Bethany Cody Reynolds
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 4
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The morning sun filtered through the canopy of trees lining the quiet street in Havenridge, casting long shadows on the pavement as Bethany Cody Reynolds—known to everyone who mattered as Rex—stepped out of her modest two-story house. At 16, Rex was a force of nature compressed into a 5'7" frame of pure, sculpted muscle. Her short, tousled dark brown hair caught the light, framing a face that was sharp and striking, with warm brown eyes that could shift from playful mischief to predatory glare in an instant. Her skin glowed with that deep, golden-orange bronze fake tan she maintained religiously. Today, she wore her signature style: a cropped lime-green hoodie that ended just below her flat chest, exposing her insanely shredded midriff—an eight-pack etched like marble, flanked by razor-sharp obliques. Low-rise ripped blue jeans hugged her powerful legs, a studded black belt cinched at her narrow waist, and her manicured nails—short, polished black—fidgeted absently with the silver snarling wolf-head piercing in her navel.
She slammed the front door behind her, her heavy sneakers thudding against the steps, already mentally gearing up for another day of dominance at Havenridge High. But as she reached the sidewalk, her eyes narrowed at the familiar figure waiting there, leaning casually against a lamppost.
Adrian. Her "Mutt," as she called him. Tall at 6'2", with a body that screamed hours in the gym—broad shoulders, thick arms veined like ropes, a chest that strained against his tight white T-shirt, and legs that filled out his athletic shorts perfectly. He was muscular and well-built, sexy in a way that turned heads, but there was something slightly feminine and androgynous about him, especially on the inside. His blond hair was styled in a soft, wavy undercut, his blue eyes sparkled with a gentle, almost puppy-like devotion, and his features had a refined delicacy that contrasted his brute strength. He was the captain of the football team and chess club, a bodybuilder who competed in regional shows, and a straight-A student in advanced physics and math. But to Rex, he was her loyal shadow, her second-in-command in "The Pack."
"Morning, Rex," Adrian said with a warm smile, pushing off the lamppost and falling into step beside her as she started walking. His voice was smooth, with a hint of that androgynous softness that made him seem approachable, even endearing—though no one in their right mind would test that with him.
Rex rolled her eyes, her bronze skin flushing slightly with irritation—or was it something else? "What the hell are you doing here again, Mutt? Every damn morning, like a lost puppy whining at my door. You think I need a babysitter? I should punch that pretty face of yours until you learn to stay put." Her tone was sharp, laced with contempt, and she flexed her fist threateningly, her bicep popping under the sleeve of her hoodie. Deep down, though, a thrill ran through her. She loved it—the way he waited faithfully, like she was the center of his universe. It fed her narcissism, her greed for control. No one else in the Pack had the guts to show up like this, and it made her feel powerful, desired in a way she craved but never admitted.
Adrian chuckled softly to himself, not rising to the bait. He knew her better than that. He could see the flicker in her eyes, the way her posture straightened just a bit when he was around. She loved having him as her loyal puppy, even if she'd never say it. And he was happy to play the role, especially since the rest of the Pack was convinced Rex was a lesbian—too tough, too masculine, too uninterested in their subtle advances. Adrian knew better; he'd caught those rare glimpses of her secret side, the hints she dropped that screamed otherwise. His loyalty would pay off, he was sure. One day, she'd make him her official boyfriend, and he couldn't wait for that moment. For now, he just grinned. "Wouldn't dream of letting you walk alone, boss. Besides, who else is gonna carry your ego if it gets too heavy?"
They walked side by side toward Havenridge High, the coastal breeze carrying a faint salty tang that Rex barely noticed. Adrian kept up a steady stream of praise, inflating her ego like it was his full-time job. "You crushed that math olympiad last week—heard the judges were still talking about how you solved that differential equation in half the time. And that swim meet? Your freestyle was untouchable. Fastest time in the district. Hell, even your punches look like art. Remember that kid from last month? One hit, and he was out. You're a legend, Rex."
"Shut your trap, Mutt," Rex snapped, though her lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. "I don't need your yapping to know I'm better than everyone." But secretly, she soaked it up like a sponge. She was an attention whore through and through—every compliment, every awed glance, every whisper of her name fueled her. It made her feel alive, superior, like the she-wolf she tattooed on her body in secret runes. Adrian's words were like honey, and she craved more, even as she ordered him silent.
In the hallway, lockers slamming shut as students cleared a path, Rex zeroed in on a scrawny nerd with glasses, buried in a textbook. She slammed her palm against his locker, looming over him. "Hand over your lunch money, geek. Now."
The nerd fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills without hesitation. "H-here, Rex. Take it." His hands shook, eyes wide with terror.
Rex snatched it, counting quickly. Decent haul, but she felt a twinge of disappointment. She'd wanted an excuse to punch someone, to feel bones yield under her knuckles. But this? Too easy. Not worth the effort. She shoved him aside roughly and kept walking, Adrian smirking beside her.
Then, trouble. One of the cheerleaders—a perky blonde named Mia, all pom-poms and attitude—stepped in front of them, arms crossed. She'd been targeted before but apparently grew a spine overnight. "Back off, Rex. We're not giving you anything today. And honestly, with that flat chest of yours, you don't even need a bra. Nothing to hold up, right?"
The hallway went deathly quiet. Rex's face twisted in rage—her flat chest was her ultimate trigger, a sore spot from years of training that had stripped away any feminine curves. Without thinking, she lunged, her fist connecting with Mia's jaw in a crack that echoed. Mia staggered, but Rex didn't stop. She grabbed the cheerleader by the hair, slamming her against a locker, kneeing her in the gut, then delivering a flurry of punches to her ribs. "You think you're funny, bitch? I'll show you flat—when I flatten your face!" Rex snarled, her voice deep and masculine in her fury, humiliating Mia with slaps and shoves, forcing her to the ground and stomping on her pom-pom.
Students gasped, some fleeing, but no one intervened—until Adrian stepped in. He wrapped his arms around Rex from behind, his muscular frame gently but firmly pulling her back. "Easy, Rex. She's done. You kill her, and even our grades won't save us." His voice was calm, soothing, that androgynous softness cutting through her red haze. Deep down, Rex appreciated it—he was the only one who could reel her in without getting decked.
Panting, Rex shoved him off but relented, spitting on the whimpering Mia. "Next time, I'll end you." They left the scene, Rex's blood still pumping with adrenaline-fueled satisfaction.
They headed to the Pack's secret lair: the abandoned gym at the school's far end. It wasn't truly abandoned—Rex had sweet-talked (or intimidated) the PE teacher into giving her the keys, claiming she needed a private space for her bodybuilding and swimming prep. Now, it was their club: well-maintained equipment, mats for wrestling, weights for lifting, a space to plot crimes undisturbed.
Adrian opened the door for her with a flourish, like a gentleman ushering royalty. "After you, boss."
Inside, the rest of the Pack waited, the air thick with sweat and iron. Some were mid-workout: pumping iron on benches, grunting through reps. All six were bodybuilders, gorgeous and shredded—elite athletes and gifted students, mirrors of Rex's cruelty but submissive to her alone. They secretly enjoyed her control, the thrill of a superior girl dominating them.
Connor ("Runt"), the fiery redhead with explosive powerlifting form, was spotting Alexander ("Fang"), the dark-haired math whiz mid-bench press. Tyler ("Howler"), lean and charismatic, a biology/chemistry genius, shadowboxed in the corner. Axel ("Bane"), brooding and massive, a wrestling beast with science smarts, curled dumbbells. Ko Kyeong Jun ("Scrap"), sleek Korean martial artist and all-around prodigy, stretched on a mat.
They straightened at her entrance, faces lighting up. "Rex!" they chorused, genuine happiness in their voices. Unbeknownst to her, while waiting, they'd been gossiping: "She's the perfect woman—strong, smart, hot as hell," Connor had said. "Yeah, but she's a total lesbian. Frustrating as shit," Tyler replied, the others nodding in agreement.
Rex entered haughtily, perching on a leg press machine like a throne, legs spread in masculine dominance. "Morning, pups. What've you got for me?"
They approached eagerly, each pulling out envelopes of cash—percentages from their extortions. "Here's your cut, Rex," Alexander said, handing over a thick stack.
She counted it meticulously, the pile impressive—hundreds from shaken-down students. But she frowned, ever the tyrant. "This all? Pathetic. You call yourselves wolves? Step it up, or I'll make examples of you." Her complaints were ritual, hiding her satisfaction at the haul.
Settling in, she outlined plans: "That idiot from bio who glanced at me wrong? We're jumping him after lunch. Petty? Yeah, but he needs to learn. And I've got an idea for boosting some tech from the AV room—easy cash flip." They discussed tactics animatedly—ambushes, alibis—her wit shining in sharp, offensive quips.
How she become powerful?
She slammed the front door behind her, her heavy sneakers thudding against the steps, already mentally gearing up for another day of dominance at Havenridge High. But as she reached the sidewalk, her eyes narrowed at the familiar figure waiting there, leaning casually against a lamppost.
Adrian. Her "Mutt," as she called him. Tall at 6'2", with a body that screamed hours in the gym—broad shoulders, thick arms veined like ropes, a chest that strained against his tight white T-shirt, and legs that filled out his athletic shorts perfectly. He was muscular and well-built, sexy in a way that turned heads, but there was something slightly feminine and androgynous about him, especially on the inside. His blond hair was styled in a soft, wavy undercut, his blue eyes sparkled with a gentle, almost puppy-like devotion, and his features had a refined delicacy that contrasted his brute strength. He was the captain of the football team and chess club, a bodybuilder who competed in regional shows, and a straight-A student in advanced physics and math. But to Rex, he was her loyal shadow, her second-in-command in "The Pack."
"Morning, Rex," Adrian said with a warm smile, pushing off the lamppost and falling into step beside her as she started walking. His voice was smooth, with a hint of that androgynous softness that made him seem approachable, even endearing—though no one in their right mind would test that with him.
Rex rolled her eyes, her bronze skin flushing slightly with irritation—or was it something else? "What the hell are you doing here again, Mutt? Every damn morning, like a lost puppy whining at my door. You think I need a babysitter? I should punch that pretty face of yours until you learn to stay put." Her tone was sharp, laced with contempt, and she flexed her fist threateningly, her bicep popping under the sleeve of her hoodie. Deep down, though, a thrill ran through her. She loved it—the way he waited faithfully, like she was the center of his universe. It fed her narcissism, her greed for control. No one else in the Pack had the guts to show up like this, and it made her feel powerful, desired in a way she craved but never admitted.
Adrian chuckled softly to himself, not rising to the bait. He knew her better than that. He could see the flicker in her eyes, the way her posture straightened just a bit when he was around. She loved having him as her loyal puppy, even if she'd never say it. And he was happy to play the role, especially since the rest of the Pack was convinced Rex was a lesbian—too tough, too masculine, too uninterested in their subtle advances. Adrian knew better; he'd caught those rare glimpses of her secret side, the hints she dropped that screamed otherwise. His loyalty would pay off, he was sure. One day, she'd make him her official boyfriend, and he couldn't wait for that moment. For now, he just grinned. "Wouldn't dream of letting you walk alone, boss. Besides, who else is gonna carry your ego if it gets too heavy?"
They walked side by side toward Havenridge High, the coastal breeze carrying a faint salty tang that Rex barely noticed. Adrian kept up a steady stream of praise, inflating her ego like it was his full-time job. "You crushed that math olympiad last week—heard the judges were still talking about how you solved that differential equation in half the time. And that swim meet? Your freestyle was untouchable. Fastest time in the district. Hell, even your punches look like art. Remember that kid from last month? One hit, and he was out. You're a legend, Rex."
"Shut your trap, Mutt," Rex snapped, though her lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. "I don't need your yapping to know I'm better than everyone." But secretly, she soaked it up like a sponge. She was an attention whore through and through—every compliment, every awed glance, every whisper of her name fueled her. It made her feel alive, superior, like the she-wolf she tattooed on her body in secret runes. Adrian's words were like honey, and she craved more, even as she ordered him silent.
In the hallway, lockers slamming shut as students cleared a path, Rex zeroed in on a scrawny nerd with glasses, buried in a textbook. She slammed her palm against his locker, looming over him. "Hand over your lunch money, geek. Now."
The nerd fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills without hesitation. "H-here, Rex. Take it." His hands shook, eyes wide with terror.
Rex snatched it, counting quickly. Decent haul, but she felt a twinge of disappointment. She'd wanted an excuse to punch someone, to feel bones yield under her knuckles. But this? Too easy. Not worth the effort. She shoved him aside roughly and kept walking, Adrian smirking beside her.
Then, trouble. One of the cheerleaders—a perky blonde named Mia, all pom-poms and attitude—stepped in front of them, arms crossed. She'd been targeted before but apparently grew a spine overnight. "Back off, Rex. We're not giving you anything today. And honestly, with that flat chest of yours, you don't even need a bra. Nothing to hold up, right?"
The hallway went deathly quiet. Rex's face twisted in rage—her flat chest was her ultimate trigger, a sore spot from years of training that had stripped away any feminine curves. Without thinking, she lunged, her fist connecting with Mia's jaw in a crack that echoed. Mia staggered, but Rex didn't stop. She grabbed the cheerleader by the hair, slamming her against a locker, kneeing her in the gut, then delivering a flurry of punches to her ribs. "You think you're funny, bitch? I'll show you flat—when I flatten your face!" Rex snarled, her voice deep and masculine in her fury, humiliating Mia with slaps and shoves, forcing her to the ground and stomping on her pom-pom.
Students gasped, some fleeing, but no one intervened—until Adrian stepped in. He wrapped his arms around Rex from behind, his muscular frame gently but firmly pulling her back. "Easy, Rex. She's done. You kill her, and even our grades won't save us." His voice was calm, soothing, that androgynous softness cutting through her red haze. Deep down, Rex appreciated it—he was the only one who could reel her in without getting decked.
Panting, Rex shoved him off but relented, spitting on the whimpering Mia. "Next time, I'll end you." They left the scene, Rex's blood still pumping with adrenaline-fueled satisfaction.
They headed to the Pack's secret lair: the abandoned gym at the school's far end. It wasn't truly abandoned—Rex had sweet-talked (or intimidated) the PE teacher into giving her the keys, claiming she needed a private space for her bodybuilding and swimming prep. Now, it was their club: well-maintained equipment, mats for wrestling, weights for lifting, a space to plot crimes undisturbed.
Adrian opened the door for her with a flourish, like a gentleman ushering royalty. "After you, boss."
Inside, the rest of the Pack waited, the air thick with sweat and iron. Some were mid-workout: pumping iron on benches, grunting through reps. All six were bodybuilders, gorgeous and shredded—elite athletes and gifted students, mirrors of Rex's cruelty but submissive to her alone. They secretly enjoyed her control, the thrill of a superior girl dominating them.
Connor ("Runt"), the fiery redhead with explosive powerlifting form, was spotting Alexander ("Fang"), the dark-haired math whiz mid-bench press. Tyler ("Howler"), lean and charismatic, a biology/chemistry genius, shadowboxed in the corner. Axel ("Bane"), brooding and massive, a wrestling beast with science smarts, curled dumbbells. Ko Kyeong Jun ("Scrap"), sleek Korean martial artist and all-around prodigy, stretched on a mat.
They straightened at her entrance, faces lighting up. "Rex!" they chorused, genuine happiness in their voices. Unbeknownst to her, while waiting, they'd been gossiping: "She's the perfect woman—strong, smart, hot as hell," Connor had said. "Yeah, but she's a total lesbian. Frustrating as shit," Tyler replied, the others nodding in agreement.
Rex entered haughtily, perching on a leg press machine like a throne, legs spread in masculine dominance. "Morning, pups. What've you got for me?"
They approached eagerly, each pulling out envelopes of cash—percentages from their extortions. "Here's your cut, Rex," Alexander said, handing over a thick stack.
She counted it meticulously, the pile impressive—hundreds from shaken-down students. But she frowned, ever the tyrant. "This all? Pathetic. You call yourselves wolves? Step it up, or I'll make examples of you." Her complaints were ritual, hiding her satisfaction at the haul.
Settling in, she outlined plans: "That idiot from bio who glanced at me wrong? We're jumping him after lunch. Petty? Yeah, but he needs to learn. And I've got an idea for boosting some tech from the AV room—easy cash flip." They discussed tactics animatedly—ambushes, alibis—her wit shining in sharp, offensive quips.
How she become powerful?
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June 13
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