Rejected By The Hockey Alpha

CHAPTER 4

Harper's POV

Ryker's light brown eyes glinted in the morning sun. Ordinary and human, but all I saw was red. I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling as I took a few steps back.

Why the hell was he here?

Was he following me?

"Good morning," I said sharply, my eyes narrowing on him.

He leaned against the entrance of the hallway, his arms folded over his chest. His white shirt clung to his broad shoulders and his wavy brown hair fell all over his face as if he'd just stepped out of the shower.

A cocky smirk tugged at his lips and the knot in my chest tightened.

"Slept well?" He asked as though he knew I didn't close my eyes all through the night.

As if last night never happened.

But I remembered the glow. The way his eyes felt unnatural. Every memory of last night was etched into my brain.

"You are early," I managed to say, a forced smile stretching on my lips.

Hockey players didn't come to school early. They didn't even come anywhere close to the library.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, a grin curling at the corners of his lips. "Could say the same about you, Harper."

There was something in the way he said my name, that made my stomach shiver with fear.

Staring closely at him now, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was scary about him. For a brief second, the image of a wolf flashed in my mind and I almost screamed. Fear crawled over my skin in an instant.

"I have things to do," I muttered under my breath.

His eyes narrowed. "Things like?"

"Not your business, Ryker," I snapped at him.

It was already enough that he was suddenly showing up around me since yesterday. I did not need him to know more about me than he already knew.

I clutched my backpack tighter and stepped to the side, ready to brush past him. However, his arm shot out, his palm flat against the wall, as he blocked my way.

"Relax, Cole," he said my last name smoothly, that smug grin still tugging at his lips. "I'm just making conversation."

The way he casually said it made my skin prickle. His voice was calm and steady, but there was something flickering in his eyes. Something I couldn't unsee no matter how much I wanted to.

I swallowed the ball of frustration in my throat. "Move, Ryker."

For a moment, he didn't move. He just studied me, tilting his head like I was some puzzle he was dying to solve. Then, he finally pushed off the wall and stepped aside with a lazy half bow.

"After you."

I hurried past him, my white sneakers echoing against the floor. I didn't look back, but I could feel him behind me. His gaze burned into my back, trailing me down the hallway.

My heart pounded heavily like I'd just run sprints. Something was wrong with Ryker and I knew it.

And the scariest part?

A tiny, reckless part of me wanted to know what it was.

In the evening, I was sitting in the press box, my eyes fixed on the typewriter before me. However, my mind was somewhere else. On werewolves and what I'd read about them in the library today.

Werewolves were real!

They lived in the midst of humans and couldn't be differentiated except they showed their true colours.

Was it possible that Ryker was a werewolf?

I shook off the thought in an instant. Ryker wouldn't be in this college if he was a werewolf. I told myself.

"Harper," my father's voice reached my ears and pulled me out of my spiraling thought.

I blinked and turned towards him. He stood a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets. He watched me with that calm, unreadable expression he always wore.

I forced a smile. "Hey, Dad. You are early."

"Practice ran late, but I thought I'd check in on you," he said in a steady tone.

His eyes flickered briefly towards the typewriter as if he already knew that I wasn't working.

"You look distracted again," his eyebrows furrowed.

My stomach flipped. Distracted was an understatement. I'd been sitting there for almost two hours, typing the same sentence, deleting it, then typing it again, because my brain wouldn't stop replaying the way Ryker looked at me this morning. The way he blocked my path and the way his eyes...

I shook it off. "Just tired, dad," I mumbled, shaking my head.

My dad stepped closer, his voice low like he didn't want someone else to hear him speak. "Harper, if something is bothering you, you can tell me."

Something in his tone made my heart skip. It wasn't just a fatherly concern. It was heavier and sharper, like he knew more than he was letting on.

I bit my lower lip, hesitating for a moment. "Do you believe in werewolves?" The question rolled off my tongue before I could stop it.

The silence that followed my question was a vacuum. My dad's jaw tightened. His eyes, which were usually soft, went dark and guarded.

"Why would you ask me that?" His voice was too calm.

My pulse spiked up crazily. I didn't expect him to laugh it off, but I also didn't expect him to be this calm.

"No reason," my lips lied quickly.

I fumbled with my notebook, my eyes not leaving his. "I was just curious. I read some stuff in the library earlier today."

He studied me for a long, tense moment. Then, he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Stay away from that kind of nonsense, Harper. Some stories aren't meant to be dug up." He spat, then, turned and walked away hurriedly.

My mouth fell open as I stared at the door my dad just left through. There was something about the way he said those words. They didn't sound like a warning.

They sounded like experience, like there was something he was hiding from me.