MY PSYCHO ALPHA

CHAPTER 3

I did not sleep.

Not the normal “new mattress is weird” kind of not-sleep.

More like the “my brain is replaying a hallway scene on loop like it’s trying to find the exact second my life stopped being normal” kind of not-sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again:

That guy’s hand reaching toward my arm.

Alex’s voice—low, calm, lethal.

And then—

The flash.

Not a metaphor. Not “his eyes looked intense.”

His eyes literally flashed.

Gold. Wild. Wrong.

Like something inside him had shifted and accidentally showed itself.

I kept telling myself I imagined it.

I kept telling myself the hallway lighting was bad.

I kept telling myself I was tired and dramatic and a little too influenced by Lina’s “he’s a werewolf” obsession.

But every time I remembered the rude guy’s face—how it went pale like he’d seen a predator in human skin—my stomach twisted in the same unpleasant way it had twisted under the flickering lights at orientation.

A warning.

A real warning.

At some point after midnight, I locked my bedroom door.

Not because I was scared of Alex.

I told myself that too.

I locked it because Alex told me to.

And it felt like the kind of instruction you follow even when you don’t understand why—like “don’t step off the curb when the light is red.”

I crawled into bed.

Listened.

The suite was quiet for a long time.

Then, around what my phone said was 2:13 a.m., I heard soft movement in the common room. A quiet shift. A footstep that sounded like someone walking without making noise on purpose.

I held my breath.

My fingers tightened on my blanket.

I listened for the handle to turn.

It didn’t.

The footsteps stopped outside my door, just for a second.

Then continued.

And finally—silence again.

I didn’t fall asleep until my alarm was already threatening to ring.

When it did ring, it sounded like a small demon screaming directly into my skull.

I slapped it off, blinked at the gray morning light leaking through my blinds, and immediately remembered everything.

My stomach twisted.

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

College day two.

Roommate situation: still a disaster.

Werewolf situation: apparently also a disaster.

Alex situation: the worst of all, because my brain couldn’t decide whether he was a threat, a problem, or a protective storm wearing a hoodie.

I sat up, shoved my hair away from my face, and exhaled slowly.

New plan.

Avoid Alex.

Avoid the hallway.

Avoid anyone with hands.

Avoid life.

I grabbed my phone and checked messages.

Lina: GOOD MORNING ROOMIE-WOLF GIRLLina: DID U DIELina: also bree says welcome party was “ICONIC” and we missed drama and i’m mad at uLina: breakfast later??? i’m starving

I typed back with one eye half-open.

Me: alive. barely.Me: i’ll meet you at breakfast.Me: and stop calling him a wolf.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared.

Lina: not until he stops acting like one

I groaned and threw my phone onto the bed like it had betrayed me.

I got dressed fast—simple clothes, nothing that screamed look at me—and tied my hair up so I looked a little more awake than I felt. I brushed my teeth while staring at my reflection like my face might offer me answers.

It didn’t.

It just looked tired.

When I was done, I paused at my bedroom door and listened.

Nothing.

No footsteps.

No storm scent.

No quiet presence on the other side.

Good.

Maybe Alex was asleep. Maybe he’d gone somewhere. Maybe the universe had decided to give me one tiny mercy.

I unlocked the door and stepped into the common area.

The suite looked normal.

The couch. The table. The kitchenette.

Alex’s shoes lined up neatly near his bedroom door like they were part of an organized crime scene.

His hoodie draped over the couch arm.

The air smelled faintly like soap and something sharper underneath.

Rain.

Metal.

My stomach did its stupid twist again.

I forced myself to look away from his door.

Avoid.

Avoid.

Avoid.

I tiptoed to the suite door like I was sneaking out of a dragon’s cave.

My hand reached for the handle—

“Going somewhere?”

I froze so hard my bones almost cracked.

The voice came from behind me.

From the kitchenette.

I turned slowly.

Alex stood there holding a mug, looking painfully awake and irritatingly calm. His hair was messier than yesterday, like he’d run his hand through it too many times. His hoodie was gone—he wore a plain dark shirt that made his shoulders look even more unfair.

He sipped his drink like he hadn’t just startled my soul out of my body.

I stared. “How long have you been standing there?”

He blinked, expression innocent. “Long enough.”

“Long enough for what?”

“For you to think you were escaping,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Alex’s mouth curved. “Yes.”

My jaw clenched. “I hate you.”

He lowered the mug. “No, you don’t.”

“There it is,” I snapped. “That sentence. Stop saying it like you know me.”

Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know enough.”

“Stop saying that too!”

He looked almost amused by my frustration, which made me more frustrated, which I hated because I could feel myself becoming one of those girls who argued with a boy like it was foreplay.

It was not foreplay.

It was war.

I pointed toward the door. “I’m going to breakfast.”

He nodded like I’d just announced I was going to breathe oxygen. “Okay.”

I blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he said.

Suspicious.

Way too easy.

I stepped toward the door again.

His voice followed, calm.

“Don’t go alone.”

I paused with my hand on the handle. “I’m meeting Lina.”

“Still,” he said.

I turned, irritated. “Why do you keep acting like I’m in danger?”

Alex’s eyes darkened slightly. Not anger. Something more controlled.

“Because you are,” he said simply.

My throat went tight.

I forced a laugh that didn’t sound like me. “From what? The vending machines?”

Alex’s gaze flicked to the suite door like he could see through it, through the hallway, through the entire building, like he could smell danger in the walls.

Then he looked back at me.

“People,” he said.

My stomach twisted again.

I hated that he sounded like he meant it.

I hated that last night proved he wasn’t wrong.

I lifted my chin. “I can handle people.”

Alex’s mouth twitched. “Sure.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you can fight,” he said. “I don’t believe you should have to.”

The words hit me harder than they should have.

Because for a second, behind the storm-boy act, he sounded… genuinely protective.

Like he wasn’t just controlling.

Like he was trying to keep me safe from something I didn’t see.

I hated how that made my chest warm.

I hated warmth.

Warmth made you careless.

“I’m fine,” I said, because that was still my favorite lie.

Alex set his mug down and walked toward me.

Not fast.

Not aggressive.

Just… inevitable.

He stopped a careful distance away, not touching.

“You locked your door?” he asked.

I hesitated.

Because admitting I’d listened to him felt like giving him power.

But lying felt worse.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

His gaze held mine.

Something eased in his posture, like a tight cord loosened.

“Good,” he said.

I frowned. “Why do you care?”

Alex’s eyes flicked over my face like he was reading something.

Then he said, low and calm, “Because you’re mine to protect.”

My heart slammed so loudly I almost choked.

I stared at him. “That’s not—no. Nope. Absolutely not.”

His mouth curved slightly. “You hate that sentence.”

“I do,” I said fast. “I hate it. Stop it.”

He didn’t argue.

He just watched me like he enjoyed watching me spin in circles.

I yanked the suite door open and stepped into the hallway like I was escaping a fire.

He followed.

Of course he did.

I walked fast, heels clicking.

He matched my pace without effort.

I looked straight ahead, pretending he wasn’t there.

“Stop following me,” I muttered.

“I’m walking,” he corrected.

“Behind me.”

“I’m walking behind you,” he agreed.

I glared at him over my shoulder. “This is annoying.”

His eyes met mine. Calm. Storm-dark.

“You’ll live,” he said.

“I might not,” I muttered.

He leaned closer just enough for his voice to drop. “You will.”

The confidence in that sentence made my skin prickle.

We reached the stairwell.

This time, no creepy guy.

No hands reaching.

No weird tension in the empty hallway.

Just normal dorm life: doors opening, someone laughing, someone yelling, “Bro, where’s my charger?”

I tried to relax.

It didn’t work.

I felt Alex behind me like a shadow.

A storm shadow.

We walked across campus toward the dining hall.

Morning sunlight made the buildings look innocent.

Like they hadn’t already betrayed me.

Students moved in packs, laughing, yawning, carrying coffee like it was their lifeline.

I spotted Lina near the entrance, waving like she was trying to guide a plane.

She jogged toward us, eyes bright.

“Okay!” she said, breathless. “Breakfast. My favorite emotional support activity.”

Then she noticed Alex.

Her eyebrows shot up so high they nearly left her forehead.

“Oh,” Lina said, clearly delighted. “He came.”

“I didn’t invite him,” I said quickly.

Alex spoke at the same time, calm: “I invited myself.”

Lina clasped her hands like she was watching a romance show. “Of course you did.”

I hissed, “Lina.”

“What?” she said innocently. “I’m just appreciating the chaos.”

Alex’s gaze flicked to Lina’s hand when she touched my arm.

Just a flicker.

But I noticed it.

Because I was apparently cursed with noticing him now.

Lina didn’t notice. Lina was immune to danger.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. “Come on. I’m starving.”

The dining hall was huge and loud and full of smells. Eggs, coffee, syrup, toasted bread, something fried, something sweet. The air buzzed with conversation and clattering trays.

Normal.

Almost comforting.

I breathed in and tried to let my muscles unclench.

Lina nudged me toward the food stations. “Okay. Get something. If you don’t eat, you’ll pass out and then Alex will carry you, and I’ll die from romance.”

“I’m not passing out,” I muttered.

“You look like you might,” Lina said cheerfully.

I grabbed a tray.

Grabbed a plate.

Moved through the line.

Scrambled eggs.

A piece of toast.

And then—

Fries.

Golden, salty, perfect.

I piled them on like they were the only good thing in my life.

Lina grabbed waffles like she was building a tower.

Alex… didn’t take much.

Coffee, of course.

Some protein thing that looked too healthy to be real.

He moved through the dining hall like people shifted around him without thinking. Like they sensed something dominant even when he didn’t do anything.

I told myself it was my imagination.

But when a loud guy bumped into Alex and immediately muttered an apology without being asked, my stomach twisted again.

We found an empty table near a window.

Lina sat down first.

I sat next.

I angled my body away from Alex like it mattered.

Alex sat across from me.

Right across.

Like a challenge.

I stared at him. “There are other seats.”

“I like this one,” he said.

“It’s taken,” I said automatically, because apparently that was my personality now.

Alex’s mouth curved. “Yes.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know why you enjoy annoying me.”

“I don’t enjoy annoying you,” he said. “I enjoy you.”

I choked on air.

Lina’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “OH MY GOD.”

I kicked her under the table.

She kicked back.

I glared at Alex. “Stop saying things like that.”

Alex took a slow sip of his coffee, unbothered. “Why?”

“Because—because—” I stuttered, furious at my own lack of words. “Because you’re not allowed to talk like you’re… like you’re…”

“Like I’m what?” he asked, calm.

I pointed at him, struggling. “Like you’re… claiming me.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“Maybe I am,” he said.

My face got hot.

Not because I liked it.

Definitely not.

Because I hated being thrown off balance.

I grabbed a fry and shoved it into my mouth like it could shut me up.

Alex watched me do it like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

Lina munched her waffle with the expression of someone witnessing historical events.

I chewed angrily.

Then I reached for another fry—

And Alex’s hand moved.

Fast.

He stole a fry off my plate.

Just reached across the table and took it like it belonged to him.

I froze.

My mouth fell open.

Lina gasped like she’d been stabbed.

Alex popped the fry into his mouth and chewed slowly, eyes on me, like he was waiting for the explosion.

I stared at him in pure disbelief. “Did you just—”

“Yes,” he said calmly.

“You stole my fry.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“No.”

“That’s—” I searched for words that were strong enough to express the crime. “That’s illegal.”

Alex’s eyes flickered with amusement. “Call the fry police.”

Lina slapped the table. “This is a cafeteria war!”

“It’s not a war,” Alex said. “It’s sharing.”

I leaned forward, furious. “You don’t get to take things from my plate.”

Alex leaned forward too, matching my intensity with calm. “I just did.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Give it back.”

“It’s gone,” he said, absolutely unhelpful.

I grabbed another fry and held it up like a weapon.

“Touch my fries again,” I warned, “and I’ll stab you with this.”

Alex’s gaze dropped to the fry, then to my eyes.

He looked… entertained.

Like I was adorable when I was angry.

Which made me more angry.

I jabbed the fry toward him again. “I’m serious.”

Alex reached out—

And instead of taking the fry, he gently took my wrist.

Not hard.

Not forcing.

Just… holding, like it was normal for him to touch me.

My skin lit up under his fingers.

That same sharp jolt traveled up my arm.

My breath caught.

My brain screamed danger and warmth at the same time.

I hated my brain.

Alex’s thumb brushed lightly against my wrist, right over the spot where my pulse hammered.

His eyes stayed on my face like he was watching my reaction.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

I yanked my hand away. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m angry.”

“You’re a lot of things,” he said.

I stared. “Stop speaking in riddles.”

Lina whispered, “This is so romantic it’s painful.”

I kicked her again.

She giggled into her waffle.

Alex finally looked away, like he’d decided not to push the touching thing further. He picked up his coffee again, casual.

But his gaze stayed sharp, like he was listening to everything around us while pretending not to.

I ate another fry, still glaring.

Alex waited.

Then—like he couldn’t help himself—he reached out again and stole another fry.

I made a sound that was not human.

“Alex!”

He chewed slowly. “Yes?”

“You—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. My rage was too big for grammar.

Lina slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with joy.

Alex tilted his head slightly. “Are you done?”

“Done?” I echoed.

“With being mad,” he said.

“I’m just getting started,” I snapped.

Alex’s mouth curved. “Good.”

I stared at him. “You like this.”

“I like you loud,” he said.

My face got hotter.

Lina made a squealing sound and nearly fell off her chair.

“Okay,” Lina breathed, fanning herself with her napkin. “I’m going to need oxygen.”

I leaned in and hissed at Alex, “Stop making Lina happy.”

Alex’s eyes flicked to Lina, then back to me. “I don’t care about Lina.”

Lina gasped dramatically. “RUDE.”

Alex didn’t even blink. “She’s loud.”

“I’M RIGHT HERE,” Lina yelled.

Alex finally looked at her with mild annoyance. “I know.”

Lina leaned toward me, whispering loudly, “He’s literally an alpha wolf.”

“He’s literally a nuisance,” I whispered back.

Alex’s gaze flicked to my mouth again like he caught every word.

I felt my pulse jump.

I hated that too.

I grabbed my fork and stabbed a piece of egg like it was Alex.

I ate it aggressively.

Alex watched me with quiet amusement.

Like my anger was entertaining.

Like my anger was… safe.

Which was confusing, because nothing about him felt safe.

A group of students walked by our table, laughing.

One of them glanced at Alex and immediately looked away.

Another whispered something to a friend.

I caught a fragment: “That’s him.”

My skin prickled.

Lina didn’t seem to notice; she was busy giving a full dramatic narration to her waffles.

I forced myself to focus on my plate.

On breakfast.

On the normal sound of forks and trays.

Not on the fact that the room seemed to react to Alex like he was something more than human.

Alex leaned back slightly and looked at me like he was waiting for something.

“What?” I snapped.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m watching.”

“Why?”

He tilted his head. “Because you’re trying to pretend you’re not scared.”

My stomach twisted.

I froze mid-chew.

I swallowed hard. “I’m not scared.”

Alex’s eyes held mine. “You should be.”

My throat went dry. “Of what?”

Alex didn’t answer.

He just stared at me like he was deciding whether to tell me the truth.

Lina interrupted at the worst possible moment, because Lina’s timing was a crime.

“So,” Lina said brightly, “Alex. Fun question. Are you single?”

I choked on my fry.

Alex didn’t.

He looked at Lina like she was a mosquito.

Then he looked at me.

“Yeah,” he said.

Lina’s eyes went huge. “OKAY.”

I glared at Lina. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I’m curious,” Lina said, unashamed. “Also because you two are basically arguing like an old married couple.”

“We’re not,” I said instantly.

Alex said at the same time, calm: “Not yet.”

I slammed my fork down. “STOP.”

Alex’s mouth curved like my outrage was his favorite flavor.

Lina whispered, “He’s so insane.”

“He’s so—” I tried to find the right word, but my brain was stuck on how his eyes looked when they flashed gold, and how he’d said lock your door like he meant it, and how he’d stood between me and that guy without even raising his voice.

I swallowed.

My anger softened at the edges, and I hated that even more.

I shoved another fry into my mouth, because fries were easier than feelings.

Alex leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice lower now.

“Eat,” he said.

I blinked. “I am eating.”

“No,” he said, eyes focused. “Eat like you want to live.”

My stomach twisted again, colder this time.

I lowered my voice. “Why do you keep talking like something bad is coming?”

Alex’s gaze flicked around the cafeteria—fast, sharp.

Then back to me.

“Because it is,” he said.

I held his gaze, my pulse hammering.

“What kind of bad?” I whispered.

Alex’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes tightened.

“Not here,” he said.

I stared at him. “Then where?”

Alex lifted his coffee again, calm mask snapping back into place.

“Soon,” he said.

I hated that answer.

I hated mystery.

I hated the way my body believed him anyway.

I leaned back and tried to breathe like a normal person.

Lina, sensing tension, immediately tried to lighten the mood like she was a professional chaos healer.

“Okay!” Lina announced. “New topic. What’s everyone’s schedule today? Because Bree invited us to—”

I barely heard her.

Because Alex had just done something else insane.

He looked at me and said, casually, like he was commenting on the weather—

“Don’t sit with your back to the room, Sparrow.”

The word hit me like a slap.

My fork froze halfway to my mouth.

My blood went cold, then hot.

Sparrow.

Nobody here knew that name.

Nobody in college knew that name.

It wasn’t my legal name.

It wasn’t even a nickname I used anymore.

It was a name from before.

A tiny, private name that belonged to childhood and old memories and a version of me that didn’t exist in this new life.

I stared at Alex, my voice dropping to a whisper.

“How do you know that name?”

Lina blinked. “Sparrow? That’s cute—wait, what? I didn’t know that—”

I held up a hand to silence her without looking away from Alex.

Alex’s eyes stayed on mine.

Storm-dark.

Calm.

And his mouth curved into that slow, knowing half-smile.

He didn’t answer.

He just smiled—like he’d been waiting for me to ask.

Like the question was the point.

Like the truth was something he could give me… or keep… whenever he wanted.

And somehow, that smile was scarier than the flash of gold in his eyes.

Because it said one thing clearly:

He knew things about me that he shouldn’t.

And he wasn’t going to explain.

Not yet.