Morning in the Alpha’s house felt like walking through someone else’s life.
I stayed in my room until the last possible minute, listening to footsteps and low voices downstairs. When I finally came down, my mother was already at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee, smiling like this was normal. Tristan sat across from her, scrolling through his phone, a half-eaten piece of toast on his plate. He didn’t look up right away, but I felt the shift in the air the second I entered.
“Morning, Phyna,” my mother said brightly. “There’s food if you’re hungry.”
“I’m fine.” My voice came out quieter than I intended.
Tristan’s eyes lifted then. Slow. Deliberate. He took in my simple black hoodie, the way I kept my hair down to hide most of my face, the bag hanging off one shoulder. Something unreadable flickered across his expression before he looked back at his phone.
“School starts in twenty,” he said, like he was reminding the room and not just me. “Don’t be late on your first day.”
I didn’t answer. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and walked out without looking at either of them.
The drive to school was short, but it felt endless. I sat in the passenger seat of my mother’s car, staring out the window while she talked about how nice everyone would be and how this pack was different. I nodded at the right moments and said nothing real.
When we pulled up in front of the large brick building, my stomach tightened.
Students filled the front steps and parking lot. Most of them carried the scent of the same pack—strong, settled, and used to being at the top. I kept my head down as I got out of the car, pulled my hood a little lower, and walked straight toward the entrance.
I made it ten steps before I heard the laughter.
A group of girls stood near the main doors, surrounding someone I already recognized too well. Tristan leaned against the wall like he owned it, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a girl’s phone while she leaned in close to show him something. Two more girls stood on either side of him, laughing at whatever he said. He looked completely at ease—popular, untouchable, and very much the center of everything.
I turned my face away and kept walking.
Inside, the hallways were louder. Lockers slammed. Someone called Tristan’s name from behind me. I didn’t look back. I found my first class early and took a seat in the back corner, as far from the door as possible. If I stayed quiet enough, maybe no one would notice the new Beta who had suddenly appeared in their territory.
The plan almost worked.
Almost.
Halfway through second period, the door opened and Tristan walked in. He wasn’t even in this class—I had checked the schedule twice—but the teacher only gave him a brief nod, like this happened often. Tristan’s eyes scanned the room once. When they landed on me, they stopped.
He didn’t smile.
He walked straight down the aisle and dropped into the empty seat beside me like it had been waiting for him.
My pulse jumped so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“You’re hard to find,” he said under his breath, voice low enough that only I could hear.
I kept my eyes on my notebook. “Maybe I didn’t want to be found.”
A soft huff of laughter left him. “That’s cute.”
I finally looked at him. Up close, the honey-brown of his eyes looked darker, sharper. There was something restless behind them, something that made my wolf press against my ribs.
“You shouldn’t sit here,” I whispered. “People will talk.”
“Let them.”
“I’m serious, Tristan. I don’t want trouble.”
He leaned in slightly, close enough that his scent wrapped around me—clean, warm, and heavily Alpha. My fingers tightened around my pen.
“You’re already trouble,” he murmured. “You just don’t know it yet.”
The bell rang before I could answer. Students started packing up, and the girls near the front immediately turned to look for him. One of them called his name. Tristan stood slowly, still watching me.
“Lunch is in the courtyard,” he said. “Don’t hide from me again.”
Then he walked away like he hadn’t just tilted my entire day off balance.
I stayed in my seat long after the room emptied, staring at the empty chair beside me.
Staying invisible was going to be harder than I thought.
And Tristan didn’t look like the kind of person who accepted the word ''no