MY PSYCHO ALPHA

CHAPTER 11

Alex didn’t raise his voice in that basement seminar room.

He didn’t need to.

He stood in the doorway like a storm given a human outline—quiet, still, certain—and the whole room reacted like the air had suddenly dropped ten degrees.

The girl who ran the “not-a-club” froze mid-breath.

The varsity guy went pale like his blood remembered fear before his brain could argue.

Bree’s hands clenched so tight her knuckles turned white.

And me?

I just stood there with my heart doing that awful, panicked sprint, because part of me was furious—

…and part of me was relieved.

Alex’s gaze locked onto mine like the room didn’t exist.

His eyes were storm-dark tonight, not glowing, not flashing—just heavy, like he was carrying control on his back and refusing to drop it.

“Meeting’s over,” he said again.

The tall girl tried to recover, lifting her chin like she wasn’t intimidated. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Alex’s expression didn’t change. His voice stayed calm.

“It concerns her,” he said.

My stomach twisted.

I hated that my body responded to that sentence like warmth, like safety, like someone placing a shield in front of me.

I hated it because I didn’t want to need a shield.

I didn’t want anyone to decide things for me.

I opened my mouth to speak—

The tall girl beat me to it.

“You brought her into this,” she snapped.

Alex’s eyes flicked to the girl for one sharp second.

Then back to me.

“I didn’t bring her,” he said quietly. “You did.”

The tall girl’s jaw tightened. “We warned her.”

Alex’s mouth curved faintly, humorless. “You threatened her.”

“We offered her protection,” the varsity guy muttered.

Alex finally looked at him fully.

The room went so quiet it felt like even the walls had stopped listening.

Alex’s voice dropped low.

“You don’t protect,” he said. “You circle.”

The varsity guy swallowed and looked away.

My pulse hammered.

Bree whispered, almost to herself, “Oh no…”

Because she knew.

I knew.

Everyone in that room knew Alex didn’t walk into places like this unless it mattered.

The tall girl stepped forward, forcing bravery into her posture. “She needs to understand what you are.”

Alex’s gaze returned to me like that was the only thread he trusted.

“Do you want to stay?” he asked me.

The question shocked me.

Because it wasn’t a command.

It wasn’t “come with me.”

It was an actual choice.

My throat tightened.

I glanced around the room—at the symbol papers, the tense faces, the secret-knowledge eyes.

Then I looked back at Alex.

He was waiting.

Still. Patient. Dangerous.

I swallowed.

“No,” I said.

The word came out stronger than I felt.

Alex nodded once, like he’d expected that answer.

He stepped aside slightly, making space for me to pass.

I walked toward the door.

My legs felt like they were made of static.

When I reached Alex, he didn’t touch me—but the air around him felt like a wall.

Protective.

Possessive.

Annoying.

Relieving.

I hated all of it.

As I crossed the doorway, the tall girl called after me, voice tight with urgency.

“Stay away from him!” she said. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it!”

I stopped.

My back still to the room.

I wasn’t sure why that line made my temper spark, but it did.

Maybe because I was tired of being warned by everyone.

Tired of being treated like a fragile thing.

Tired of rules and secrets and symbols like I wasn’t a person, just a piece on a board.

I turned my head slightly. “I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

The tall girl’s face tightened. “It’s real.”

My cheek still ached faintly from the basketball hit, like a reminder that reality could hurt.

I looked at Alex from the corner of my eye.

He was watching me—not the room.

Me.

Like everything else was background noise.

I swallowed and said to the tall girl, voice cold with stubbornness:

“Then I’ll decide what I do with it.”

Then I walked out.

Alex followed.

Of course he did.

Outside, the basement hallway felt less suffocating. Still creepy. Still quiet. But at least there weren’t twelve pairs of whispering eyes trying to fold me into their secret.

We climbed the stairs in silence.

At the building entrance, the night air hit my face and the moonlight made the campus look too peaceful for the things that lived in it.

I stopped under a streetlamp and finally faced him.

“Were you listening the whole time?” I demanded.

Alex didn’t deny it. “Yes.”

“You followed me.”

“Yes.”

“That’s creepy,” I snapped.

“I know,” he said, like he’d memorized my complaints.

I stared at him, frustrated. “Why didn’t you stop me sooner?”

Alex’s gaze held mine. “I tried.”

My throat tightened. “How?”

“You saw me today,” he said quietly. “I told you to go to class. I told you to stay where there were witnesses.”

“That’s not—” I started, then stopped, because he was right. He had warned me. He’d just… refused to explain why.

I clenched my jaw. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

Alex’s eyes darkened slightly. “Because the truth isn’t safe.”

“Neither is ignorance!” I shot back.

He went still for a beat, like that landed.

Then he exhaled slowly.

“You want normal,” he said.

“Yes,” I said instantly.

Alex’s mouth twitched, humorless. “Normal doesn’t want you.”

My stomach tightened.

I hated that sentence, because it felt true in a way I didn’t want.

I crossed my arms. “I can handle it.”

Alex’s gaze swept my face like he was reading my stubbornness like a book.

Then he nodded once.

“Okay,” he said.

I blinked. “Okay?”

He stepped back slightly, giving me space. “Prove it.”

That annoyed me so much my spine straightened.

“Oh, I will,” I said.

Alex’s eyes stayed on mine. “Good.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going out tomorrow.”

His gaze sharpened. “Where?”

“Anywhere,” I said. “With friends. Like a normal college girl.”

Alex’s jaw flexed.

Then he said, calm but very, very not calm: “Fine.”

The word didn’t sound like permission.

It sounded like a threat to himself.

I lifted my chin. “And you’re not following me.”

Alex blinked slowly. “Sure.”

I pointed at him. “Don’t lie to my face.”

“I’m not lying,” he said. “I’m agreeing.”

“That’s the same thing with you.”

His mouth curved faintly, almost amused.

“See you tomorrow,” he said.

Then he turned and walked away into the darkness like night belonged to him.

My stomach twisted.

I hated that I watched him until I couldn’t see him anymore.

The next afternoon, I committed to my stupid plan.

I texted Lina and Bree a single message:

Me: I’m coming out. Normal hangout. No drama.

Lina replied instantly:

Lina: THAT IS A LIE BUT OKLina: meet by the snack shop in 10!!!

Bree’s reply came a minute later:

Bree: Okay! ❤️ And… I’m sorry about last night.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

Then I typed:

Me: We’ll talk later.

Because I didn’t know what else to say.

Because “you invited me to a secret alpha bloodline meeting” was not a sentence you casually resolved over lunch.

I threw on a hoodie, fixed my hair into something that said I am fine even if my brain was still screaming, and walked out of the dorm like I owned my feet.

Normal.

Normal.

Normal.

I reached the snack shop near the quad and found Lina leaning against the wall like she was auditioning for “main character best friend.”

Bree stood beside her with a nervous smile and a tote bag like she was prepared for emotional support groceries.

Lina grabbed my hands dramatically. “SHE LIVES!”

I rolled my eyes. “Barely.”

Bree’s gaze flicked over my face, lingering on my bruised cheek. “How’s your nose?”

“Alive,” I said. “Also barely.”

Lina looped an arm through mine. “Okay. Plan. We do cute normal things. We get iced drinks. We go to the mini-market. We pretend our lives aren’t supernatural chaos.”

Bree nodded too fast. “Yes. Normal.”

I stared at them. “Why are you both saying ‘normal’ like it’s a spell?”

Lina’s smile faltered for a split second.

Then she brightened again. “Because it is.”

We went inside, got drinks, and sat outside on a bench in the sun.

For five whole minutes, it actually worked.

We talked about classes. Professors. The cafeteria eggs. A girl in Bree’s math lecture who asked a question so long the teacher looked like he aged ten years mid-sentence.

I laughed.

A real laugh.

It surprised me so much I almost hated it.

Then Lina’s eyes widened suddenly.

Her gaze flicked past my shoulder.

“Oh,” she whispered, delighted. “No way.”

My stomach dropped before I turned.

Because my body had developed a new sense:

Alex incoming.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

Walking across the quad like the world parted for him without being asked.

He wore a dark jacket, hands in pockets, expression mildly annoyed—like the sunlight itself was irritating.

He didn’t look around.

He looked straight at me.

Like he’d never lost track.

Lina whispered loudly, “COINCIDENCE, MY—”

“Don’t,” I hissed.

Alex reached our bench and stopped like he just happened to be passing by, which was a lie so obvious it should’ve been illegal.

“Hey,” he said, calm.

I stared. “No.”

His eyebrows lifted. “No what?”

“No you,” I said.

Alex looked at Lina, then Bree, then back to me. “You’re out.”

“Yes,” I snapped. “With friends.”

Alex nodded slowly. “I see that.”

Lina leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Do you also see that you were not invited?”

Alex didn’t look at Lina long. “I’m not sitting.”

“Good,” I said immediately.

Alex glanced down at my drink. “You got ice.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You don’t like ice,” he said.

My throat tightened.

Because that was true.

Because I never told him that.

Because apparently he collected small facts about me like trophies.

I forced my face blank. “I’m trying new things.”

Alex’s gaze held mine. “Okay.”

Lina muttered to Bree, “He’s literally stalking her.”

Bree whispered back, “Maybe he’s… protecting.”

I hissed, “Stop whispering like I’m not here.”

Alex’s mouth twitched faintly, like he found all of this amusing.

Then he said, casually, “Enjoy your day.”

And walked away.

Just… left.

No drama.

No possessive line.

No storm.

I stared after him, confused and irritated.

Lina gaped. “WHAT?”

Bree blinked. “He… left.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This is suspicious.”

Lina nodded. “Yep.”

Bree frowned slightly. “Maybe he’s trying to respect your space.”

I stared at her. “That’s adorable.”

Lina leaned closer, whispering like she was telling a ghost story. “Give it ten minutes.”

We made it exactly twelve minutes.

We walked to the small campus bookstore.

We browsed snacks and notebooks and overpriced pens.

We laughed about a mug that said I SURVIVED GROUP PROJECTS like it was a war medal.

And then—

I felt it again.

That shift.

Like the air behind me changed.

I turned.

Alex stood in the aisle holding a random textbook.

Calm.

Silent.

Wrong.

Lina slapped her hand over her mouth like she was trying not to scream.

Bree’s eyes widened.

I stared at Alex. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Alex glanced down at the book in his hand. Then up at me.

“I’m studying,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. “Is it upside down again?”

Alex blinked once.

Then, very smoothly, rotated the book so the title faced the right way.

“I learned,” he said.

Lina wheezed. “OH MY GOD.”

Bree whispered, “That’s… kind of funny.”

I tried not to smile.

I failed.

A tiny laugh escaped.

Alex’s gaze sharpened like he’d won something.

I caught myself and glared to cover it. “Stop showing up everywhere.”

“I’m not,” he said.

“Yes, you are.”

Alex looked mildly offended. “This is a public store.”

“This is a small store,” I snapped.

He tilted his head. “And yet, here you are.”

Lina muttered, “He’s insane.”

Alex’s gaze flicked to Lina. “Correct.”

Bree let out a nervous laugh.

I grabbed my notebook and marched out of the bookstore like I was escaping gravity.

Lina and Bree followed, half laughing, half panicking.

Outside, I spun on them. “Do you see this?”

Lina nodded wildly. “YES. I LOVE IT.”

Bree looked torn. “I… I don’t know if love is the right word.”

I inhaled slowly. “I’m going to the mini-market for groceries.”

Lina blinked. “Groceries?”

“Yes,” I said. “Because I’m normal.”

Lina nodded solemnly. “Yes. Normal groceries. Very human.”

Bree adjusted her tote bag. “Okay.”

We walked toward the small campus mini-market, and for five minutes, I didn’t see Alex.

I relaxed one percent.

Then we entered the market—

And there he was.

In the produce aisle.

Holding a bag of apples like he had ever eaten an apple in his life.

I stopped dead.

Alex looked up like he’d been waiting for us to arrive.

“Hi,” he said.

Lina grabbed my arm. “HE’S IN THE FRUIT.”

Bree whispered, “Why is he in the fruit?”

I stared at Alex, voice low and furious. “Are you following me or do you just live inside my day?”

Alex’s mouth twitched. “Both.”

“Alex!”

He blinked, unbothered. “What? You asked.”

Lina whispered loudly, “He’s jealous.”

“I am not,” Alex said instantly.

Lina’s eyebrows shot up. “You answered too fast.”

Alex’s jaw tightened.

I narrowed my eyes. “Jealous of what?”

Alex looked at me like I’d asked something irrelevant.

“Nothing,” he said.

Bree cleared her throat awkwardly. “We’re just getting groceries.”

Alex’s gaze flicked to Bree. “I know.”

Lina leaned toward me, stage whispering. “He’s acting like a dad chaperone.”

“I am not,” Alex repeated, voice too firm.

I grabbed a basket and started picking up random things out of pure spite.

Bread. Milk. Eggs. Snacks.

Lina did the same, humming like she was shopping for plot twists.

Bree quietly picked practical items like a responsible human.

We reached the checkout line—

And that’s when a random guy stepped in front of us with a basket full of protein bars and energy drinks. He wore a cap and had that confident, easy smile that said he thought he was charming.

He glanced at me and smiled wider. “Hey.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Hi.”

Lina’s eyes widened like she’d just smelled drama.

Bree looked uncomfortable.

I smiled back automatically—small, polite, normal.

Because I was trying to be normal.

The guy chuckled. “You’re the girl from the basketball game, right? The one who got—”

“Hit in the face,” Lina supplied brightly.

The guy winced. “Yeah. That looked painful.”

“It was,” I said, dry.

He laughed. “I’m impressed you’re walking around like nothing happened.”

I shrugged. “I’m stubborn.”

“Same,” he said, grinning. “I’m—”

A sound came from behind me.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

But sharp enough that it sliced through the casual tone.

A low exhale.

Like a warning.

I didn’t have to turn to know.

But I did anyway.

Alex stood behind our baskets, his eyes locked on the guy in the cap.

Storm-dark.

Too still.

His jaw set in that way that meant control was being actively maintained.

The guy’s grin faltered slightly when he noticed Alex.

“Uh,” Cap Guy said, clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

Alex’s voice was calm. “Move.”

Cap Guy blinked. “Excuse me?”

Alex didn’t blink back. “You’re blocking the line.”

Cap Guy glanced down, confused, then scoffed. “Dude, it’s a checkout line. Chill.”

Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. “Move.”

Lina grabbed Bree’s sleeve like she was watching a live show.

Bree whispered, “Please don’t fight in a grocery store.”

I hissed, “Alex, stop.”

Alex didn’t look at me.

Cap Guy lifted his chin, trying to reclaim dominance. “Bro, why are you acting like—”

Alex stepped forward one inch.

Just one.

Cap Guy’s posture shifted automatically, like his body remembered fear again.

He swallowed. “Whatever, man.”

He moved ahead, but not without shooting me one last smile—quick, almost apologetic.

“See you around,” he said.

I gave a polite nod, because I was normal and didn’t want trouble.

Alex made a sound in his throat that was dangerously close to a growl.

I turned on him. “What is your problem?”

Alex finally looked at me.

“Nothing,” he said.

“That’s a lie.”

Alex’s eyes darkened. “You smiled.”

I stared. “At a person.”

“You smiled,” he repeated, like that was the crime.

Lina whispered gleefully, “JEALOUS.”

“I am not jealous,” Alex snapped so fast it almost made the candy display tremble.

Bree murmured, “That was… very jealous.”

We paid for our groceries in tense silence.

Outside, Lina handed Bree two bags and grabbed two herself.

Cap Guy appeared again near the entrance, now holding his own bag like he wanted to be helpful.

“Need a hand?” he asked, smiling at me.

I opened my mouth to say, “No, we’re good,”—

Alex stepped forward.

“I’ve got it,” Alex said.

Cap Guy raised an eyebrow. “All of it?”

Alex’s expression went blank. “Yes.”

Cap Guy chuckled. “That’s a lot. Let me take some.”

Alex’s gaze sharpened. “No.”

Cap Guy laughed again, still trying to play it cool. “Okay, man. It’s not that deep.”

Alex’s mouth twitched. “It is.”

Lina’s eyes were sparkling like she’d been blessed by the comedy gods.

Bree looked like she wanted to disappear into her tote bag.

I groaned. “Alex, stop being weird.”

“I’m not,” Alex said. “I’m carrying groceries.”

Cap Guy grinned, clearly enjoying the challenge now. “Alright. Let’s see who can carry more.”

I stared at both of them. “Why is this happening?”

Lina whispered, “Because male ego is a disease.”

Alex reached down, grabbed four grocery bags in one hand like physics didn’t apply, and lifted them without effort.

Cap Guy blinked. “Okay—”

Alex calmly picked up another two bags with his other hand.

Then, because he was apparently possessed by petty alpha energy, he bent down and lifted the entire basket like it weighed nothing.

Bree gasped softly. “Oh my—”

Lina clapped. “HE’S BENCH-PRESSING THE MINI-MARKET.”

Cap Guy stared, then laughed like he was both impressed and offended. “Alright, okay, you win.”

Alex didn’t smile.

He only looked at me.

Like the win was for me.

Like the whole ridiculous show was meant to prove something.

I crossed my arms. “This is so embarrassing.”

Alex’s voice was low. “Good.”

“What?”

“It means you’ll remember,” he said.

“Remember what?”

Alex’s eyes held mine, storm-dark and certain.

“Who doesn’t let you fall,” he said.

My throat tightened in a way I hated.

Because the sentence landed too close to the part of me that was tired of standing alone.

Cap Guy waved awkwardly. “Uh… see you.”

I forced a polite smile again, because I was not trying to start a social war.

Cap Guy smiled back.

Then walked off.

Alex’s gaze followed him like a predator tracking prey.

I sighed. “Are you done?”

Alex looked at me, jaw tight. “No.”

I blinked. “No?”

I gestured at the bags. “You literally won the grocery Olympics.”

Alex’s voice dropped, low and dangerous in a way that made Lina go silent for once.

“Smile at him again,” Alex said, eyes locked on mine, “and I’ll bite the table.”