Chapter 8: Point System

Violet stormed down the hallway in huge strides, as if the devil himself were right on her heels. Given what she’d just experienced, he might as well have been. Not even the time she was nearly choked to death rattled her as much as that weirdo did. And the worst part? He hadn’t even done much. Yet somehow, that little bit was enough to make her realize she’d made a colossal mistake coming here.

He didn’t do much after calling her, what was it again? Purple flower? Ugh. What did he think she was? Some helpless damsel in distress? But it was his next statement that really sent ice through her veins.

“Trust me, I can’t wait to see you in bed too.”

With that, he left, but the chill he left behind clung to her like frost. Worse, it was the way he’d looked at her—hungrily—as if she were covered in thick, mouthwatering chocolate, and he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into her.

Yeah, no. That was definitely not happening.

It was probably nothing, Violet tried to tell herself. Just a bored, psychopathic alpha getting a thrill from seeing a helpless human on her knees or something. But no matter how hard she tried to brush it off, a nagging feeling gnawed at her insides. There was something at play here. Something she wasn’t fully aware of, but could feel it.

After all, what were the odds that she’d bump into a guy who turned out to be a thief, then got manhandled by another, only to meet the last creepy, disturbingly handsome one in quick succession? This wasn’t just a coincidence; it felt orchestrated. Her instincts, honed by years of surviving in rough places, screamed that something was off. And deep down, she knew.

Surely, applications to this school were approved by the administration, not students, right? Because if students had any say in who was admitted, she was royally screwed.

Violet shook her head to dispel the thought. What was she even thinking? Of course, the principal approved the applications, not random students. And she was about to meet that very principal. The one who had read her very COLORFUL application form.

A blush crept up her cheeks at the thoughts. At least now, she might finally learn why she’d been accepted even though her submission had been… far from ideal.

By the time she reached the principal’s office, Violet’s neck was throbbing with a hot, angry pain. She had been rubbing that spot for a while now, it was too painful to ignore.

She knocked on the door and heard a “come in.” from the inside.

Principal Jameson’s office was a world apart from the cramped, cluttered space Violet had known at her former school. It was so spacious, she could easily imagine spreading a bed and still having enough room to go about her duties.

The decor was sleek and polished, giving off an air of sophistication. The desk, positioned at the center of the room, was immaculate. Only a name tag, a modern laptop, a small flower pot, and a few neatly stacked files occupied the surface. Compared to the document chaos of her old principal’s office, this was the epitome of order and elegance.

Principal Jameson was quite a stunning woman and she smiled up at her as soon as their eyes met. “Welcome, Violet…..” her expression faltered the next seconds when she saw the angry red mark.

In the twinkle of an eye, the principal had shot up to her feet, closing the space between them with horror etched on her face.

“Who did this to you?” she demanded, her voice laced with concern.

For the first time since she arrived, Violet felt a spark of vindication. Finally, someone was going to do something about that brute.

Without wasting time, Violet narrated the whole encounter, precisely describing the red-haired werewolf in detail, but as she spoke, she noticed the principal’s expression shifting from anger to something far more unsettling: fear.

“You mean Griffin Hale did this to you?”

“Griffin Hale? Is that his name?” she asked. It was quite a nice name.

“Miss Purple,” the principal began, her tone far more cautious, “I understand you’re upset, but what happened was likely just… playful roughhousing. Things here are different from your former school and while it can get a bit intense, but it’s all in good fun.”

At once, Violet’s expression shifted, her fury boiled over. Playful roughhousing? He had nearly killed her!

“Principal Jameson, Griffin Hale nealy —” She was about to argue, but there was something in the principal’s eyes, a flicker of fear or perhaps a silent warning that made her pause.

Unwilling to clash with the school authority on her first day, Violet swallowed her retort, but not her anger. If the principal wouldn’t pursue this matter, then one way or another, she would take matters into her own hands and make sure that red-haired brute paid.

Although Violet had no idea how she would get revenge against a creature who could snap her in two, she would find a way. She always did.

“I’m sorry you had such an awful experience, Miss Purple, but trust me, the boys aren’t always like this. Just think of it as a guy pulling on a girl’s ponytail to get her attention.” Principal Jameson said.

In that case, Why don’t they pull your ponytail as well? Violet wanted to retort but managed to calm herself.

Although If the principal was managing such “wild beasts” in this school, Violet bet they’ve pulled her ponytails so many times.

“I’ll have Mary come over. She would take you to the infirmary to get the injury sorted. Class is almost over for the day, so you can resume tomorrow,” Principal Jameson said, walking over to her desk and picking up the telephone, made a call to the so-called mary.

Violet stood awkwardly, unsure whether to sit as the principal hadn’t yet invited her to. She did her best to ignore the conversation the woman was having on the phone, her eyes wandering around the room instead, absorbing the elegant décor.

Moments later, the call ended, and Principal Jameson’s attention shifted back.

“You can sit, Violet. Your student guide will be here shortly.” She gestured toward the chair across from her desk.

Violet hesitated before sitting down, her posture tense as she faced the principal, who radiated an air of formality and professionalism.

“I understand that things here are quite different from your previous school,” the principal began.

“Definitely,” Violet responded, her tone carrying a noticeable edge of bitterness, still fuming over the earlier assault and the principal’s apparent inaction. What Violet didn’t realize yet was that Principal Jameson, like everyone else in the academy, was just a puppet dancing to the strings of a hidden puppet master.

If Principal Jameson noticed Violet’s tone, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she continued, “The term began on September fifth, and you’re nearly two weeks behind. However, after reviewing your records, it’s clear you’re a bright student, so I have no doubt you’ll catch up with the curriculum. Unlike other institutions, Lunaris Academy doesn’t just produce efficient students, it ensures they leave with a well-rounded future by the time they graduate.”

“Yep, through your matchmaking skills,” Violet quipped inwardly.

“At the same time, Lunaris Academy thrives on excellence and discipline. Your student guide should have been the one to tell you this but since she’s not here yet I’ll break it down for you. This might not have been practiced in your formal school but we run a point system here.”

Violet’s brow raised, hinting at her curiosity.

“As you may already know, many of our recent graduates go on to become key figures in our society, particularly human females who are paired with powerful werewolf mates. The relationships that begin within these walls frequently lead to marriage, as seen in the case of the Werewolf King and his human queen, along with other prominent alphas who have followed his example. To foster the best possible matches, each student is ranked within their year and assigned a point tally, reflecting their overall performance and compatibility.”

Principal Jameson’s eyes were fixed on Violet, and when she was sure Violet was paying close attention, she continued, “Points are earned through academic achievement, leadership in extracurriculars, and contributions to both school and community life. There’s also a popularity ranking, which, in some cases, can affect your overall point tally. You’ll learn more about that as you get to know your peers. However, any behavior that falls below the high standards of Lunaris Academy will result in point deductions. And teachers have full authority to award or revoke points at their discretion, so tread carefully—”

Violet raised her hand abruptly, cutting the woman off.

“What is it, Violet? Are you confused about something?” Principal Jameson’s voice was noticeably strained, clearly not used to being interrupted. This was someone who liked to maintain control.

Violet, bold as ever, asked, ” So I’m curious, would Griffin Hale lose points for assaulting me? And how many points exactly will be deducted?”

The question took Principal Jameson by surprise. Her expression faltered for a moment before she regained composure, clearing her throat. “Miss Purple, you’re currently at the bottom of the rankings, so you should be more concerned with improving—”

“How many points?” Violet pressed, her voice sweet but with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Or is it that you never intended to punish him at all? Surely Lunaris doesn’t endorse assault, right? That wouldn’t be good for the school’s reputation.”

Violet knew that she was pushing her luck here and from the way the woman’s face had darkened, she might have made an enemy out of her.

“Five hundred points. Griffin Hale will lose five hundred points for the incident. Is that satisfactory?”

Violet frowned slightly. She wasn’t sure what the value of five hundred points meant, but it sounded significant enough.

“Yes, that works for me,” she replied, though the tension between them had thickened to the point of suffocating.

Just then, Mary, her student guide, arrived—perfect timing.

“I’m here, Principal Jameson,” Mary announced, as Violet quickly stood, eager to leave.

After a brief exchange between the two, it was time to go. But before Violet could step out the door, Principal Jameson’s voice rang out again, “Violet Purple.”

Violet turned, meeting the woman’s gaze without flinching.

“Good luck,” Principal Jameson said, her words carrying an ominous weight. “You’ll need it out there.”

Violet swallowed hard. The warning hung heavy in the air, and she knew, deep down, there was truth in those words.

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