I made a beeline for my locker, hoping I could quickly grab the money I had conveniently forgotten in my jacket pocket to buy lunch with.

I had already taken the precaution of putting all of my books and folders in my backpack, so I wouldn't have to return to my locker and run the chance of Mason cornering me at my locker. Yes, it'd probably give my back problems, but I'd rather have a bad back for the rest of my life than have to talk to him. I was hoping this Monday would be psycho-alpha free. I had been "safe" (not really, completely, safe - but I didn't think Mason would want a giant confrontation in the hallway) a few minutes when I had been with Scott, because he went to my locker with me (so we could walk to lunch together. You know, couple stuff).

Now if I could just - shit. I could hear a heartbeat slowly getting louder, and I knew without a doubt exactly who it was. There was no use in running, since he was so lose already, so I just shoved my ten dollar bill into my pocket with a little more force than was necessary.

"Made up your mind?" Mason said as he leaned up against the locker next to mine, like we were about to have a casual conversation.

"Yeah, and it definitely doesn't include you," I said, trying to walk around him, so I could make it to the stairs. If I could just get down to the cafeteria, I'd been in the safe zone; my pack was in there. No way he would pull this with all of them within hearing and watching range - or anyone else, for that matter. "End of discussion."

But he turned and pined me against the locker, hands on the blue-painted metal on either side of my head. I just looked anywhere but at him.

"I'm shocked!" he said with mock surprise. "What would your mother say?"

I unintentionally half-balled my fists at the mention of my mother, and he smiled, knowing he hit a nerve.

"Oh, really, it is a shame she couldn't be here. Sadly, someone lacks a little self control-"

And that's when I lost it. I snapped my head forward to face him head-on, my eyes flaring blue.

"Shut up. Just shut the hell up."

"What are you going to do about it, little beta?" he asked, leaning forward. "Run and cry to your mommy - oh, that's right, you can't."

I felt my canines growing and my nails lengthening. Shit, this shouldn't be happening. I need to control this, or else all of my training with Scott would've been for nothing - but the thing was, I didn't want to. I wanted to rip and claw his face off, and I didn't care what the consequences would be. My hand twitched slightly at my side, ready to sweep out and hit Mason anywhere, really. But before I could even raise my arm six inches, he grabbed hold of my wrist, gripping it tightly.

"Now, now, we wouldn't want you to do that here, would we?" He tightened his already incredibly tight grip and flicked his wrist, effectively breaking the bones in my wrist. I inhaled sharply and my wolf features retracted. I had moved slightly forward, and was almost pressing my head to his chest, nearly falling to the floor due to the force he used to break several of my bones.

"Go straight to hell," I said through gritted teeth, holding my newly broken and slowly healing wrist.

"Only if I get to see you there," he purred, using the back his hand to stroke the side of my face, fingers trailing across my cheek. Oh god, I really wish I would've just stayed in the cafeteria without any food, or at least brought someone with me. It was a stupid mistake, and it ended up getting me harassed by Mason, who I would now declare officially batshit insane. "Now let's try that again," he grabbed my chin and yanked my head upwards, so we were looking eye-to-eye. "Have you made up your mind?"

I really wanted to just spit in his face, but I decided that he'd probably just rip my jaw right out of my head.

But thank gods I don't believe in, because Scott appeared, practically from thin air. I managed to break out of Mason's grip and practically tackled Scott, even though he was no more than a foot away. I slunk into his shoulder, trying to get as far away from Mason as I possibly could in such close proximity.

"What's going on here?" Scott asked in manner that was way too casual. He put his arm around me, and I leaned farther into him, still holding my broken-but-healing wrist.

"Oh, nothing," Mason said, shrugging nonchalantly and picking at his nails, "just just having a little chat here with Natalie."

I nearly had a brain aneurysm. Little chat. Little chat. He didn't know the definition of a "little chat". A proper phrase that would be more accurate for the previous situation would be physical injury and psychological warfare to manipulate me into joining your psycho ass. Yeah, that's exactly what a little chat is. Definitely.

Definitely sounded like one, I thought to myself. I wasn't sure how much - or if any - of the "little chat" between Mason and I Scott had heard, so I assumed he had nothing to go off of, hearing zero percent of my harassment.

"Be sure to think long and hard about what I have to offer," Mason said, taking half a step backwards like he was going to turn and walk down the hall. But when Scott simply asked, "What offer?" he stopped dead in his tracks.

Mason looked he was going to laugh. If he was capable of anything other than sarcasm and anger, that is.

"You haven't told him? Oh, man, you're a terrible girlfriend and a terrible beta." A flash of confusion crossed Scott's face at the word 'beta'. He wasn't stupid, and he'd figure it out soon enough on his own, if Mason wasn't about to spew his little scheme.

"Shut up," I growled quietly, but it was loud enough for both Scott and Mason to hear.

"You'd be better off in my pack, and with me. Just join willingly, and I won't have to be brought to the option of leaving you with no pack left," he said before adding, "besides mine, of course."

"What is he talking about?" Scott asked me, but before I had the chance to say something, Mason answered Scott's question.

"Natalie is going to join my pack," Mason said, crossing his arms over his chest, lifting his head up slightly like the self-proclaimed asshole he is. "Willingly, or with the absence of your pack. I will personally end both yours and Isaac's lives, Scott -" he said Scott's name like it was in insult, "- and maybe take out those of your non-werewolf pack members, too."

I was glaring daggers at Mason the whole time he was speaking, and continued to do so even after he had finished.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think she'll be joining your pack," Scott said - and I nodded slightly, agreeing with him that I would never in my whole existence, willingly or unwillingly, join Mason's pack - and he flashed his eyes red.

"You wouldn't want to do that here, would you?" Mason asked, but he flashed his own red eyes.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Scott replied, unwavering. It was a threat. If Mason made a move - right now, or anytime ever - Scott would declare war between his own and Mason's packs.

And there they were, staring down, red-eyed, in the hallway. I wasn't too concerned with anyone seeing them doing what they do were doing because: a) people were either at lunch or in class right now, b) the whole population of Beacon Hills seemed to be oblivious to the fact that there were werewolves and god knows how many other supernatural creatures in their town, and c) if someone did see them, they'd try to convince themselves they'd seen something else, because no one wanted to be crazy. Finally, the standoff ended with Mason blinking and taking a step back, in the manner he had done a little bit ago. He swiveled on his heel, walking down the hallway, but not before tossing a, "See you later, Natalie." over his shoulder. The two members of Mason's pack - the blonde girl with short hair and the small brunet boy - joined him once he was farther down the hallway.

Scott turned to me, and I was hoping for hugs and "are you going to be okay?"s, but I knew that wasn't going to be the case. It couldn't hurt to dream.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Scott demanded. I could tell he was a hurt about the fact that I had kept the whole "Mason wants me in his pack and he's going to murder you if I don't join him because he probably could be a classified psychopath if he would've been to a psychiatric ward or to a therapist or something" thing from him.

"It was my problem and I was going to deal with it," I replied in a quiet voice, not looking at him.

"Hey," he said in a softer voice, grabbing my chin lightly and gently pulling my head up, unlike Mason's rough jerk. "Your problems become my problems, Nat. Whether you want them to or not."

"So you're not mad at me? I mean, you can be if you want."

"What? Why would I be mad? I'm a little angry, but not at you."

"This really is all my fault, Scott," I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "My fault because I didn't tell you, my fault because I even met you."

"That's no way-"

"Scott," I said, looking him in the eyes, before taking a breath. "Do you remember when I took a walk in the forest, and your mom had to call you to come and get me because I started panicking?"

Scott shifted on his feet before answering, "yeah."

"It was Mason. When I about to turn back because my flashlight didn't work, I heard rustling noises and saw a pair of eyes. Red eyes. I freaked out, panicked, and called your mom. He saw me as a potential pack member, even though I was dying. He was willing to take the chance that the bite would kill me. But he thinks that I'm rightfully his beta, that you stole me from him, and he wants me back," I said with trembling lips. "It's all my fault, Scott. It's all my fault."

A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE.

I was (and currently am) trying to plan out the rest of the story (because I've mostly been winging it between the plot points I had planned out from the start), along with Something Wicked This Way Comes and a story I plan to do after I've finished with this one, Running With Wolves. (Not to mention school, it has become the source of problems and stress for me lately).

But I know how I'm going to end this story, and I just have to work around a few things to make it run smoothly.

(Also I don't know why but writing Mason being a class-A douchebag to Nat is a very therapeutic experience.)