Bound by the Alpha Twins

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Wolves Close In

Rihanna’s POV

The night air bites at my skin as I step out of the school gym. Cold and sharp, like little needles on my cheeks. Snow crunches under my boots, and clouds of breath fog the air in front of me. It’s freezing, but I don’t care. I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid — like punch one of those Blackwood twins right in his smug, perfect face.

Roy and Troy Blackwood. Just thinking their names makes my jaw tighten. Who do they think they are? Swooping in with their stupid alpha energy, acting like they can claim me with one little kiss. No, not one — two. Two kisses from two guys who think the world revolves around them.

My lips still tingle. Stupid lips.

I rub at them like I’m scrubbing away a stain, but it doesn’t help. I hate that I can still feel them there — the weight of Roy's steady control, the heat of Troy’s reckless fire.

"Ugh!" I groan, tilting my head back to glare at the stars like they’re responsible for my terrible night. The cold seeps into my bones, but I don’t care. It’s better than going back inside. The last thing I want is to see Ethan and Amber playing Happy Mates Forever on the dance floor.

“Leaving so soon?”

I freeze. The voice is smooth, deep, and far too familiar. Slowly, I turn my head, and there he is. Roy. He’s leaning casually against the brick wall, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his sharp silver-gray eyes locked on me.

My pulse jumps. How long has he been standing there?

I keep my face blank. “Yeah, I figured I’d leave before the royalty showed up.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face. “Too late for that, Calloway.”

I roll my eyes and start walking. I’m not about to stand around trading words with him. But of course, he follows. His footsteps crunch softly in the snow behind me, steady and unhurried.

“Where’s your partner in crime?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.

“Inside,” Roy says. “But I can handle you on my own.”

I stop walking and spin to face him, eyes narrowing. “Handle me? You think you’re in control here, Blackwood?” I step closer, tilting my head to glare up at him. He’s taller than me, but I don’t care. I’m not backing down. “Let me make something clear. I’m not some little she-wolf waiting to be claimed. I’m not impressed by your alpha posturing, and I definitely don’t need your attention. So back. Off.”

Roy tilts his head like he’s studying me, eyes scanning my face with that quiet intensity that makes me feel like I’m standing under a spotlight. It’s unnerving.

“Done?” he asks, his voice infuriatingly calm.

My fingers curl into fists. “Yeah. I’m done.”

“Good.” He steps forward, closing the space between us so fast I have to tilt my head back to keep eye contact. He’s close — too close — and I can feel the heat of him seeping through the cold.

“Here’s the thing, Calloway,” he says, voice low but firm. “You can tell yourself you’re in control. You can act like you’re untouchable. But the truth?” His eyes narrow, and for a moment, the calm mask slips, revealing something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous underneath. “You’re already on our radar. Me and Troy? We don’t lose what we want.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and it has nothing to do with the cold.

I lean in, standing on my toes so my face is right in front of his. “You want to play games, Blackwood? Fine. But don’t forget — I always play to win.”

He grins, slow and dangerous. “We’ll see.”

I turn on my heel and walk away, heart pounding in my chest. I keep my head high, my steps steady, but every nerve in my body is on edge. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I don’t look back.

---

When I get home, I slam the door shut, kick off my boots, and collapse onto the couch, still fuming. My mom’s working late, so the house is quiet, the only sound the low hum of the heater kicking on. I pull a blanket over me, but I can’t get warm. It’s not the cold that’s bothering me. It’s them.

Roy and Troy Blackwood.

I clench my jaw, replaying every second of that encounter in my head. Roy’s calm stare. Troy’s cocky grin. The way they both kissed me like it was their right. Like they’d decided I was theirs.

I bury my face in my hands, groaning. “What do they want from me?”

No one answers, of course. I’m alone, like always.

---

The next morning, I walk into school with my hood pulled up, hoping I can make it to my locker unnoticed. People are still talking about the party, gossip floating through the air like leaves in the wind. I catch snippets of it as I pass.

“Did you see Amber’s dress? She looked perfect!”

“Ethan’s so lucky. True mates, ugh, it’s so unfair.”

“And then she just stood there while they both kissed her.”

I freeze mid-step. Slowly, I turn my head toward the group of girls whispering by the lockers. They don’t see me, too busy giggling behind their hands.

“Seriously, she looked so shocked,” one of them says, flipping her hair. “Like, girl, two alphas want you, and you’re just standing there? I’d have melted.”

My nails dig into my palms. They saw. They all saw.

My heart pounds harder with each step I take toward my locker. I keep my eyes on the ground, ignoring the stares I can feel following me down the hall. My fingers fumble with the lock, and it takes three tries before it finally clicks open.

“Rough morning?”

My body tenses at the voice behind me. Not him. Not now.

I glance over my shoulder, already knowing what I’ll see. Troy Blackwood, leaning casually against the locker next to mine, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. His grin is sharp and easy, like he knows something I don’t.

“Leave me alone, Troy,” I mutter, shoving my books into my bag.

“Can’t,” he says, and his grin widens. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

I slam my locker shut so hard it echoes down the hall. Heads turn, but I don’t care. I spin to face him, eyes narrowed. “I’m not fun. I’m not yours.”

Troy’s grin falters for just a second, and something flickers in his eyes. Then it’s gone, and he steps closer, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Funny. That’s not what it looked like under the mistletoe.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I shove him back with both hands. He barely moves, just rocks on his heels like I’m a gust of wind.

“Touch me again