Dark Woods

Chapter 3

Gabriel’s POV

BEEP BEEP BEEP

I groan and reach blindly toward the source of that irritating noise, my head pounding from last night's alcohol. My hand encounters something soft and warm draped across my waist. I crack open my eyes to find a naked brunette sprawled beside me in this dingy motel room near my pack's border.

Fuck. What was her name again?

Sitting up slowly, I rub my temples as fragmented memories of the previous night filter back. Another bar, another willing stranger, another meaningless encounter. The usual routine—find a girl who's dtf, take her somewhere private, get off, and get out. No names, no numbers, no complications.

I dress quickly, grabbing my phone from where it fell on the stained carpet. The motel room's exactly what you'd expect—cheap furniture, questionable stains, and that musty smell that no amount of air freshener can cover. The brunette's still passed out, her makeup smeared and her hair a tangled mess.

Without a backward glance at the sleeping woman, I head for the door. This is how it always goes—no names, no promises, no complications. Girls throw themselves at me constantly, and I'm happy to indulge as long as they understand the rules. They're a distraction, nothing more. A way to blow off steam and scratch an itch without any emotional bullshit.

The morning sun's too bright, making my hangover worse as I step outside. I scroll through my contacts and call Jamie, squinting against the glare.

"Hey, Gab, what's up?" My beta's voice is thick with sleep. Poor bastard probably got as wasted as I did last night.

"I need a ride. I'll send you the location."

Jamie's sheepish laugh carries through the phone. "Yeah, sure man. Give me ten."

I send my coordinates and lean against the motel's peeling exterior wall, watching early morning traffic crawl by. This part of town's pretty sketchy—the kind of place where you don't ask questions and nobody remembers faces. Perfect for my purposes.

True to his word, Jamie pulls into the parking lot exactly ten minutes later in his beat-up Jeep. I slide into the passenger seat, ignoring my best friend's raised eyebrows and knowing smirk.

"Good night?" he asks, but he's smart enough not to push for details.

"Good enough," I mutter, closing my eyes against the sunlight streaming through the windshield.

Jamie's smart enough not to comment, but I can feel the unspoken questions hanging in the air between us. He knows my routine by now—we all do. Find a girl, f**k her, forget her. Rinse and repeat.

I've always been clear about what I want from the women I sleep with: a good f**k and silence afterward. Nothing more, nothing less. Romance isn't in my vocabulary—hell, I'm not sure I have a romantic bone in my body. The idea of a mate makes my skin crawl. Mates make alphas weak, and with a pack as large as mine, weakness isn't a luxury I can afford.

My dad's always been clear about that. "Emotions make you vulnerable," he's told me countless times. "And vulnerable alphas get their packs killed."

"So, first day back at Northwood," Jamie says, pulling me from my brooding thoughts. "Should be interesting seeing the guys again."

"Yeah, should be," I reply, watching the familiar streets pass by. Summer break's over, which means back to pretending to give a s**t about high school while preparing to take over the pack. At least this is my senior year—one more year of this bullshit and I'm done.

"I heard Nick found his mate," Jamie's voice carries a hint of amusement. "Poor girl's gonna have her work cut out for her with all his exes lurking around."

I chuckle despite myself. "Good luck to whoever she is." Nick's been notorious for his conquests—almost as bad as me. The thought of him settling down with one girl is pretty f*****g hilarious.

Jamie pulls into the pack house driveway, the imposing structure casting long shadows in the morning light. Our pack house is massive—three stories of stone and timber that houses the Alpha family and serves as the pack's headquarters. It's intimidating as hell, which is exactly the point.

"See you at school, man."

"Thanks for the ride."

I head straight to my room, desperate for a shower. The lingering scent of last night's encounter clings to my skin, making my stomach turn. It always does afterward—the disgust, the emptiness. Like I'm trying to fill some void that just keeps getting bigger.

I crank the water as hot as I can stand it, letting it beat down on my shoulders. The bathroom fills with steam as I scrub away the smell of cheap perfume and regret. Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, feeling marginally more human.

After brushing my teeth and running a hand through my damp hair, I move to my closet. Black t-shirt, jeans—simple and functional. I sit on the edge of my bed to pull on my boots, catching my reflection in the mirror across the room.

At six-foot-four with sandy blonde hair and dark eyes, I've inherited the classic alpha build—but bigger, stronger than most. My olive-tanned skin stretches over lean muscle that speaks of countless hours training. It's the body of a future leader, one destined to command the Black Eclipse Pack's five hundred warriors.

The weight of that legacy presses down on me daily. My father, Thomas Preston, earned legendary status fighting alongside Alpha Jacob Blackwood and Alpha Sam Jackson in the vampire wars. Those are boots I'm not sure I can fill. Sometimes I wonder if I'm cut out for leadership, or if I'm just going through the motions because it's expected of me.

A knock at my door interrupts my thoughts. I open it to find my father—an older, more weathered version of myself—standing in the hallway. His dark hair's streaked with silver now, and the lines around his eyes speak of years of leadership and tough decisions.

"Good morning, son. Your mother says breakfast is ready."

"I'll be right down, Dad."

"Oh, and you owe me for missing training this morning," he says, a mischievous smile spreading across his weathered face.

"Yeah, sure, Dad." I chuckle, falling into step beside him as we head toward the dining room. Despite his reputation as a hardass Alpha, Dad's always had a sense of humor when it comes to family.

He continues poking fun at my obvious hangover, and I find myself laughing despite my pounding headache. This is what I love most about my father—the man always knows how to lighten my mood, even when I feel like hell.

"There are my handsome boys," Mom says warmly as Dad approaches her for a quick kiss before taking his seat. She turns to me with the same affectionate smile. "Good morning, my handsome son." She presses a kiss to my cheek and sets a plate of food in front of me.

My mom, Elena, is the heart of our family. Where Dad's all business and authority, Mom's warmth and compassion. She's got this way of making everyone feel loved and welcomed, whether you're pack royalty or the newest omega. The pack adores her, and I can see why Dad fell so hard.

"Now eat up. You both had a long morning of training, and you need your energy."

I shoot Dad a confused look. He winks and mind-links me a single word: punishment.

I smile and shake my head. Oh god, I'm in for it now.

"So what's the plan for today?" Mom asks, settling into her own chair with a cup of coffee.

"School," I say around a mouthful of eggs. "Senior year starts today."

"My baby's finally graduating," Mom says, getting that sentimental look in her eyes that makes me squirm.

"Mom, please. I'm gonna be an Alpha. You can't call me your baby."

"You'll always be my baby," she says firmly. "Alpha or not."

Dad chuckles. "Your mother's right, son. No matter how big and scary you get, you'll always be her little boy."

"I hate you both," I mutter, but I'm smiling.

After finishing breakfast, I say goodbye to my parents. Dad's parting words follow me to the door: "Good luck at school. Just remember, the real work begins when you get home."

No pressure there.

I head to the garage and slide into my grey Ferrari F8 Spider, the engine purring to life as I speed toward Northwood High. The car's a graduation gift from my parents—a little over the top, but it sends the right message about our pack's status.

I've barely parked when light taps on my window draw my attention. Alpha Lucas Blackwood and Keaton Jackson stand outside, gesturing for me to join them. The three of us have been practically brothers since childhood, our fathers' war bond extending to the next generation.

"Hey, bro!" Keaton calls out as I emerge from the car.

"Hey, guys."

"So, Gab, what happened to you last night?" Lucas asks with a sly grin. His pale skin and dark hair make him look like some gothic prince, which the girls seem to love.

"Last time I saw him, some redhead was sticking her tongue down his throat," Keaton adds, shaking his head with amusement. "You f****d her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, though I didn't plan on it. The liquor was too strong." I shrug, causing both my friends to double over with laughter.

"Well, you seemed to enjoy yourself because she wasn't the only one you screwed last night," Lucas manages between laughs.

I groan, embarrassment and nausea warring in my stomach. "f**k, really?"

"Come on, we better get inside," Keaton says, finally composing himself.

As we approach the school entrance, we spot Nick, Jamie, and Max chatting with a group of cheerleaders. The scent of lust practically radiates from the girls, and while Jamie and Max wear massive grins, Nick looks irritated and uncomfortable.

Damn, that mate bond's got him good, I think with amusement.

The morning flies by in a blur of classes. Normally, we'd leave campus for lunch, but Nick's constant complaining convinced us to eat in the cafeteria for the first time in two years. Since Nick's mate hasn't come of age yet, she can't scent him out—a fact that makes him unbearably possessive of her without her even knowing it.

Keaton and Lucas find Nick's behavior entertaining, though neither has found their own mate yet. Jamie and Max are notably absent, likely entertaining those cheerleaders from this morning.

I'm grinning at Nick's predicament when his eyes suddenly lock onto three girls across the cafeteria. A blonde with delicate features, a brunette in expensive clothes, and a girl with long black hair and beautiful tanned skin.

The moment my gaze falls on the dark-haired girl, something primal stirs in my chest. She's f*****g gorgeous—long, silky black hair that catches the light as it cascades past her shoulders, and even from this distance I can see she's got curves in all the right places. Her skin has this perfect golden tan that makes me wonder what it would feel like under my hands. She's tall, probably five-eight, with an athletic build that suggests she can handle herself. But it's the way she carries herself that really gets to me—confident, almost defiant, like she doesn't give a s**t what anyone thinks.

There's something almost regal about the way she moves, and when she turns slightly, I catch a glimpse of her profile—high cheekbones, full lips that I have the sudden urge to taste.

Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?

Which one is Nick's mate? I wonder, hoping desperately it isn't the girl with black hair.

There's something about her that's... different. The way she carries herself, the confidence in her posture, the way she seems completely unaware of the attention she's drawing. It pisses me off for reasons I can't explain.

"Hey, Gabriel, you okay, man?" Lucas's voice cuts through my thoughts, concern evident in his tone.

Keaton's giving me a questioning look, clearly sensing the alpha aura radiating from me.

"Yeah, I'm good. It's nothing." I shake my head, trying to regain control.

"Okay," Keaton says slowly, turning his attention back to Nick, though his expression remains troubled.

We all watch as the three girls walk back into the school building. Nick's eager to follow, his eyes tracking every male student who dares glance in their direction. I note the murderous glares he's sending—those guys will definitely be getting visits later.

Keaton and Lucas burst into laughter, joking about how Nick's gone from player to completely whipped. I can't help but join in.

That s**t's so funny, and damn, it's so true.

Nick had been notorious for banging different girls every week. He was a self-proclaimed ladies' man who reveled in his reputation, but now he's chasing after just one girl like a lovesick puppy.

"Dude's f****d," I say, shaking my head. "Completely and utterly fucked."

"Tell me about it," Lucas grins. "Remember when he said he'd never settle down? That mates were just fairy tales?"

"Yeah, well, karma's a b***h," Keaton adds. "And she's got a sense of humor."

But even as I laugh with my friends, I can't shake the image of that dark-haired girl from my mind. There was something about her—something that made my wolf restless in a way I've never felt before.

And that scares the hell out of me.