CHAPTER 3
1235 Words
“Don’t freak out.”
Sara said it like a warning, which of course made me do the exact opposite.
I froze halfway through pulling on my sweater. “Why would I freak out?”
She hovered near the door of my dorm room, phone clenched in her hand, eyes darting like the walls might be listening. “Because if I were you, I’d already be screaming into a pillow.”
My stomach dropped. “Sara.”
“Okay,” she rushed on, “promise me you won’t pass out again.”
“I promise nothing,” I muttered. “Just tell me.”
She turned the phone around.
My name was everywhere.
Well. Not my name exactly. But my face. A blurry screenshot from the gym, taken right before I collapsed. My mop handle visible. My oversized uniform. Caleb Sterling standing a few feet away, his expression sharp and furious.
The caption read:
Sterling finally snaps at crazy scholarship girl.
My chest tightened.
Below it, thousands of comments scrolled by.
Who even is she?
Another omega chasing fame.
Did she really think the Alpha would want her?
Embarrassing.
I swallowed hard.
“I didn’t do anything,” I whispered.
“I know,” Sara said fiercely. “They don’t care.”
I handed the phone back, suddenly exhausted. “I should go to class.”
“Are you serious?”
“If I skip, they win.”
Sara studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. But I’m walking you.”
The campus felt different in the morning.
Or maybe I did.
Every sound was sharper. Conversations blurred together until I caught pieces I wasn’t meant to hear.
“…the girl from the gym…”
“…fainted like she was mated or something…”
“…Caleb looked pissed…”
My pulse picked up.
The pull was there too, faint but constant, like a background hum under my skin. Not painful. Just… present. A reminder I couldn’t shake.
You are becoming aware, Dorcan murmured.
“Stop,” I whispered under my breath.
Sara glanced at me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
We reached the main quad. Students clustered everywhere, laughing, flirting, living lives untouched by fate or packs or public humiliation.
Then I saw him.
Caleb stood near the fountain, surrounded by teammates and cameras. Actual cameras. A sports channel logo flashed on the side of a drone hovering overhead.
Of course.
He laughed at something someone said, easy and charming, the same golden boy smile plastered on his face like nothing had happened.
Like I hadn’t collapsed at his feet.
Like he hadn’t told me to stay away from him.
The thread inside me tightened painfully.
Liar, Dorcan said quietly.
I looked away.
“Hey,” Sara muttered. “Eyes forward.”
We walked past, but I could feel it the second he noticed me. The air thickened. My steps faltered.
I didn’t look. I refused to.
Still, I felt it. The sudden spike of heat. The way my heartbeat synced to something heavier, stronger.
Then his voice carried across the quad.
“Clear the space.”
The crowd parted instantly.
I stopped walking.
Sara cursed softly. “Elena, don’t.”
Too late.
Caleb approached, his expression cool, distant, like we were strangers. Like we hadn’t shared that electric moment in the gym. Like he hadn’t felt it too.
“Are you following me now?” he asked flatly.
I blinked. “What?”
He gestured around us. “You’ve been staring since you got here.”
“That’s not true,” I said, my cheeks burning. “I didn’t even look at you.”
“Then explain this.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Why do I feel like this when you’re around?”
My breath caught.
Sara stiffened. “Back up.”
He ignored her, eyes locked on mine. The pull flared so hard I nearly gasped.
“Caleb,” I whispered, not knowing what I was about to say. “I don’t understand it either.”
Something flickered across his face.
Fear.
Then it vanished.
“You’re imagining things,” he said coldly. “Stay away from me.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
He turned on his heel and walked back toward the cameras, already smiling again, already someone else.
The crowd buzzed.
I stood there, shaking.
Sara grabbed my arm. “Come on.”
Classes were a blur.
I sat in the back, hoodie pulled low, trying to focus on lectures while my body hummed with energy that had nowhere to go. Every time someone walked past, I flinched, half-expecting that invisible thread to yank tight again.
It didn’t.
Not until midday.
I was shelving books in the library for my afternoon job when the pain hit.
Sharp. Sudden.
I gasped, gripping the edge of the desk as heat surged through me. Images flashed behind my eyes—golden eyes glowing, a massive wolf pacing, claws digging into stone.
He’s fighting it, Dorcan said.
“Fighting what?” I whispered.
You.
Tears burned my eyes.
“Why?” I asked.
Because he is afraid. And because his father taught him fear is strength.
Alpha Marcus.
I’d heard the name before. Everyone had. The Bloodmoon Alpha. Cold. Ruthless. Obsessed with legacy.
I slumped into the chair behind the desk, breathing hard.
A shadow fell over me.
I looked up.
Caleb stood there, jaw tight, eyes blazing with something dangerously close to panic.
“You need to stop this,” he said.
My hands trembled. “Stop what?”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Whatever game you’re playing.”
“I’m not playing a game,” I said. “I’m barely surviving one.”
The truth slipped out before I could stop it.
Something in his expression cracked.
For a heartbeat, the arrogant Alpha disappeared, replaced by a confused, overwhelmed twenty-one-year-old who hadn’t planned for fate to knock his perfect life sideways.
Then footsteps echoed behind him.
He straightened instantly.
“Get up,” he said under his breath. “Now.”
“What?”
“Come with me.”
“No,” I said, fear spiking. “I’m not—”
“Please,” he hissed, the word clearly foreign on his tongue. “Before someone sees.”
I hesitated.
The pull tightened, warm and insistent.
I stood.
He led me into a quiet study room, shutting the door behind us. The moment it clicked closed, the tension snapped.
“You can’t be near me,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “This can’t happen.”
“I didn’t choose this,” I shot back. “Do you think I wanted to be mocked online? Or collapse in front of half the school?”
Silence stretched between us.
His shoulders sagged slightly. “My life is under a microscope.”
“So is mine,” I said softly. “Only nobody cares if it breaks.”
He looked at me then. Really looked.
And for the first time, I saw guilt in his eyes.
“This bond,” he said carefully. “If it’s real… it will destroy everything.”
My chest ached. “Maybe some things deserve to be destroyed.”
He flinched.
Then his expression hardened.
“Stay away from me,” he repeated. “If you don’t… I will make sure you regret it.”
- Writer
