MY PSYCHO ALPHA

CHAPTER 5

If you asked me what fear sounded like, I would’ve said a scream.

Or a siren.

Or maybe even my alarm clock on a Monday morning.

I would not have said:

Silence.

Because that’s what the forest gave us after that growl.

A silence so sharp it felt like it cut through the bright afternoon. Like the campus noise—laughter, music from someone’s speaker, the squeak of bikes—had been turned down on purpose.

Lina’s nails dug into my arm.

I didn’t tell her to stop. I didn’t even move.

My eyes stayed locked on the line of trees behind the boundary sign.

The wind shifted again and brought that metallic storm smell, and my stomach twisted like it had a memory all by itself—like my body recognized danger before my brain had permission to label it.

Alex stood a step in front of us, his posture too still, his shoulders too tight. He wasn’t doing anything dramatic. He wasn’t making a scene.

But the way he held himself was the scene.

Like a guard dog pretending it wasn’t a guard dog.

Like a boy pretending he was only a boy.

I swallowed, throat dry. “Alex…”

He didn’t look at me.

He kept his eyes on the trees.

“Go back,” he said quietly.

Lina’s voice trembled. “To the dorm?”

“Yes,” Alex said. “Now.”

Lina nodded too fast, like her head was trying to agree before her heart could argue. She grabbed my wrist and tugged. “Come on.”

My feet moved like I’d forgotten how to control them.

We walked away from the boundary, and each step felt like leaving a cliff edge without looking down. Like the moment we turned our backs, something could follow.

I kept expecting another growl.

Another sound.

Another warning.

But the forest stayed quiet.

Like it was pleased we obeyed.

When we reached the dorm building, my lungs finally started working again.

Lina pulled me inside and dragged me toward the elevator like she could physically pull us into safety.

Alex followed.

Of course he did.

In the elevator, Lina stared at the floor numbers like she was trying to force them to go faster.

I stared at Alex.

He stared at nothing.

Or maybe he stared at everything. It was hard to tell with him.

The doors opened. We stepped into the fourth-floor hallway.

Normal hallway.

Normal noise.

Someone laughing behind a door. Someone blasting music. Someone yelling, “Bro, no, that’s my shampoo!”

My brain tried to cling to that normalness like a lifeline.

We reached our suite. Alex swiped the keycard and pushed the door open.

Inside, the common room looked exactly the same as before.

Couch. Table. Kitchenette.

Storm hoodie.

Normal.

But my body didn’t believe in normal anymore.

Lina hovered near my bedroom door like she wanted to crawl inside and lock herself in.

I kept my eyes on Alex, because I still needed an answer I probably wasn’t going to get.

“What was that?” I asked.

Alex finally looked at me.

His eyes were dark. Controlled.

Human.

Almost.

“It was a warning,” he said.

“A warning from what?” I demanded.

Lina flinched at my tone. “Hey—”

“No,” I cut her off, because if I didn’t ask now, I’d never ask. “He keeps warning me. He keeps acting like he knows things. And he keeps—” my throat tightened “—calling me names he shouldn’t know.”

Alex’s jaw clenched slightly at that last part.

For a second, the calm mask slipped.

Not into anger.

Into something like restraint.

Like he was holding back words the way you hold back a bite.

His gaze flicked to the suite door, then back to me.

“Go to your room,” he said.

My temper flared. “No.”

His eyes sharpened. “Now.”

I didn’t move.

Lina, caught between us, whispered, “Okay, I’m leaving. I’m leaving. I’m not built for this.”

“Lina,” I said, not taking my eyes off Alex.

Lina backed toward the door like it was a portal. “Text me if you die.”

Then she slipped out.

The suite door clicked shut.

Silence dropped.

Not forest silence.

But the suite felt smaller without Lina’s noise filling the space.

Alex took one slow breath.

Then another.

Like he was counting.

“Lock your door,” he said again.

I stared at him. “Stop saying that.”

He stepped closer.

Not invading.

Not touching.

But close enough that I could smell him—rain, metal, storm.

Close enough that my body reacted before my pride could stop it.

“I can’t explain everything,” he said lowly. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” My voice shook despite my effort to keep it steady. “Because you don’t trust me? Or because you think I’m too stupid to handle it?”

Alex’s gaze flicked down to my wrist.

My pulse was visible there, jumping under my skin.

Then his eyes lifted back to mine.

“It’s because if you know,” he said, quiet and deadly serious, “you become a target.”

The words hit me so hard my brain went blank for a second.

“A target,” I repeated.

Alex’s expression didn’t soften.

“It’s already started,” he said.

My mouth went dry. “Started what?”

Alex’s gaze slid toward the window, toward the direction of the boundary sign.

Then back.

“You being here,” he said.

I stared at him. “That makes no sense.”

“It will,” he said.

I hated that sentence. I hated how often he used it like a promise.

I took a shaky breath. “So what am I supposed to do? Sit in my room like a prisoner?”

Alex’s jaw tightened.

“No,” he said. “Live normal.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “How? You’re literally in my suite acting like the apocalypse has a schedule.”

His eyes flickered. “It does.”

My chest tightened.

I forced myself to scoff, because scoffing was easier than panic. “Okay. So what, there’s a monster in the woods?”

Alex’s gaze went still.

His voice dropped even lower.

“There are things in the woods,” he said, “that should not be near campus.”

A chill crawled up my spine.

I crossed my arms like that could hold me together. “And you know about it because… what? You’re a nature enthusiast? You’re in some weird ‘Night Safety Volunteer’ club?”

Alex’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Something like that.”

I stared. “You’re not denying it.”

“I’m not denying anything,” he said.

“That’s not helpful.”

“Good,” he said.

I blinked. “Good?”

“If you feel unsettled,” Alex said, watching me closely, “you’ll stay alert.”

I bristled. “You want me scared.”

“I want you alive,” he said.

The bluntness of it stole my words.

For a second, I just stared at him, heart hammering, trying to figure out if he was being dramatic or honest.

And the terrifying part was… he sounded honest.

I swallowed. “So what about the party tonight?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed.

“What party?” he asked.

I hesitated, because the way he said it already felt like a warning.

Lina’s words echoed: Bree said it was iconic. We missed drama.

“It’s a freshman welcome thing,” I said carefully. “Some people are going again tonight. Bree invited us.”

Alex’s face didn’t change much, but the air did.

It tightened.

Like a storm gathering.

“No,” he said.

My temper flared again. “Excuse me?”

“No,” he repeated, calm.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

Alex’s eyes darkened. “I do.”

My heart slammed. “You don’t own me.”

His gaze held mine. “I know.”

“Then stop acting like you do.”

Alex leaned closer, voice low. “Then stop walking into danger like you don’t care what happens.”

“I don’t walk into danger,” I snapped.

Alex’s eyes flashed—not gold, not yet, but sharp enough to make my stomach flip.

“You did yesterday,” he said. “You did today. You do it every time you try to pretend you’re invisible.”

I swallowed hard.

“People don’t ignore you,” he said. “They notice you. They test you.”

My throat went tight. “So I’m supposed to hide?”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “You’re supposed to listen.”

I stared at him, angry and confused and unwilling to admit a small part of me felt… safe when he stood like this. Like a wall.

“I’m going,” I said stubbornly, because apparently my survival instinct was competing with my pride.

Alex went very still.

His eyes fixed on mine.

“Don’t,” he said.

I held his gaze, refusing to blink first.

Then I turned away, stormed into my room, and shut the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

I heard Alex exhale—slow, controlled—through the door.

Then silence.

I locked my door.

Because I still listened to him even when I hated him.

The afternoon crawled.

I tried to do normal things. Unpack the last of my clothes. Organize my desk. Pretend I cared about my schedule.

I failed.

My thoughts kept circling the same things like vultures:

The growl.The silence.Alex’s eyes.Sparrow.Target.

When Lina texted, it was like a rope thrown into quicksand.

Lina: OKAY I HEARD U TWO YELLING THROUGH THE WALL LOLLina: ARE U OKLina: also tonight’s party is at the lounge near the rec building. bree says it’s “safer” bc there are RAsLina: COME WITH ME PLS I DON’T WANT TO GO ALONE

I stared at the messages for a long time.

Then typed back:

Me: I’ll go. But if I die, I’m haunting you.

Lina replied immediately.

Lina: DEAL. DRESS CUTE. WE WILL GET FREE SNACKS AND LIVE.

I put my phone down and groaned into my pillow.

I knew Alex would be furious.

I knew it might be stupid.

But part of me wanted to prove I wasn’t going to let fear—or him—control my life.

And another part of me, smaller and quieter, wanted to see if he would show up.

Which was deeply annoying.

At eight-thirty, Lina appeared at my door like a glittery hurricane.

She wore a bright top, jeans, and a smile that said she had never met consequences she couldn’t charm.

“You ready?” she asked.

“No,” I said honestly.

“Perfect,” she said, grabbing my wrist. “That means you’re alive.”

I had dressed simple. Cute enough to feel confident. Not cute enough to feel like a target.

Still, when I looked in the mirror, I felt exposed. Like the world could read my thoughts off my face.

I cracked my door open and peeked into the common room.

Empty.

Alex’s door was closed.

His shoes were still lined up.

But the air felt… less stormy.

Like he wasn’t here.

Good.

Maybe he had gone somewhere. Maybe he was doing his mysterious “night safety” thing. Maybe he’d decided to let me make my own choices.

Lina tugged me toward the suite door. “See? No wolf-boy. We’re free.”

We stepped into the hallway.

I didn’t relax until we were in the elevator.

The lounge near the rec building was already loud when we arrived.

Music thumped through the walls like a heartbeat.

The entrance was a stream of freshmen carrying cups and laughing too loudly.

There were string lights across the ceiling, cheap but pretty. Someone had set up a snack table with chips and soda. A few RAs in bright shirts stood near the corner, watching like tired shepherds guarding a flock.

It looked normal.

It looked safe.

It looked like the kind of party people would later describe as “mid” but still attend anyway.

Bree spotted Lina instantly and waved like her arm was attached to a windmill.

“LINA!” Bree squealed, rushing over. “YOU CAME!”

Bree was exactly as Lina had described—bright-eyed, energetic, the kind of girl who could make friends in an elevator and then invite everyone to brunch.

She hugged Lina, then turned to me.

“And you!” Bree said. “You’re her bestie, right? I heard you didn’t come last night.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. I was… tired.”

Bree leaned closer conspiratorially. “We had drama last night. Like, REAL drama.”

Lina gasped. “Tell me.”

Bree looked around, then whispered loudly, “Some guy tried to start a fight and then suddenly stopped like he saw a ghost.”

My stomach tightened.

Lina’s eyes widened. “Like… why?”

Bree shrugged. “No clue. He just went pale and walked away.”

My throat went dry.

I glanced around the room, suddenly too aware of everyone’s hands, everyone’s bodies, everyone’s proximity.

Lina nudged me. “Okay, breathe. Eat chips. Chips fix fear.”

Bree grabbed our hands. “Come dance!”

“I don’t dance,” I said automatically.

Lina leaned in. “You will. I need you on the dance floor so I don’t look like a lone clown.”

I let her drag me.

The dance floor was really just an open area where people moved badly to the beat and pretended it was cool.

Lina danced like she was built for joy.

Bree danced like she was auditioning for a music video.

I danced like someone trying not to look like she was being held hostage.

Still, after a few minutes, my shoulders loosened.

My brain stopped screaming.

Maybe Alex was wrong.

Maybe the forest thing was just… an animal. Maybe the rule posters were just campus paranoia. Maybe Alex was just dramatic and intense and—

A hand touched my waist.

My body froze.

A guy had stepped close behind me, smiling like we were already familiar.

He wasn’t ugly. He wasn’t even that tall. But his grin was too confident, too quick, like he expected me to be flattered.

“Hey,” he said into my ear over the music. “You’re cute.”

I leaned away instinctively. “Thanks.”

He stepped closer again.

My stomach twisted.

“I haven’t seen you before,” he continued, eyes sliding over me like he was shopping. “You new?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He moved his hand again, lower.

I stepped back sharply. “Don’t.”

His grin widened. “Relax. It’s a party.”

“That doesn’t mean you touch people.”

He laughed, like boundaries were hilarious. “Come on. I’m just being friendly.”

I felt the room suddenly too loud and too crowded and too—

I glanced toward Lina, but she was dancing with Bree, laughing, not seeing me.

The guy leaned in again, voice oily. “Don’t be like that.”

I backed away, but he followed, like he thought this was a game.

“Stop,” I said, louder.

His expression shifted—annoyed now.

“Why you acting stuck-up?” he snapped.

My pulse hammered.

I turned to walk away.

He grabbed my wrist.

Not hard enough to leave a mark.

Just hard enough to make my skin crawl.

Fear hit me like ice water.

“Let go,” I said.

He tightened his grip. “Just talk to me—”

Then the air changed.

It happened so fast it didn’t feel real.

One second the music was loud and my heart was panicking and his hand was on my wrist—

The next second—

A presence slammed into the space between us.

Alex.

He hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Now he was.

And he looked like the party had personally offended him by existing.

His hair was slightly damp, like he’d been outside. His hoodie was on, hood down. His eyes were darker than the room, fixed on the guy gripping my wrist.

Alex didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t shout.

He just said one word, quiet and sharp.

“Let.”

The guy blinked, confused. “What?”

Alex took my wrist gently—his fingers warm, controlled—and peeled the guy’s grip off me like removing something disgusting.

Then Alex stepped forward.

Too fast.

Too intense.

The guy stumbled back half a step, suddenly unsure.

“Who are you?” the guy demanded, trying to puff himself up again. “This is none of your—”

Alex’s eyes flashed.

Not fully gold.

Not yet.

But something in them sharpened into something not human.

The guy’s words died in his throat.

Alex leaned in just enough that the guy could hear him over the music.

“You don’t touch her,” Alex said, voice low.

The guy swallowed. “Dude, it’s a party. I was just—”

Alex’s jaw tightened.

His hands curled briefly at his sides like he was fighting an instinct.

The air around him felt heavier, like pressure building before lightning.

I stared at him, pulse hammering, my skin buzzing where he’d touched me—safe, but also too aware.

The guy tried to laugh again, but it came out shaky. “Relax, man. She didn’t say she had a—”

Alex stepped closer.

One step.

And the guy backed up automatically.

Alex’s voice dropped even lower, a dangerous whisper meant only for me.

“Don’t let anyone touch what’s mine.”

My breath caught.

My heart slammed so hard it hurt.

I stared up at him, frozen.

“What—” I whispered, voice barely there. “What did you just say?”

Alex didn’t look away from the guy.

But his hand tightened slightly around mine—protective, possessive, impossible.

And in the flashing party lights, with music pounding like a heartbeat and fear still crawling under my skin, Alex stood between me and the world like a storm that had finally stopped pretending to be human.