MY PSYCHO ALPHA

CHAPTER 10

I didn’t tell anyone about what I saw.

Not Lina. Not Bree. Not even my own reflection when I brushed my teeth and stared into the mirror like it might confess first.

Because how do you say—

I woke up to a howl that felt like it crawled under my ribs, and then I saw Alex outside like he belonged to the moon, and then he looked straight at my window like he could smell me through glass, and then he vanished into shadows like the night swallowed him.

How do you say that and still keep your sanity?

So I didn’t.

I went back to bed after he disappeared. I lay under my blanket with my heart hammering and my eyes burning and my brain replaying that moment over and over until the sky turned pale.

Morning came like it always did—too bright, too casual, too ignorant of the fact that something impossible had happened eight hours ago.

Campus woke up.

People laughed.

Coffee flowed.

The world pretended it didn’t have teeth.

I tried to pretend with it.

I kept my hood up on the walk to class even though it wasn’t cold. I kept my hands in my sleeves like I could hide questions there. I kept scanning shadows automatically, because once you see something vanish into them, you stop trusting what’s empty.

Lina found me outside the lecture hall, bouncing on her heels like she’d been powered by pure chaos.

“YOU LOOK LIKE A GHOST,” she announced, way too loud for a Monday morning.

I flinched and hissed, “Lower your volume.”

Lina leaned in, squinting at my face. “Okay. You’re pale. You didn’t sleep. You have ‘I watched a horror movie alone’ eyes.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

Lina’s eyes narrowed. “That’s your favorite lie.”

“I’m just tired,” I said.

“From what?” Lina demanded, grabbing my sleeve. “You left the party early, then you got hit in the face, then wolf-boy did his scary voice thing, then you vanished into your room like a tragic heroine. That’s, like, five emotions in one night.”

I swallowed. Six, actually. If you count watching him disappear.

“I’m just adjusting,” I said.

Lina made a face. “To what? Having a possessive alpha who follows you into libraries and sports?”

I glared. “Stop.”

Lina held up her hands. “Okay, okay. But—real question—did he apologize?”

I thought of last night. The way he’d mouthed go back through the glass. The way he’d looked up at my window like he sensed me. The flicker of gold.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

Lina blinked. “You don’t know?”

I shrugged, because shrugging was easier than breaking. “He wasn’t exactly in a talking mood.”

Lina’s eyes went dreamy. “Wow. Tragic.”

I stared at her. “Why are you like this?”

“Because romance is my oxygen,” Lina said cheerfully. “And your life is currently a romance thriller with a hot supernatural bodyguard.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s not my bodyguard.”

Lina smiled sweetly. “Sure.”

Then she glanced behind me, toward the hallway, and her smile turned mischievous.

“Oh,” Lina whispered. “Speak of the storm.”

My stomach twisted before my eyes even turned.

Alex stood at the end of the hall.

Not leaning casually.

Not smirking.

Just… there.

Quiet.

Still.

Like he’d been waiting.

He didn’t look tired the way I felt tired.

He looked clean and calm and controlled, like sleep was a thing he could turn on and off whenever he wanted. He wore a dark jacket today, sleeves pulled down, wrists hidden.

His eyes found mine immediately.

They always did.

And for a second, the hallway blurred around that stare.

Like everything else became background noise.

My throat tightened.

Lina hissed in my ear, “He’s looking at you like you’re his entire schedule.”

I whispered back, “Stop.”

Alex walked closer.

Not fast.

Not slow.

Just inevitable.

When he reached us, Lina lifted her chin like she was ready to interrogate him on behalf of feminism.

Alex didn’t look at Lina.

He looked at me.

“Did you sleep?” he asked.

My mouth went dry.

Lina gasped. “OH MY GOD HE CARES.”

I glared at Lina. “Please evaporate.”

Lina laughed and stepped back. “Fine. I’ll go. But if you kiss, I want a full recap.”

“Lina,” I warned.

She saluted. “Text me if you die or fall in love.”

Then she pranced away like she hadn’t just left me alone with the walking storm.

Silence dropped between Alex and me.

The hallway felt too bright, too public, too normal for the things that existed in my head.

I swallowed. “You were outside.”

Alex’s expression didn’t change.

His eyes stayed on mine.

“You shouldn’t have looked,” he said softly.

My pulse jumped. “So you did know.”

“I felt you,” he said.

The words hit me hard.

I stared. “You felt me.”

Alex’s jaw flexed slightly, like he regretted saying it out loud.

“Through the window,” I whispered. “Through glass.”

His eyes darkened. “Go to class.”

I blinked, frustrated. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Answer one impossible thing and then dodge everything else,” I snapped.

Alex held my gaze for a long beat.

Then his voice dropped, low enough that it didn’t carry far.

“There are ears everywhere,” he said.

My stomach went cold.

I glanced around the hallway automatically.

Students walked past. Talked. Laughed. Looked at their phones.

Normal.

But now I couldn’t stop imagining “ears” that weren’t human.

Alex’s gaze flicked to the classroom door.

“Go,” he repeated.

I clenched my hands. “Are you going to tell me what’s happening?”

“Not here,” he said again.

My temper flared. “Then where?”

Alex’s eyes held mine.

For one second, something softer moved through his expression.

Then it vanished.

“Soon,” he said.

I hated that word.

Soon was a leash.

Soon was a promise that kept you waiting.

I turned away before my face could betray how much he affected me.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Whatever.”

I walked into class.

And even as the professor started talking about boring syllabus things, I could feel Alex’s presence out in the hallway for a few seconds longer—like he was watching my door—before it finally disappeared.

Not vanished like last night.

Just… gone.

Like he’d never been there.

Which was somehow worse.

The invitation found me that afternoon.

Not by email.

Not by flyer.

Not by a cheerful student at a club fair table.

It was slipped under my suite door.

A single folded card, thick paper, no name.

Just a symbol stamped in dark ink on the front.

A crescent.

Part moon, part claw.

A line through it like a seal.

My stomach flipped so hard I had to sit down.

Because I knew that symbol.

I’d seen it in the old book.

I’d seen it on Alex’s wrist.

My fingers tightened around the card.

I looked toward Alex’s bedroom door.

Closed.

Quiet.

I hesitated—then opened the card.

Inside, the words were printed neatly, too neat, like someone wanted it to feel official without making it traceable.

MEETING — TONIGHT11:30 PMBASEMENT SEMINAR ROOM BBRING NO ONE.SAY NOTHING.FOR YOUR SAFETY.

My throat went dry.

Eleven-thirty.

Midnight roaming rule flashing in my brain.

No midnight roaming.

No forest boundary.

And yet someone was inviting me to a meeting at night.

Bring no one.

The words felt less like a request and more like a test.

I read it twice.

Then three times.

Then I noticed the faint smell on the paper.

Not strong.

Just a trace.

Rain and metal.

Storm.

My pulse spiked.

I looked at the card again like it had teeth.

Had Alex—

No.

He wouldn’t invite me like this.

He would show up in front of my face and say “don’t” like it was law.

So if it wasn’t him…

Then who?

And why did they have the symbol?

And why did they know how to find me?

My hands started to tremble.

I forced them still.

I sat there in the common room staring at the card until Lina came bursting in like a hurricane.

“GUESS WHAT,” Lina announced. “Bree is planning a movie night and—”

She stopped when she saw my face.

“Oh,” Lina said, quieter. “What’s wrong?”

I shoved the card into my pocket too fast.

“Nothing,” I said.

Lina’s eyes narrowed. “That was the fastest ‘nothing’ I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m fine.”

“There it is again,” Lina muttered, but she didn’t push. Lina could be dramatic, but she wasn’t stupid. When my voice went flat like that, she knew something was real.

She flopped onto the couch. “Okay… Alex hasn’t been around much today.”

My stomach twisted at his name.

Lina watched me carefully. “Did you two fight?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

Lina blinked. “How do you not know?”

I rubbed my forehead. “I’m just… tired.”

Lina leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. “Well, if you need a distraction, Bree has snacks.”

I swallowed.

The card felt heavy in my pocket.

Meeting. Tonight. Bring no one.

My brain screamed don’t go.

My curiosity whispered you have to.

Because the symbol wasn’t a coincidence.

Because the forest wasn’t a joke.

Because Alex wasn’t normal.

And because if people were whispering behind my back—if there were rules I couldn’t read—then someone was going to explain eventually.

Better I walk into it on my terms than wait for it to bite me when I wasn’t looking.

I forced a casual tone. “I might be busy tonight.”

Lina looked at me. “Busy how?”

I shrugged. “Studying.”

Lina snorted. “Liar.”

I stared at her until she stopped laughing.

Her expression shifted.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “You’re serious.”

I didn’t answer.

Lina scooted closer. “Do you want me to come with you?”

My chest tightened.

The card’s words flashed.

BRING NO ONE.

I shook my head. “No.”

Lina frowned. “That’s not like you.”

I gave her a small, fake smile. “College is changing me.”

Lina didn’t smile back.

She stared at me like she wanted to argue, then sighed.

“Fine,” she said softly. “But if you’re doing something weird, at least text me a code word.”

I blinked. “A code word?”

“Yes,” Lina said, deadly serious for once. “If you text me ‘WAFFLES,’ I’ll call you and pretend there’s an emergency.”

I almost laughed.

Almost.

“Okay,” I said. “Waffles.”

Lina nodded. “Good. Now I’m going to pretend everything is normal so I don’t panic.”

She stood up abruptly. “Movie night still exists if you change your mind.”

Then she left, the door clicking behind her.

I sat alone again.

The suite was quiet.

Alex’s door stayed closed.

And my pocket felt like it held a small piece of a trap.

At 11:10 PM, I left the suite.

I didn’t tell Lina.

I didn’t text Bree.

I didn’t knock on Alex’s door.

I hated that last part.

Because some part of me wanted to.

Wanted him to come out and say “no” and make the choice for me.

But his door stayed shut.

And the hallway outside was quiet, dim, full of shadows that stretched longer than they should.

I walked fast.

I kept my head down.

I kept my phone in my hand with Lina’s code word ready.

The campus at night didn’t feel like daytime campus.

At night, the rules felt real.

At night, the boundary sign felt like it was watching.

At night, every tree looked like a mouth.

I reached the academic building where basement seminar rooms were located.

The door was unlocked, which was already wrong.

Inside, the lights were dim—only some hallway lights on, like the building was half-asleep.

I followed signs down a staircase.

Basement air hit me—cooler, older, smelling faintly of dust and concrete.

My footsteps echoed softly.

I reached the hall where the seminar rooms were.

B was at the end.

The door was cracked open.

A strip of warm light spilled out.

Voices—quiet, murmuring—slid into the hallway.

I paused.

My heart hammered.

Then I pushed the door open.

The room was lit by a few lamps, not overhead fluorescents. The shadows felt intentional.

There were maybe twelve students inside.

Not random club-fair students.

These looked… alert.

Older. Sharper. Like they weren’t here for fun.

Some stood. Some sat at desks facing inward like a circle.

Nobody smiled.

When I entered, every head turned toward me.

And my stomach dropped, because I recognized a few faces.

The varsity guy from the schedule line.A girl from the basketball court.One of the “Night Safety Volunteers” Lina had almost joined.And—worst of all—Bree.

Bree sat near the back, hands clasped tightly, eyes wide.

When she saw me, her expression went from surprise to guilt so fast it made my chest tighten.

“You’re here,” a voice said.

A tall girl stepped forward. Not much older than me, but she carried authority like she’d practiced it. Her hair was tied back, her eyes too steady.

She held up a paper.

The same crescent-claw symbol was printed at the top.

“Sit,” she said.

My throat went dry. “What is this?”

“A warning,” she said simply.

My stomach twisted.

“About what?” I asked.

The girl’s gaze flicked over me like she was assessing.

“About bloodlines,” she said.

The word landed heavy.

Someone behind her murmured, “And alphas.”

My skin prickled.

I forced myself not to flinch.

“This is a college,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Not a fantasy novel.”

A few people exchanged looks.

Not amused.

More like… sad.

The tall girl stepped closer.

“Some of us are born into things we didn’t choose,” she said. “Some of us are marked. Some of us are hunted. And some of us—” her eyes sharpened “—shouldn’t be here at all.”

A chill crawled up my spine.

I swallowed. “Why did you invite me?”

The girl’s gaze flicked down to my pocket—like she knew exactly where the card had been.

“Because you’re near him,” she said.

My heart stuttered.

“Near who?” I asked, though I already knew.

The girl’s voice lowered.

“Alex.”

The room went even quieter.

Like his name was a trigger.

My hands curled into fists.

“What about him?” I demanded.

The girl’s expression tightened. “Stay away.”

My temper flared instantly. “Why?”

A boy near the desks scoffed. “Because he’s trouble.”

Another student muttered, “Because he doesn’t follow rules.”

The varsity guy said, “Because he’s not like us.”

My stomach turned.

Bree finally spoke, voice small. “We’re trying to help you.”

I snapped my head toward her. “You knew about this?”

Bree flinched. “I— I didn’t know you’d come.”

I stared at her, furious and hurt.

The tall girl cut in, voice firm. “Focus.”

I turned back, shaking. “What is this? Some secret club?”

“It’s not a club,” the tall girl said.

“Then what is it?”

She hesitated for the first time.

Then she said, quiet: “A line.”

“A line?” I echoed.

“Yes,” she said. “A line between what’s allowed on this campus… and what hunts around it.”

My skin prickled.

The forest flashed in my mind. The growl. The silence.

“What does Alex have to do with that?” I whispered.

A murmur ran through the group—uneasy, conflicted.

The tall girl’s eyes hardened.

“He’s an alpha-born,” she said.

The word hit like a cold slap.

I forced myself to breathe. “That’s not real.”

Nobody laughed.

Nobody denied it.

The tall girl stepped closer, voice sharper now.

“You saw it,” she said. “You felt it. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

My throat went tight.

“I—” I started, then stopped.

Because she was right.

I had seen too much to pretend it was nothing.

The tall girl held my gaze.

“He is the storm,” she said quietly. “And storms don’t come without damage.”

My pulse hammered.

“And you’re saying I should stay away,” I whispered.

“Yes,” she said. “Because if you’re near him, you’ll get pulled into it.”

Another student added, “You already are.”

My stomach twisted.

Bree’s eyes were shiny like she wanted to apologize for something bigger than just inviting me.

The tall girl leaned in.

“Listen,” she said, low. “This is the only kindness you’ll get from us: stay away from Alex.”

My chest tightened.

I whispered, “Why do you care?”

The tall girl’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Because,” she said, “when an alpha starts circling—someone always bleeds.”

The room felt colder.

My heart pounded so loud it drowned my thoughts.

And then—

A sound at the door.

A soft click.

Every head snapped toward it.

The door opened wider.

A shadow filled the frame.

Alex stood there.

Still.

Calm.

Like he’d been listening the whole time.

The tall girl froze.

The varsity guy went pale.

Bree’s breath caught.

And Alex’s eyes—storm-dark and dangerous—swept the room with quiet control.

Then his gaze locked onto me.

Right through the dim light.

Right through the tension.

Like the only thing he cared about was whether I was safe.

His voice came out low, steady.

“Meeting’s over,” he said.

And the way he said it made my stomach drop—because it didn’t sound like a request.

It sounded like a command.

A command everyone in the room understood.

Even the ones who’d just warned me to stay away from him.