The Alpha's Hatred

Punishment

Why do I do this to myself?

I coughed, blowing over a dust-covered book and checking the title. Nope, this wasn't it. Moving to the next book, I did the same, only to feel a burn in my nose and sneeze like a patient with allergies. My skin was itching non-stop, and my mouth felt like I swallowed a bowl of dirt.

But I couldn't stop. It was the first phase of my punishment no matter how unfair that was, and I had no say in it. Though I was also grateful to him for heeding to my pleas and not making me go to the dean.

I hadn't told anyone about it yet. Of course not my mom, and not even my friends. They were already extra worried regarding the past events that circled around me. They even went as far as hunting down the guy who uploaded the picture and possibly started the rumor, and going to his house at midnight to have him remove it. But it was done way before they arrived, and for some reason, the guy appeared terrified out of his wits, like he had seen a ghost or had death chase him down. He never said what happened, but he did apologize. Perhaps, his guilty conscience finally spoke up and won. Though not sure about the scared part which was strange.

I breathed deep to let out a sigh only to realize I inhaled a lungful of dust. A fit of cough shook my entire body, and I gagged in the process. God...

Pulling my shirt over my nose, I continued my search for the requested— wrong, ordered books in the abandoned part of the college library. I wondered why they cast this room aside when there were still books in it. But then my eyes fell on the torn piles of books in the corner and unusable furniture. They made it into a store room for forgotten things.

Poor books.

After a twenty minutes search and a bath in grime, I finally had the five books in my hands.

With one last sneeze, I hurried out of the room and ran back to the professor's office while having people eye me weirdly. I didn't have the time to investigate since I already spent more than allotted. It was ten minutes at most whereas I used twenty. Not my fault though. The books in there weren't catalogued. Or in good shape.

Reaching the dreaded lair, I knocked on the door and opened it. "May I come in, Professor?"

He sat behind his desk, his large body taking up the entirety of the leather chair in an impeccable posture exuding confidence and control. One hand pressed against his ear as he spoke into his phone while the other rose, putting up one long finger in a signal for me to wait.

I did as told and stood there, discreetly scratching my arms and neck so as not to appear ill-mannered. But I couldn't help the sniffle which made him finally look up, dark eyes scanning me in an once-over and ceasing somewhere beneath my face. His brows dipped infinitesimally, but I couldn't read the emotions in his face—if there was any, anyway. Although, the subtle way the corners of his lips curled in the next moment, I knew exactly what it was. Satisfaction.

I followed his gaze, and my eyes almost fell out of their sockets. My bare skin was all red and swollen from when I scratched at it. Not just that. My white shirt was now brown from dust stains in places. I probably looked like I just stepped out of a war zone.

But what had me confused was that the professor was satisfied to see me like this. Why?

Whatever it was, it was gone as fast as it came, leaving me even more puzzled. Now, I felt like I was imagining things all over again.

Breathing deeply and clearing my head, I approached him with a smile. "Here, Professor" I sniffled, sliding the books across his rich, dark wood desk.

He glanced at them and back at me, and slowly reached out, pushing the top four books with his index finger back towards me. "Return these," he said.