25. Sneak Peek – Claiming My Alpha Wolf
Hiding as a werewolf among humans, I never imagined the intoxicating Alpha would captivate me.
I craved normalcy, but the supernatural world doesn”t relinquish its grip so easily.
It turns out the guy, Hunter, I”m paired with for a school project has a furry alter ego.
Cloaked in mystery he is proving to be an irresistible force against my hidden nature.
His piercing blue eyes cut through my defenses, awakening unfamiliar, fiery emotions within.
Our fates collide, sparking a wild passion that mirrors our untamed spirits.
As our hearts entangle, a chilling shadow descends.
A series of unsolved murders casts a dark veil over the campus.
Now I’m torn…
Embrace the wolf within and the electrifying love Hunter offers.
Or escape from the only one who has ever truly seen me.
Amidst this whirl of passion and peril, my survival hangs in the balance.
Will I even have the chance to choose?
Chapter 1
Rory
Oh Lord, so many new people.
I readjust my bag on my shoulders and look around uncertainly at the huge, milling crowd enclosing me. An entire sea of unfamiliar faces, swelling and dipping in unending tides as everyone moves around. The chatter rises and falls. I watch students call out to each other, pairing and tripling and walking in a certain direction. Never once did any of them stop talking.
As I make my way onto the sprawling campus of Havenwood University, the crisp mountain air fills my lungs, and the rustic charm of Asheville envelops me. The Blue Ridge Mountains stand guard in the distance, their peaks a constant, reassuring presence as I navigate my new academic journey amidst these historic, ivy-covered buildings.
I”ve always attended private schools, where drama was small-scale but often intense. Seeking a change, I yearned for a challenge – something I believed a more diverse environment could offer. I hoped to find people with broader perspectives than I had previously encountered. When I arrived in North Carolina, a surge of adventure began to pulse through me.
I wanted to come here. And even though I”m still convinced it”s the better option to soothe my wild tendencies, I still have second thoughts about being here.
Taking a deep breath, I move forward. People push and shove past me, smiling, laughing, calling for their friends. There is noise all around me, and I catch snippets of conversations: courses and teachers being discussed in intense, panicky voices, fraternities and societies mentioned excitedly, and talk about the apparently haunted building behind the library described in hushed whispers in some groups. In others, loud tales about the building flew around as clearly as the news in the morning paper would back home, where older folks would discuss from their balconies, their voices bridging the distance between them.
And then there is me. I”m weaving my way through this crowd even though I have no idea where I”m going.
A quote from a book I read a long time ago comes back to me and rings in my head. The worst place to be alone is in a crowd. It is true. And this isn”t because I feel powerless here. It”s because I somehow feel lost. And I am lost. I have no idea where my class is. I pause and watch as students take different hallways and disappear.
“Excuse me,” I touch the shoulder of a petite woman with soft facial features. She looks up at me, eyes filled with so much light.
“Yes?” She nods her head as if to indulge me.
I fumble with my backpack and pull out a small piece of paper with the location for my morning class written in bold letters on it. “I—”
“You”re not from around here, are you? Looking for Ethics with Professor Wallace? It”s right beside you.” She points to my left and the words Classroom 122 are written boldly on it just like on the piece of paper. “Have a nice day.” And she walks ahead. Three tall guys walk past me, and they move in a semi-circle around her as she walks, looking up at one then the other, and her soft voice carrying to my ears even above the noisy crowd and the growing distance.
She”s like the sort of woman who would join the cheerleading squad not because she”s always wanted to but because she is still in search of what she”s in love with. Of what she”d be passionate about.
And she was right. I”m not from around here. Not from around this city or even this country. Having grown up in the more remote parts of Ireland, it”d been a struggle to get my parents to agree to my seeking education elsewhere, but I”d somehow managed to figure out a way.
I laugh uneasily, wondering if they were still under the illusion that I was close to them even when I was clearly absent. The Druid Priestess had told me that the spell would last as long as I needed it to, and by the time it broke, they”d be made to believe that their daughter—me—had sought their blessings and they”d given in despite their earlier objections.
I laugh uneasily again. I”m playing with fire.
What happens when the people in this school find out the truth about me? What would happen if my parents find out about what I”ve done?
I swallow through the dryness in my throat. What”s in my head is not pretty at all.
Someone bumps into me and my stream of thoughts is mercifully cut off as I turn my attention to the classroom the woman had shown me. The door hangs slightly ajar, and inside, I can spot students taking their seats next to each other, engaging in introductions. I take deep breaths.
Okay, Rory. The first class of the semester. Make a good impression.
But it seemed like so much work to conform and be like everyone else. Still, isn”t that what I”ve tried to do all my life?
I push the door open all the way and step inside the air-conditioned room. It”s as though none of the students even noticed that I”d stepped in. They continue chattering, only sending fleeting glances my way. I notice a strikingly bright pink head of hair and make my way down the stairs, settling myself beside the woman with a stunningly cherub-like face.
“Hey!” she exclaims as I set my bag down near my feet. “I’m Caroline. I just love your eyeshadow. What shade of blue is that?”
A bit taken aback by the compliment, I reply, “It”s aquamarine.”
“It looks great on you with your skin tone. Here, you can have this seat beside me.”
She pats on the padded single chair paired with a table. “I”d have done my makeup today, but I couldn”t decide on shades for anything. That”s why I decided to bless the world with my amazing skin.” She laughs. “Three people have asked for my skincare routine now. I would love the brand of your eyeshadows. It”ll pair so beautifully with my hair. It”s such a unique aquamarine.” She”s leaning into me, her eyes fixated on my eyelids. I move back the closer she comes. My seat tips over and, “Whoa!” I land on my back.
“Oh my god, are you hurt?” she asks, still sitting in her chair as I scramble to my feet.
I laugh, surprising myself. “No, I’m fine.”
All the worries about making a good first impression disappear.
Everyone is looking at me, the room silent enough for me to hear a mouse squeak, but they turn their heads away now that I”m on my feet and resume their chattering.
“It’s nice to meet you, Caroline. I’m Rory.” I sit beside her and make a small wave.
A guy in the front row cranes his head back to look at me. His striking blue eyes meet mine for only a few seconds before he turns away.
“You’re an international student, aren’t you?” Caroline asks me, a grin spreading across her face.
I groan. “Is it that obvious?”
“Of course, it is. You have a different accent. British, aren”t you?”
“From the depths of the Emerald Isle.”
“Ah! I was right.” Caroline chuckles. “Your walk gives you away as much as your accent does. Your steps are hesitant, like you”re uncertain of where to place your feet next. It’s a clear sign you”re new around here. The locals, on the other hand, tend to stomp up the stairs. When did you come to the US?”
I shrug. “A few weeks ago.” Red tinges on my cheeks. I”d only arrived a week ago and magic from the Druid Priestess had helped to hasten every process. Every queue I joined either moved quickly or I somehow found myself in front while the others stayed behind me. My documents were all pushed to the top and attended to first. So, it”s going to be a shock if people know that I”d barely spent a week in the States, and I had all my papers complete. Both international papers and school papers.
“People keep looking this way,” I say and the guy who”d been darting glances in my direction whips his head forward. “Guess I made a spectacular scene,” I chuckle, surprising myself with the fact that I barely felt the embarrassment when a few minutes ago, I”d been bothered about what they would think. “I mean, that guy in the front row with the grey hoodie just keeps looking back at me.” I point when her eyes sweep the front row twice, but she still looks at me puzzled. “With the messy hair.”
“Oh, him,” she says then nods still looking puzzled. Then she pauses, does a double take, and says, “Oh God, that”s David. Please stay as far away from him as possible.”
“You know him?”
“Know him? We attended pre-school through high school together. If there”s anything that stands out about David, it”s that he’s the biggest creep around within a 100-mile radius. I’m sure the reason he’s gawking in your direction is because he’s got the hots for you.” She shivers in horror as if the thought greatly repulsed her.
Judging by Caroline’s expressions, I can’t tell whether she’s joking or not. Her face is sober and disgusted, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. I laugh at the expression on her face. It feels good to be having a normal conversation about guys with another woman. Back home, the women liked to pretend they didn”t like guys even though they snuck off with them everywhere anytime they got the chance.
I might be getting ahead of myself, but it feels like I’ve already found my first friend for this year.
I hear the door swing open. I raise my head towards it, and an elderly man with a thin, silver beard walks in. The noise quickly dwindles into silence, as the last of the loitering students settle into their seats.
“That’s Professor Wallace,” Caroline whispers in my ear. “A great guy if you don’t interrupt his lectures. If you do, it takes him about 5 seconds to turn into a total hard ass.”
I turn my head back to the front, observing as Professor Wallace begins giving his introduction in a low, throaty voice.
“My name is Professor Isaac Wallace. The first thing I want to make clear is that I detest interruptions of any kind.”
“He doesn’t seem so bad, and I don’t see why I won’t get along with him.” I shrug.
Then he begins to talk about the grading scale, the course curriculum we should expect to cover this semester, and the classroom guidelines we should follow.
—There is a loud whine—Professor Wallace’s voice cuts off midway, and everyone”s attention turns to the door. A guy walks in.
My breath hitches in my throat. Tingling twin arcs of current race through my palms as I watch him make his way towards the seats close to me and Caroline, his footsteps echoing in the deathly silence that has settled over the classroom. Everyone’s gaze is fixated on the guy, tracking his movements like a bloodhound track scent.
“Rory, close your mouth.” Caroline nudges me with her elbow.
I shut it immediately, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
He slowly, casually strides over to the empty seat right in front of me as if he has all the time in the world. As if he hasn’t just disrupted the entire class with his charming, amazing—
“Rory, a fly”s going to choke you if you don”t close your mouth,” Caroline sings in a whisper.
As the guy gets closer, his features become clearer, and my stomach twists in… What? Desire? No, it can’t be.
Certainly, it”s a powerful feeling, if not desire. My blood surges through my veins, warming my skin and causing it to tingle with sensations like goosebumps.
He has hair darker than even the most starless night sky. It’s arranged over his head in curling, unruly locks, with one stray strand hanging over his forehead. I don’t know why, but I feel an overwhelmingly powerful urge to stand up and brush away that stray lock of hair from his forehead. I don’t do it, of course. That would be insane.
He places the backpack that he”d been carrying on the table in front of him. There are a few murmurs, and people shift and stir as if they’ve just broken out of a trance. Professor Wallace stares at the guy for a few seconds with a smirk that tells me he”s amused at that level of confidence in a freshman, but he resumes as though he”d never stopped talking.
I glance at Caroline and catch the look of excitement on her face.
The class continues, and the silence re-establishes itself. As Professor Wallace paces the room’s front, giving out detailed instructions about grading, books to purchase, and exam prep, I try my best to pay attention to him and jot down everything important that he says. But my attention is fleeting. It’s almost as if someone has secretly dosed me with adrenaline and now, I”m unable to focus on only one thing. Every other second or so my eyes swivel upwards to look at the back of the guy”s head directly in front of me.
His back looks very strong. The muscles on his shoulders stand out like ridges, an entire—
Rory! Stop it! I sit up straight in my seat, my cheeks flushed because of the thoughts swirling in my head.
It’s time to focus on the lecture, I say to myself.
I begin to write in my notebook with renewed focus, vowing not to look in front of me until the class ends.
But I make another mistake. In my haste to blot out these embarrassing thoughts I’m having, and with the adrenaline that’s surging through my body, I move too quickly.
The pen slips from my sweaty fingers and rolls off my notebook. It falls to the floor and keeps rolling until it stops just beyond the guy”s seat, where his legs are positioned on either side, even though he”s sitting up straight.
Oh God. What have I done?
I sit there like a statue and wait as the guy registers what has happened. His left foot accidentally presses against the pen, and he looks down curiously. For a second or so he sits still, the gears turning in his mind, figuring out what has happened, and then he stretches his head back to look right at me.
As soon as his brooding, emerald-green eyes fall on me, my mind goes blank.
“Uhh—Uhmm,” I fumble with the words, my mouth dry. “I dropped my pen. Could you hand it back, please?”
The guy continues to look at me for a few more moments. His face is expressionless, almost bored. Finally, he decides to respond. “You can come and pick it up yourself.”
Wait.
What?
By the time I’ve fully understood what’s happened, he’s already turned his back to me. For the rest of the class, I sit there in my seat, pen-less and fuming, all my adrenaline replaced with hot anger.
When the class finally ends, he”s one of the first to rise and head straight for the door.
My heart beats faster and the anger rushing through me demands that I give him a piece of my mind.
“I’ll catch you later,” I tell Caroline quickly, not waiting for her response. I jump out of my seat and go after him, squeezing my way through the chaos of students threatening to squish me between their bodies. I take a huge breath when I make it out to the corridor.
“Hey!” Several people turn to look at me in the hall. “Is today a special occasion, or are you always such an ass?”
He pauses in his tracks and turns around, that unbothered expression still on his face.
I know he’s heard me. Those deep green eyes are now filled with amusement as they regard me. Finally, he answers.
“Do you always act like a clumsy arthritic patient, or is today a special occasion?”
And then he’s gone, leaving me speechless in the hall, shaking with a mix of anger and frustration.
“I see that you’ve met Hunter.” The warm voice startles me as hot breath fans over my ear.
I turn around. A guy is standing behind me, smiling hesitantly. The confident front he”s putting up is clear to see.
“What?” I snap.
“Hunter. The guy walking away. And he usually elicits the same reaction from most people.”
The frown on my face begins to disappear and my temper cools. “Oh. Right. Sorry about snapping at you. He”s just...”
“Unbelievable?”
I nod.
The guy shrugs awkwardly. He has a thin, small frame with freckles on his cheeks and messy straw-colored brown hair.
”It”s okay,” he says. ”I can tell you are new here. I wanted to warn you about certain people you should avoid. My name is Kyle, by the way.”
He reaches out a skinny, stick-like hand to me.
“Rory. Nice to meet you, Kyle.” I smile at him, finally calming down. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an advanced calculus class that I’m late for, thanks to my little incident with this Hunter,” I say the name with a bit of venom and look behind me, seeing that the class I”d emerged from is almost empty.
“Advanced calculus?” Kyle’s eyebrows quirk up. “I’m headed that way. I’ll take you.”
“That would be great, Kyle. Thanks so much.”
And then we head off together discussing our courses. He tells me about some lecturers and professors while we walk briskly.
But as I converse with Kyle, and despite my best efforts, Hunter’s face floats to the forefront of my mind. I can’t help but think again about the interaction we just had and the weird feelings that he stirred up within me.