare right back at him. "Who said anything about apologizing? It’s not too late. I’m going to fix this. Just watch me," she challenged, her voice ringing loud and clear through the empty corridor.

Finnick stepped closer, his massive, broad frame instantly towering over her and cutting off most of her view.

"Really? How?" he scoffed, folding his good arm over his chest with a look of supreme skepticism.

"On the next quiz, I’m going to pull a C+." Indiana crossed her arms over her chest, trying to sound completely confident even though that grade would literally take a miracle for her to achieve.

"Not enough. I want a B+. And that’s me being incredibly considerate," Finnick shot back without a second thought, his eyes narrowing behind his fractured glasses.

"That is totally unfair! You’re forgetting that you’re the reason I just got fired from my gig!" Indiana took a sharp step forward until her boots were almost touching his.

"I took a massive hit too, but you don't see me sulking around like a baby! So why don't you act like a gentleman and admit that you certainly just want to see me fail here?"

Finnick let out a harsh, irritated grunt, cutting his eyes away for a brief second before locking his piercing gaze back onto her.

"Fine. A straight B is my absolute limit. If you pull that off, then maybe we can talk," he decided, his tone final and leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation.