Crowning the Alpha I Hate

Chapter 2

Selene's POV

The walk to the ceremony ground from Damien's house should be at least a fifteen minute walk if I take the main road.

But I take the forest path to pick some wild fruits and oranges to give Damien after the ceremony. I pick enough to last both of us right after the ceremony and at night when we sit by the bonfire, celebrating and keeping the moon company on its longest night of the year.

Securing them in my backpack, I head towards the road connecting the forest to the ceremony ground. I barely take a few steps when I feel it. The dread and excitement I can never explain, the butterflies of fear swirling in my stomach, the yearning and ache for Devlin Draxmore.

Maybe due to years of constant bullying and humiliation from the Alpha-to-be and heir of the Draxmore Dynasty, I always know when he's within a two to three mile radius.

The irony is, he knows too.

I pause to listen, to be sure I do not walk into him. If I want a chance to be spared whatever his twisted mind deems torment enough for today, I have to make sure that when he catches up to me, I'm within screaming distance of the ceremony ground. Alpha Roland Draxmore might not care about his bully son’s shenanigans, he might even encourage them, but not to the detriment of getting in the way of today's ceremony.

"Stop."

I hear him say from somewhere on my left, and I run. Forward. Fast.

"Little Kitten." He taunts. "Fine, I'll give you a 10-second start. 10...9...8..." He counts, not pausing to breathe. "...2, 1."

I hear his footsteps, and I try running faster. Weaving through trees and roots, the ground is uneven beneath my feet. His footsteps follow, relentless, swift, and impossibly fast.

Rumor says he's faster than his wolf, a wolf only a select few have seen. I have no reason to doubt it. I pity his wolf, doomed to a lifetime with Devlin.

My heart races not just from fear of running but from something else. Something deep, stirring, and concerning. My wolf, still buried, still unawakened, senses it too.

She scratches beneath my ribs, aching, wanting. She's in my head too, whispering unclear words through a link that's yet to form.

I push myself harder, ignoring the ache in my lungs. Damien is right, I'll never survive in a war. The ceremony ground comes into view, and I do a mental calculation of how much longer till I let my feet give way.

Just a little bit more, I tell myself.

"Hey, Devlin's kitten." I turn to see Brandon, his best friend, transform back to human by my side. Before I can react or squeal, he shoves me from the side.

I tumble, rolling across dirt and leaves, my backpack a steady companion. The ceremony ground disappears from view, replaced by the harsh embrace of the forest ground.

"Little Kitten." He smirks, ready to devour as I come to a stop at his feet. He squats, his eyes scanning my body. A ritual. To find where to hurt. He never hurts the same place twice in succession. He wouldn't want me broken; he'd like to see how far he can stretch me.

He grabs my jaw roughly, forcing me up a bit. He catches a scent, a sniff. Brandon notices, sniffs too. Devlin sniffs again, then his eyes widen.

"Your wolf..." He smirks. "You're late to the reveal."

Brandon sniffs. "She hasn't wolfed out yet."

Devlin looks at him, confused. "what do you mean?" He pauses. "You don't smell that?"

He sniffs. "No."

Devlin comes close, sniffing my neck, my hair. The dread excitement in my tummy flares. There's a pounding in my head like an invasion; someone wants in.

He sniffs more, deeper, the scent intoxicating him.

"A whiff of... burnt vanilla," he describes the scent to Brandon, "honey and snowish musk. You don't..." He stops. He looks at me like I've suddenly grown two heads, releasing my jaw. He looks at Brandon, who tries so hard to stifle a laugh, in horror.

"Turn." He demands.

"I can't."

He blinks. "What?"

"I haven't wolfed out yet."

The wind ceases to blow. Devlin stands up, taking steps back. He's mortified. Brandon can hold it no longer; he laughs. A brief look passes between us. And if looks could kill, I'd be dead.

"You can go, Selene," Brandon says, his eyes trained on his best friend.

I don't wait to be told twice. I scramble up and run.

I dust off the run-in with Devlin as much as I can, physically and mentally, and go to find my friends. I find Landon first, and I walk up to him. He sees me before I reach him and makes space for me to sit.

"You met Devlin?"

"Do I look it?" I ask while sitting next to him.

He nods. Then gives me his searching look.

"You know you can't..." I make sure no one is listening to us, then whisper, "...read me." It was a secret that we in the friend group knew. His parents weren't aware too, since his father worked in Alpha Roland's council, and we collectively hated him.

"And it infuriates me."

I pat him. We don't know why I'm the only one he can't read. The others need their wolf in full concentration to lock him out. A girl I vaguely see walking around steps into the field. She takes the reveal portion from this year's witches’ representative and swallows it. She winces and shakes her head. She walks to the center and transforms. Her wolf is brown and fit. A few applause. Her wolf walks back to the witch representative, who reads her wolf by touching it. She nods at Alpha Roland, and the wolf leaves.

"Has Damien gone past?"

"What were you guys doing? He was almost late." He shakes his head. "He's going last."

I'm glad I didn't miss my boyfriend's wolf reveal. He would have been disappointed and I would have lost the chance to say "i told you so."

I like being right.

"And Bea?" I ask about his girlfriend.

"She revealed already. She was really scrutinized. Do you think that if we put in a mating plea, it'll be approved?"

I nod absentmindedly, looking towards where those revealing their wolf sit, trying to spot and encourage my boyfriend. His nerves would scare him. I don't see him.

"Where's Damien?"

"There." He points, looking at me.

And a new dread comes. He sits at the high table with Alpha Roland, Landon's father, and Alpha Roland's niece, Cicilia. She has her hands over him; he sits still, unmoving.

What's going on?

Devlin walks in, taken aback by him. He looks between my boyfriend and his cousin, then he scans the crowd.

His eyes find mine, and the humiliation I feel is the worst so far.