Claiming The Rogue Alpha

Anya’s POV, The mirror always tells the truth. I just got good at pretending I didn't see it. I turned my head left and right, watching the sky blue dress catch the light. It was the exact shade I wanted...I made sure of it. I spent twenty minutes at the thrift store with a faded photo pulled up on my phone screen, comparing it to every blue outfit until the vendor couldn't contain her sigh. She looked at me like I had a big problem, and quite frankly maybe I did. Maybe caring this much about a color was pathetic but I did it anyway. He's going to notice this. I told myself, smoothing the rumples down. He's going to see you and he's going to smile, and everything father's been pushing for won't even matter because it'll be real and yours. I heaved a contented sigh. I had to believe that, I needed to believe that. I was still convincing myself I looked good even though I didn't like the contrast on my skin when a harsh knock took me out of my reverie. I opened it abruptly. Dad wasn't dressed yet, he never really was at this hour. Well…unless he got an express delivery or he needed the extra shift to cater to his very extravagant girlfriend Simone’s needs. He had on grey undershirt and sweatpants with an already fraying elastic band, pacing the hallway impatiently. He went still when I stepped out, his eyes running over me slowly. I straightened my back, not wanting early lectures on the postures of a Luna. Then he sniffed the air. He tilted his head and dragged another lungful of air into his nose. "You didn't spray the perfume." Opps I'd totally forgotten about that. Genuinely this time. "I—" "Go back." "Dad, I'm already late—" “Anya!!” He thundered, and that was enough. I went back without waiting for the words to be spelt out, it's better that way. The pink bottle laid isolated at a corner of my table, I made sure of it… gosh I hated gardenias. Father bought it without asking if I liked it, not that it'd make any difference if he asked. Someone at the potion market told him superior wolves went feral for it. That it triggered something instinctive inside them, and that it would make Ryker finally notice me for real. Like I wasn't trying hard enough already. I pressed on the nozzle twice, I shivered as the cold mist hit the skin on my collarbone. Look at you, the voice in my head began... I breathed air in harshly, I was so not ready for this today. Spineless weakling, she continued. Can't even say no without fear. Tell me, how does it feel to wear ugly clothes with the favourite colors of a man that doesn't even care about you. Huh? How do you enjoy walking around reeking of someone's version of you? You– I zoned her out before she could finish that sentence and left the room. Dad's whole face changed the moment I was out of my room door,he nodded slowly in satisfaction with the smile he wears when he knows he's won. "Remember what I said. Stay close to him at lunch. Let him see you. Let him smell you. If he initiates—" "I know, I know, Dad." "You don't act like you know." “I know” I rolled my eyes, making sure to keep my voice low, wouldn't want it to turn into a lecture of respect for elders as a woman and then how I should act as future Luna. But from the way his lips were moving, a lecture was still gonna go on anyway. He kept talking. The same things he always said, arranged in a slightly different order this time. He went on about pack ranking, upliftment, what it meant for our family of two, what it meant for me, as if being someone's Luna was the same as me finally being worth something. I nodded at the right pause, nodded when I was supposed to, made eye contact on cue enough to make him believe I was listening, but inside I'd already left the room. He didn't offer me bus fare. I was thirteen when he stopped. He'd said something about girls needing to stay lean, useful, agile and attractive for a high ranking suitor. Little me had made the mistake of asking about my mate, he'd flared up so aggressively it still makes me shake in my bones today. He made it seem like thirty minutes of walking through exhaust fumes was the ideal fitness routine. I shoved my earbuds in before reaching the mailbox. Whatever was playing matched my irritation, I helping to drown the neighborhood noise. The perfume reached my nose every time the wind shifted, and each time I had to resist wiping my collarbone with my sleeve. In no time Thornfield High appeared the way it always did, immediately and without warning like a hidden haunted castle. Its huge blocky beige and ugly structure towered over the smaller houses next to it, something comparable to a state prison. The grey flag out front hung limp in the windless morning. Someone had spray-painted something on the utility box by the gate again. It said “Incels” this time, a running gag in the school targeted at we who haven't found mates…. I found it disgusting, but others found it quite amusing. Welcome to Thornfield High, where the social hierarchy isn't a metaphor, but legibly written into your blood. Thornfield is what people would call “the merger”. It comprises mostly wolves. If you're a human here, you must be aware of the situation and be related to any of the packs somehow. Faes, same situation and some other minority beings. Well except vampires they were banned no matter the circumstance. We have two major packs here, mainly because it sits in-between both territories. My pack The Silverfangs and the Fenris Obsidian. Hell of hells. That's what we the under dogs called it, where the thing you were born as followed you into every room, sat next to you in every class, and reminded you, in case you'd forgotten for more than five seconds exactly how little space you were allowed to take up. I pulled my hood up, my head down through the main hall and suddenly I clapped my hands over my ears at a squeal. Students were shuffling forward elbowing each other just to get to the front… “The Alphas are at it again.” Someone muttered close to my ear as I pressed toward the lockers. I didn't bother looking. Looking was an invitation and today was not that day. I found my locker in no time… the b***h was being stubborn again, the second number always jammed and I'd told them about it twice. But of course you'll be leaving next year was the silly reply I got. I dumped my stuff out. History, check. English, check. The stupid law packet Mr Viktor keeps calling a living document instead of what it truly was. A propaganda. Check too. I was stuffing the heavy bible into my bag when I felt a huge weight crash into me. It came from the left, a sharp shoulder hitting mine, sending all my books to the ground. I jammed into the locker first, then the whole thing rattled against my spine but I held myself just before falling. My hands caught something. Or rather, someone. Smooth fabric brushed my palm, then solid warmth beneath it, I grabbed on without thinking. My breath seized, waiting for the impact. It came...but it was cushioned. When I opened my eyes, peach skin was the first thing I saw. My gaze slid down the sharp line of a jaw and stopped on plump pink lips. Oh. Oh no.