The Alpha’s Temptation (Night Grove Falls: The Alphas #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

Selena

I swear I know this room better than my own. I’ve been in my best friend, Penny’s, bedroom probably five times a week since I was six. We used to hang out here to do our homework. We had sleepovers, our first fight, and more movie nights and spa days than I can remember in this room.

“Want me to do your nails?” Penny asks as she grabs the large container of nail polish from the top shelf in her closet.

“No, not today. Mine is still good from last week.”

She nods and rifles through all the colors. I sprawl on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as I daydream.

I moved to Night Grove Falls when I was six with my parents, and it’s been my home ever since.

I remember being upset about the move at first. I had just lost my grandma, and my parents were making us move away from everything I knew. I was devastated and furious with them.

My parents swore the move would be a good thing. They promised they wouldn’t have to work as much, so they would be home to play with me more. They promised me I would make new friends.

One of those promises came true.

It was moving-in day when a girl with honey-brown hair in two messy braids, skinned knees, and a grin like a dare bounced up to me. I was sitting on our front porch, bored and lonely, as my parents hauled in boxes, and she appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m Penny,” she announced, like a proclamation. “You’re new.”

“I’m Selena,” I said, shy but not enough to miss making a new friend. “I like your braids.”

“Mom did one and I did the other,” she told me proudly. “Want to see the river?”

I glanced back at my parents carrying boxes into the old house and gave my mom a hopeful smile. “Can I?”

“Twenty minutes,” she said.

And that was it. Penny grabbed my hand like she’d been expecting it all along and tugged me down the street, our sandals slapping rhythmically on the dirt path. We cut behind the general store and a barbershop with a spinning red-white-blue pole and through a break in the hedges.

The river was shallow, cold, and full of tadpoles. We squatted in the mud and named them. When I slipped on algae and fell with a splash, Penny didn’t laugh. She held out a hand to haul me up and asked me, solemn as a Sunday prayer, “Wanna be my best friend?”

“Yes,” I whispered, feeling lucky to have been chosen by her. “You can be mine, too.”

From that day on, we were as thick as thieves.

I met her brother a few days later at a town festival, and once again, my life was changed by one of the Miller siblings.

“Foster!” Penny yelled, using lungs that powered her voice like a megaphone. “Come meet Selena!”

He was tall and lanky for a teenager, with black hair that reminded me of the night sky.

He had a calm presence even back then, and eyes that seemed to see everything.

I remember that his t-shirt had a small tear near the collar and his shoes were all scuffed up, like he’d been running through the forest.

“This is my best friend,” Penny said as if that were the only credential I needed. “She fell in the river and didn’t cry.”

“Good skill,” he said, not quite smiling.

His voice had a roughness to it, like gravel under tires. He held out a hand for me to shake, and as soon as my palm slid into his, I fell in love with him.

There was a spark from the start, at least for me.

I didn’t have words for what skated down my arm then, just an awareness that my hand fit inside his, and I didn’t want him to let go, even though he did. Of course, he did. He was thirteen. I was six.

From then on, Foster became the center of my world. All other boys were measured against him, and they all fell short.

Sometimes, he’d walk Penny and me home at dusk, his easy stride making it look like the road unrolled just for him.

He carried our backpacks the day we over-packed for a picnic and fell asleep on the blanket.

And he taught us how to skip stones with the kind of patience I thought only belonged to saints.

“Again,” he’d say if my pebble plopped uselessly, and I’d try to duplicate the exact magic of his hand.

When the rock finally skipped across the river with five perfect jumps, he bumped his shoulder into mine the way older boys do when they’re trying to be gentle and not call attention to it. I savored that feeling like a penny in my pocket for weeks.

Here’s the thing: I’ve always had a crush on him. Always. At six, it was hero worship. At nine, it was a song I hummed under my breath. At thirteen, the year the world snapped into focus, it turned into a vow I never said out loud.

And thirteen was when Penny told me the truth about Night Grove Falls.

We were in her room under a ceiling of glow-in-the-dark stars when she asked me if I could keep a secret. She whispered it so low that it took me a minute to figure out what she’d said.

“Of course,” I whispered back.

“You can’t tell,” she warned.

“I won’t,” I promised, because I never did.

“Okay.” She took a breath like she was about to dive. “Foster and my parents… and me… we’re not like regular people. We’re wolves.”

I laughed.

She didn’t.

“Not like zoo wolves,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “We’re shifters, Selena. People who can turn into wolves. We have a Pack. There are a lot of us.”

I stared at her in the darkness, my heart beating so loudly that I was sure it would give me away.

“Are you messing with me?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling. “Dad says we tell our human friends about shifters and fated mates when we’re sure they’re ours. You’re mine. Forever, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered again, because the word felt like a spell. “But…fated mates?”

“Mates,” she supplied, grinning. “You want the good stuff already? Fine. Yes. Fated mates are real. Destiny stuff. Dad says the bond hits like lightning, but then it keeps you warm. You know when it’s yours. It works for wolves and humans. And if someone is yours”—she shrugs—“they’re yours.”

Lightning. Warmth. Mine.

“And…Foster?” I ask carefully. I was always so careful with my crush around Penny.

She rolled on her back and aimed one of her paper stars at the ceiling. “He’s going to be the Alpha one day.”

“Alpha?”

“Yeah. He’ll be in charge one day. He’ll take over from my dad.”

I lay awake for hours that night, counting my heartbeats, cataloguing the moments of my life with Foster like evidence.

The time he lifted me onto the fence so I could see over.

When he knocked a snowball out of the air with his bare hand before it could hit me in the face.

The time he looked at me across a room like he saw me. Really saw me.

From that day on, I’ve been hoping, wishing, praying that I would be Foster’s fated mate.

I wasn’t the only one either. Tons of girls in town had crushes on Foster.

Some lusted after him from afar, while others tried to get close to him.

A few even tried to befriend Selena to get close to her brother.

Those were tough periods for both of us.

Luckily, she got good at spotting the girls who were trying to use her.

“Earth to Selena.”

I blink, coming back to the present day.

I’ve been thinking about the past more and more lately. I know it’s because I’m about to turn eighteen and find out once and for all if Foster and I are meant to be.

“Sorry,” I say, looking over to where Penny is sitting in her desk chair.

She’s painting her toenails a ridiculous glittery purple that only looks good on her. Penny is unapologetically herself, which means she can wear a tutu to the corner store and have the checkout lady ask where she got it. She has a way of filling the space around her, making me braver by accident.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” she asks, picking at a splinter. “It’s my best friend’s eighteenth birthday, which means we have to do it up big.”

“I’m not sure,” I admit.

“No big plans?” she asks in surprise.

I shrug. The truth is, I’m hoping to run into Foster tomorrow, have him take one look at me, and profess his love. If that happens, my plans might change. My whole life would change.

“Come on!” Penny says. “What do you want to do? Anything at all.”

“We could go to the diner and get breakfast,” I suggest.

“Oh, yeah! We can split a stack of blueberry pancakes!”

“Then maybe we could do a movie and spa day here.”

“For sure! I’ll go to town tonight and get us some supplies. What snacks do you want?”

“The usual. Popcorn, Sour Patch Kids, and Pringles.”

“You got it!” She finishes her nails and leaps up from her bed. “Want to run to the store with me?”

“No, I should head home.”

She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug as I stand. “See you tomorrow, birthday girl!”

I smile and we walk out together, waving as we head in opposite directions. I walk home, admiring nature as I trudge along. Birds twitter above me, and crickets chirp as the sun sets.

I wonder if any of the animals around me are shifters as my house comes into view.

The place is dark and silent. My parents passed away.

My dad died last year, and my mom a few months ago.

I’ve been alone ever since. I hate to say it, but it’s not that much different without them here.

They were workaholics who often forgot that I existed.

I was a disappointment to them. I wasn’t interested in art like my mom, or law like my dad.

I was chubby and a bit of a wallflower, and preferred going for walks or reading a book over any of their hobbies.

Their deaths were sudden. My dad had a heart attack at the office. He was a lawyer who moved his family to this small town, hoping it would help him slow down and relax. Instead, it forced him to buy an apartment closer to the office because he was tired of commuting.

My mom survived my dad by seven months before she caught pneumonia and ended up in the hospital. Unfortunately, she waited too long to seek treatment, too busy working on her latest art installation, and she passed away three days later.

I buried both of them here, even though it felt wrong. This place meant nothing to them. It wasn’t home. They didn’t love it here the way I did.

As their only daughter and last remaining family member, I inherited everything. Now, I’m set for life, which works out because I have no desire to go to college or leave Night Grove Falls. I’m happy working at the bookstore and hanging out with Penny. She’s the only family I have left.

I let myself into the house, sighing as I kick off my shoes and flick on a few lights. I glance at the kitchen, but not feeling hungry, I head into my room and grab the book I started reading last night from my nightstand.

Plopping down onto my bed, I flip to the last page I read. Then I do the same thing I do every night—try not to think about Foster.

I fail.