His Possession

9: Worried friends

"There's nothing like a really loyal, dependable, good friend."
***
"You're devouring your food like you haven't eaten in days," Nova chuckled, her tone lighthearted.

"It's just so delicious," I moaned in pleasure, savouring every bite. "The only redeeming aspect of staying here is the food," I confided, enthusiastically spearing a crispy sausage with my fork.

"It's intriguing how food can easily shift your mood. Just a few moments ago, you were fuming about not being able to leave," Nova observed, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I'm still angry, but for now, I'm channelling my focus into the one thing that fills both my heart and my stomach—food," I replied, my voice tinged with resignation.

"Do you truly believe that food is the only thing that can satisfy your heart?" Nova probed, her curiosity evident.

"Well, what else is there?" I asked, puzzled by her question.

Before Nova could respond, a girl with vibrant green eyes and blond hair interrupted us.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," she greeted us cheerfully.

"Um, hello," I replied awkwardly, taken aback by her directness.

"Are you Mr. Woods' daughter?" Lucy inquired without hesitation.

"Yes," I answered, taking a sip of my apple juice.

"Oh, that means you'll be the next alpha," she exclaimed excitedly, prompting the nearby onlookers to lean in, awaiting my response.

"I suppose so," I replied, offering a hesitant smile.

"How exhilarating! You'll have your own pack," Lucy gushed, her energy infectious. I couldn't help but find her adorable.

"Lucy, a human can't possibly lead a pack, especially a female human," a guy with spiky blue hair interjected, smirking. "She wouldn't last a day."

I turned towards him, unleashing a glare that could make an old man weep.

"Firstly, it's the twenty-first century, where men and women are equals. So, stop being sexist; we're not living in the damn 50s. Secondly, I'm confident that I can find examples of packs led by women if I dig deeper. Thirdly, what's wrong with humans? You're acting as if you're some sort of deity. Last time I checked, it was humans who forced your kind into hiding. And finally, no one asked for your opinion, so I'd appreciate it if you kept your disgusting, sexist thoughts to yourself. And the next time you feel compelled to express your unwanted opinions, kindly ensure that your breath doesn't smell worse than a dog's," I exploded with frustration.

"Why, you little—" Dylan began, but Blake swiftly intervened.

"Dylan, sit down!" he ordered sternly, causing the sexist blue-haired man to begrudgingly comply while sending me spiteful glares.

"Let's finish our meal," Nova suggested, diverting my attention from Blake and the tense atmosphere.

"No, I've lost my appetite," I declared, standing up and casting a glance at Dylan. Oh, how I longed to deliver a punch to his face.

Nova followed me as we stormed out of the now silent dining hall. Although I hadn't been able to savour the rest of my delicious breakfast, at least I left with a touch of style.

"Well, that was quite an eventful breakfast," Nova commented awkwardly once we had distanced ourselves from the dining hall.

"It only reinforces my desire to return home," I groaned, my irritation palpable.

"That was quite the spectacle you put on. You definitely know how to make things interesting," a familiar voice remarked, filled with amusement.

I turned around to find none other than Mr. Not My Type, Tyson.