Fated to Three Alpha Brothers

Summer The cafeteria went quiet when I walked in. Not the good kind of quiet — not the kind that meant someone important had arrived. It was the other kind. The kind that pressed against your skin like a held breath, waiting to see what cruelty today would bring. I kept my eyes down and moved to the end of the lunch line, the way I always did. The way I'd learned to. Don't make eye contact. Don't take up space. Don't exist too loudly. "Look who it is." The voice belonged to Cara Holt, daughter of our pack's Beta, and the closest thing Crescent Ridge had to royalty in the school hallways. I heard the scrape of her chair as she stood. "The wolfless wonder. Didn't you get the memo, Summer? The omega table is still too good for you." A few people laughed. Most just watched. I picked up a tray and stared at the metal runner along the counter. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Orange juice. Focus on the small things. That's what my mom used to say. When the world gets big and mean, Summer, make your world small. Find the nearest small thing and hold onto it. She'd told me that the morning of the accident. I'd been fourteen, complaining about some stupid argument I'd had with a girl at school. Something so forgettable I couldn't even remember what it was about anymore. By that afternoon, both my parents were gone. "Hey." Cara snapped her fingers in the air like I was a dog she was trying to get the attention of. The irony of that was not lost on me. "I'm talking to you." I took a bread roll and put it on my tray. "Seriously?" She was closer now. I could smell her perfume — something floral and expensive that the Alpha's son had probably bought her. "You're just going to ignore me?" The lunch lady behind the counter, Mrs. Perkins, kept her eyes firmly on the scrambled eggs she was scooping. Nobody looked. Nobody stepped in. That was the way of things when you were ranked below omega. When the pack had looked at you, assessed your worth, and found nothing. Wolfless. It wasn't just an insult. It was my official designation. Four years ago, when I'd turned fourteen and every other wolf my age had felt the first tremors of their shift, I'd felt nothing. Not even a flicker. The pack's elder had pressed two fingers to my sternum and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was nothing in his face but pity. She carries no wolf, he'd said, quietly enough that I'd thought maybe it wouldn't spread. It spread by dinner. The lowest omega in the pack still had their wolf. Still had something that made them one of us. Me? I was a human girl living on pack land, taking up space, eating pack resources. When my parents had been alive, their rank had protected me. My father had been a respected warrior. My mother had run the pack's medical clinic. But they were gone, and their rank had died with them. I found my usual seat at the far corner of the cafeteria, back against the wall, facing the room the way my father had always taught me. Always know your exits, Summer-girl. Another thing I held onto. One of hundreds of small inheritances he hadn't meant to leave me. I'd almost taken my first bite of toast when Cara's hand slapped flat on the table in front of me. I looked up. She was beautiful, the way predators often are. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, the amber eyes that most wolves in Crescent Ridge shared. Standing behind her were two of her friends whose names I'd long since stopped bothering to remember. "I asked you a question," she said. "You made a statement," I said. "There wasn't a question." Her eyes flashed. That was my problem — I was bad at silence when it mattered most. "You know what I heard?" She leaned down, dropping her voice like she was sharing a secret. "I heard Alpha Hale is looking for an excuse to throw you out. Officially. You've been living in that house on the edge of pack territory for four years like some little charity case, and patience is running out." She tilted her head. "Where would you even go? You're not wolf enough to survive on your own, and no other pack would take something like you." Something. Not someone. I stared at her. "Are you done?" "Careful." Her smile thinned. "My boyfriend doesn't like it when people disrespect me." As if on cue, I felt the shift in the room before I saw him. Finn Hale moved like he owned the air around him, which, technically, he did. He was the Alpha's son and everyone in Crescent Ridge knew it. Tall, broad-shouldered, with his father's sharp jaw and his mother's cold eyes. He would take over the pack someday. He was already practicing. He dropped into the seat across from me without being invited and propped his chin on his hand, studying me with the kind of attention that made my skin crawl. "Summer Henley," he said, like my name was something he was testing the weight of. "You eating alone again?" "I prefer it." "That's sad." He didn't sound like he thought it was sad. He reached over and picked up my bread roll, turned it over in his fingers, then set it back down. A small, stupid power move that meant nothing and everything. I can touch your things. You can't stop me. "Homecoming's Friday." I said nothing. "You going?" I said nothing. "You should go." His eyes didn't match his easy tone. They never did. "It'd be good for you. Show the pack you're trying to be part of things." "Finn." Cara's voice had shifted, just slightly. Even she knew when he was doing the thing that made people uncomfortable. "I'm just being friendly." He stood, unhurried, and looked down at me with something I could never quite name. Not hatred. Something more complicated. "Friday, Summer. Think about it." He walked away, and Cara followed, and the cafeteria exhaled. I looked down at my bread roll and found I wasn't hungry anymore. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The house on the edge of pack territory was small and always cold, no matter how high I turned the heat. It had been my parents' house once — full of my mother's plants and my father's books and the smell of whatever was always simmering on the stove. Now it was just walls and furniture and me. I was heating up soup when I heard the mail slot. At nearly eight o'clock at night, that was unusual. I set down the ladle and walked to the front door. On the mat was a single envelope, thick and cream-colored, sealed with dark green wax pressed into the shape of a wolf mid-howl. Not the Crescent Ridge wolf — a different sigil. One I didn't recognize. My name was written on the front in careful, deliberate handwriting. Miss Summer Henley. I picked it up slowly, like it might bite, and carried it to the kitchen table. I turned it over in my hands for a long moment before I broke the seal. Inside was a single folded letter and something else — something that slipped out and caught the kitchen light before I could grab it. A necklace. A thin gold chain, and hanging from it, a pendant: a deep green emerald, oval-shaped, the size of my thumbnail. It was warm when I touched it, which made no sense, because it had been sitting in an envelope. But it was warm, like it had been resting against someone's skin. I set it down carefully and unfolded the letter. Dear Summer, You don't know me, but I knew your father. We grew up together, long before either of us had packs or territory or any of the responsibilities that came later. Daniel Henley was my closest friend for many years, and when you were born, he did me the honor of asking me to be your godfather. I know you have no reason to trust this letter. I know things in Crescent Ridge have been difficult since you lost your parents, and I am sorry — more sorry than I can properly say — that it took me this long to reach out to you. There were complicated reasons for the silence. I will explain them in person, if you'll allow me. I would like you to come and stay with us. My home is Hearthstone Estate, in the territory of the Hearthstone Pack. You would have a room, safety, and a place where your worth is not measured by something as arbitrary as a shift. The necklace is an emerald from our territory. Any wolf from Hearthstone will recognize it and know you are under my protection. It will grant you safe passage across the border. I hope you'll consider it. I hope, more than that, that you'll say yes. With respect and long-overdue care, Alpha Darren Voss Hearthstone Pack I read it three times. Then I sat very still in my cold kitchen with the emerald warm in my palm, and I thought about what it meant to be wanted somewhere. I thought about it for a long time. - - - To be continued - - -