Chapter 0460

"Because you're an absolute moron." Evander's voice echoes in my mind. "Get closer to her. Switch seats with that girl behind her."

I stand abruptly, grabbing my backpack. "Hey Isabella."

"Hey Grant." She looks up at me with that familiar, sultry smile. Damn it, I didn't think this through. Isabella and I have history, and unlike Ivy, she's never been shy about what she wants from me.

"Mind switching seats with me?" I flash her my most charming grin. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ivy's shoulders tense.

Isabella's expression shifts from eager to confused as she glances at the back of Ivy's head. "Oh...uh, sure."

She gathers her things and brushes past me, her fingers trailing deliberately along my waistband. What used to send heat rushing through me now only irritates me. The last thing I need is Ivy getting the wrong impression. "Maybe I'll see you later?" Isabella murmurs, her hand dipping dangerously low.

"Yeah. Maybe." My reply is stiff with discomfort.

Our instructor walks in just as Isabella takes my old seat. I settle into hers, my attention fixed on Ivy's rigid posture.

Mr. Whitmore launches into a discussion about whatever novel we're supposed to be analyzing. When he turns to write on the board, I lean forward. "Hey Ivy," I whisper. The entire class, including our teacher, is werewolf.

She ignores me. So I reach out and twirl a strand of her silky hair around my finger. It's impossibly soft, and suddenly all I can think about is fisting my hands in it while claiming her mouth.

Ivy snatches her hair back and shoots me a glare over her shoulder. I smirk and do it again.

"Mr. Sinclair, perhaps you could focus less on Miss Sinclair's hair and more on the lesson," Mr. Whitmore calls me out. The class snickers, but I couldn't care less.

"Sorry, sir. But Ivy's hair is...distracting."

"You're a Guardian, Mr. Sinclair. I'm sure you can manage some self-control." He turns back to the board without waiting for a response.

Ivy gathers her hair over one shoulder, shooting me another death glare before facing forward again. Her scent envelops me, making it impossible to concentrate on the lecture. Meanwhile, Ivy remains unaffected, actively participating in the discussion as if I don't exist.

When class ends, Ivy grabs her bag and tries to slip past me. I block her path. "What are you doing after school?"

"Going home." She tilts her chin up to glare at me, her blue eyes blazing. The height difference between us only makes her defiance more adorable.

As she tries to push past me, I remember my original intention. "Alistair and I can drive you and Seraphina home."

She steps back, eyes narrowing. "No thanks. Now move."

I lean down, invading her space. "What if I don't?"

In a heartbeat, the tables turn. One second I'm in control—the next, I'm at her mercy. Without hesitation, her hand snakes out and grips me painfully tight. "If you don't," she hisses, twisting just enough to make me wince, "I'll make sure you and Isabella have a very disappointing evening. MOVE."

I step aside instantly.

She storms out without a backward glance.

'Smooth, idiot. You just pissed off our mate. Fix this!' Evander growls in my head.

'Got any brilliant suggestions?' I snap back.

'Stop trying to force her and actually make her like you.'

Easier said than done.