TRAPPED BETWEEN THE DARK ALPHA AND HIS BROTHERS

What the f**k is going on here?!” The words tore out of my mouth before my brain could catch up with my eyes. The bedroom door was slightly open. I hadn’t even meant to look. I’d come over to surprise Mark, maybe crawl into bed with him, maybe steal a lazy afternoon before my evening shift. I still had my bag slung over my shoulder and I still had a stupid smile on my face. Then I pushed the door open and the sounds hit me first. Soft, breathless noises. Moans and gasps. The kind of sounds you don’t misinterpret, no matter how badly you want to. Mark froze, and then he scrambled off the bed so fast he nearly tripped, yanking the sheet up around his waist like it could save him. “What the f**k?” he yelled. “How did you get in?!” I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. My chest felt like something heavy had been dropped inside it. Instead, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my spare key and held it up with shaking fingers. “You gave me the keys, numbnuts!” That was when I really looked at the girl on the bed. Her hair was dark and messy and her face flushed. She pulled the blanket up too, with eyes wide for half a second and then she smirked. My stomach dropped straight along the floor. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no.” Naomi f*****g Reed! My best friend!! “Are you f*****g serious right now?” I said, my voice cracking. “Naomi? Mark? This is... this is a joke, right?” No one laughed. Naomi rolled her eyes and sat up, not even bothering to look ashamed. “God, Ivy, relax. It’s not that dramatic.” I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Not that dramatic? You’re in my boyfriend’s bed.” Mark finally found his voice. “Why are you even here, Ivy? I told you I was busy.” “Busy?” I laughed, sharp and broken. “You were f*****g my best friend.” He flinched, but only for a second. Then his face hardened. “Lower your voice.” Naomi scoffed. “Yeah, don’t act like a psycho.” That was when something inside me snapped. “You...” I pointed at Naomi. “You came to my mom’s funeral. You held my hand when I cried. You told me you loved me.” She shrugged. “People change.” I took a step forward. “Get out of bed.” Mark moved fast. He grabbed my arm and shoved me back. I stumbled, nearly falling. “That’s enough,” he said coldly. “We’re done. I’m breaking up with you. Right now.” The words felt unreal. Like they didn’t belong to me. “Four years,” I said softly. “Four years, Mark.” “And?” Naomi cut in. “You think that means you own him?” I lunged for her. I didn’t even think. I just saw red. Mark shoved me hard, sending me crashing into the dresser. Pain shot through my shoulder. “Get the f**k out,” he snapped. “Now. Or I swear I’ll deal with you in a way you won’t recover from.” I froze. I didn’t recognize him anymore. His eyes were flat. Empty. I nodded slowly, my throat burning. “You’re not worth it,” I whispered, though my voice shook. “Neither of you are.” I walked out before they could see me cry. I barely made it down the hall when the noises started again. Laughing.. Whispering and the bed creaking from their resumed love-making like I had never existed. I ran out of the house, my vision blurry, my stomach twisting so hard I thought I might throw up. The air outside felt cold and sharp, but it didn’t help. Four years. Gone! I took the bus back to my apartment because I didn’t trust myself to walk without breaking down. I sat by the window, staring at nothing, my reflection looking like a stranger. When I got home, I shut the door, leaned my forehead against the wall, and finally let the tears fall silently. Ugly and endlessly. I thought about everything I’d lost. I was a scholarship student at Boston University. Full ride. Something I’d fought for with everything I had. My dad had left before I was even born. I never even had a face to attach to the word father. No memories, no voice, no explanation. Just a blank space where a person should have been. My mom never talked about him much. When she did, it was always short, clipped, like she was afraid the past might crawl back if she gave it too much air. She raised me alone. She worked herself sick to give me a chance at a life better than hers. Double shifts. Night shifts. Jobs that left her feet swollen and her back stiff. I remembered her coming home late, smelling like sweat and cheap soap, forcing a smile while asking me about school. She never complained. Not once. She just kept pushing, kept sacrificing, kept believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. She died two years before I got that scholarship. Sometimes that felt like the cruelest joke of all. She never got to see me step onto that campus. Never got to hear me say I made it. Never got to brag about me to the neighbors the way she always said she would. Sometimes, when things got really bad, I still reached for my phone to call her. My thumb would hover over the screen before reality hit me all over again. She was gone. I worked a part-time job just to survive. Late nights, early mornings, too much coffee, not enough sleep. Tuition might have been covered, but rent and food and bills didn’t care about scholarships. I lived carefully. I counted every dollar. I learned how to stretch noodles and silence hunger. I didn’t have family here. I didn’t have a safety net. Mark and Naomi had been my world. They were the people I leaned on. The ones who laughed with me, ate with me, celebrated small wins with me. When everything felt heavy, they were my relief. My proof that I wasn’t alone. They were my home, and now they were the ones who destroyed it. The irony almost made me laugh. I crawled into bed without changing, still wearing the clothes I’d worn in Mark’s house, like they were evidence of a life that no longer existed. I lay there staring at the ceiling, watching shadows shift as time dragged on. My mind replayed everything in a cruel loop. Naomi’s face. Mark’s voice. The sound of them laughing after I left. I wondered how stupid I’d been. How blind. How I’d missed all the signs. Sleep eventually came, thin and restless, filled with half-formed dreams and sharp jolts of awareness. I woke up more tired than when I’d gone to bed. When morning came, the pain rushed back like it had been waiting patiently for me to open my eyes. The first thing I did was grab my phone. My heart pounded as I checked it, hoping... stupidly, desperately... for a message. A missed call. An apology. Some proof that the last four years hadn’t been a complete lie. There was nothing. No missed calls. No texts. And no explanation… Just silence. I got ready for school on autopilot. Showered without really feeling the water. Picked clothes without caring how they looked. Packed my bag with shaking hands. I caught my reflection in the mirror and forced my lips into something that almost resembled a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. The campus felt different when I arrived. People were whispering as I passed. Groups leaned closer together… Phones were out, screens glowing, fingers scrolling, but conversations cut off the moment I got too close. I immediately sensed that something was wrong…