Guarded by Two Alpha Knights

Chapter 4

Ara’s POV

After algebra and history classes, I feel like I’m on the verge of perishing from hunger.

The cafeteria is like a battlefield, its dense aroma of food teasing my empty stomach. But the reality of the prices makes me retreat.

I have less than $500 left on my card, a stash meticulously saved from doing assignments for others during middle school. I need a part-time job soon to cover my ever-looming daily expenses and future college fees. But since I'm not 18 yet, where on earth can I find work? I can't risk doing assignments for others anymore. I don’t want to let Ms. Sarah down.

While I'm deep in thought, someone shoves me forward, nearly sending me sprawling.

“Move!”

I stagger, trying not to drop my dignity along with my balance. Quiet laughter ripples through the students around me. I decide to ignore them, opting for the dignity-saving move of picking up a tray, grabbing a portion of pasta and a salad, and scanning for a free seat in the cafeteria chaos.

Today is only my second day at The Ivy Private High School.

Things haven’t gotten any simpler.

“May I sit here?” I ask hopefully.

“No,” a girl replies quickly. “The seat is taken.”

I move to the next table. Before I can even ask, another girl pipes up, “Hey, this table is already taken.”

I glance from her to the table. “But there are 7 empty seats,” I say incredulously.

“So what?” she replies with an indifferent shrug. “I have seven friends who went to get food.”

“What are you, Snow White and the seven dwarfs?” I mutter under my breath, trying to keep my sarcasm light.

She glares at me wide-eyed, her expression a mixture of annoyance and flattery. She is annoyed because I implied her friends were dwarfs, assuming they exist. But at the same time she is pleased because I likened her to Snow White.

I quickly retreat to the next target table.

“f**k off, b***h,” a girl swears at me, flipping me off.

I recognize her as Jasmine, one of Bianca’s posse. Not eager for any more drama, I turn away and wander aimlessly, hoping to find a spare seat. Just as I consider giving up and eating while standing, a warm voice calls from my left.

“Hey, you could sit here.”

I turn to see a dark-haired boy smiling at me with warmth, his eyes twinkling with a charm that feels slightly rehearsed. He has a handsome face. Full lips part in a grin.

His black T-shirt, snug and perfectly fitting, sports "The Golden Knight" boldly across the chest, hinting at an aura of confidence. His posture is relaxed, leaning casually against the table as if he owns the room.

As he gestures to the empty seat across from him with an inviting nod, I can't help but sigh in relief. “Thanks,”I say, before setting my tray down and slipping into the seat.

The boy nods and leans back slightly as the cafeteria around us buzzes with the chatter of students.

“Finding a seat at lunch isn’t easy,” he remarks, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret just between us.

“Yeah,” I agree, taking a big bite of pasta. The rich taste of tomatoes and basil fills my mouth, providing a brief moment of blissful distraction.

“Are you on a diet?” he asks, gesturing to my modest portion with a teasing grin.

That’s because I can’t afford more.

“The weather is too hot, kind of kills my appetite,” I lie, not wanting to reveal my financial struggles.

He nods knowingly. “I’m Harry, by the way,” he says, as if the name comes with its own charm.

“Ara,” I reply, offering a tentative smile. “Thank you for giving me a spot to eat.”

“People who don’t offer you a seat are fools,” he declares with a wink. “You’re the most charming girl in the school.”

I nearly choke on my pasta. His flirty comment catches me off guard, throwing me into a whirlwind of flattery and unease. “Thanks for the kind words,” I manage to say. “But I know I’m not a beauty.”

“How do you know that?” he challenges, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes firmly on me.

“I don’t stand out in a crowd,” I admit, feeling a little awkward under the sudden spotlight.

“That’s their blindness,” Harry insists with conviction. “Someone as insightful as me can spot you easily.”

My cheeks grow warm. I lower my gaze to the tray, the attention making me squirm. “It’s very nice of you,” I say, trying to maintain my composure.

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a smile that’s more than a little charming. “Can I have your phone number?”

I hesitate, feeling flustered. Eventually, his persistence wins over my nervousness, and I take his phone to type in my number.

“Lovely. I’ll call you,” he says smoothly, then adds with a casual, confident air, “There’s a party Friday night. Would you like to come?”

I wonder if attending means paying, but I’m too embarrassed to voice my concern aloud.

“Um…I’m not sure, I…” I stammer, feeling cornered by both his invitation and the unfamiliar social dynamics.

“You could be my date,” Harry suggests, his tone like honey. “I’ll introduce you to everyone, help you make new friends. How about it?”

“Thank you for the invitation, but I…” I begin, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest, “I need time to think about it.”

“You need time to think?” Harry echoes, genuine surprise coloring his voice, as if he's not used to hearing anything but immediate acceptance. “What’s there to consider?”

“I…I…I…” The words catch in my throat, and I can’t help but stutter under his persistent questioning.

Great. I’m stuttering again.

A tide of frustration sweeps over me. I hate how easily I get nervous when I need to turn someone down. I can’t even manage a firm “NO.” It’s in moments like these that the memories flood back. Echoes of scolding voices and the looming shadow of my dad’s fists, each recollection a shard that chips away at my confidence.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My mind races with how to handle this unexpectedly intense attention. It's as flattering as it is overwhelming, leaving me feeling both flattered and far out of my depth.

He doesn’t give me any more time. His face hardens, eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and disbelief. “Do you know who I am?” he demands, as if my lack of admiration is some grave insult.

Seriously? He’s the second person to ask me that question. Is everyone at this school so notorious that I’m supposed to know their names?

I blink at him, trying to remain composed despite the mounting tension.

“I’m the forward on the hockey team,” Harry boasts, his tone dripping with arrogance. “Out there, countless girls want to date me, beg me for attention. You should know this is a precious invitation. You should say, ‘I feel honored and I agree.’”

“Thank you for the invite, but I…I have the right to think it over,” I say firmly, though I can feel my heart racing with a mixture of fear and determination.

“Fine. Have you decided now?” he asks dismissively, as if the very concept of rejection is inconceivable to him.

“Yes, I’ve decided.” I take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage. “I decline.”

“What?” His eyes widen, shock overtaking his features.

“I decline,” I repeat, louder this time, my voice steady despite the quiver of fear beneath it.

“How dare you turn down an invitation from me!” he exclaims, his anger flaring up, filling the space between us.“Take back that rejection!”

“Sorry, but no. If you want a sure answer, go…go to those other girls. I’m sure they’re more convenient to reach. Why me?” I counter, my voice edged with a blend of sarcasm and defiance, though internally I’m bracing for his retaliation.

“I suggest you reconsider. It’s not too late to change your mind…” he warns, his voice low, almost a growl.

“I won’t change my…my mind,” I cut him off, feeling an unexpected thrill of empowerment in my small rebellion.

“Mind you, I have a lot of Alpha friends at school,” he says, trying to sound menacing.

“So?” I challenge, refusing to back down.

“No matter who your mate might be, I’ll make sure they reject you,” he threatens, his voice heavy with smug confidence. “And you know what happens when a mate rejects you. You’ll shift publicly. Imagine that video online.”

I press my lips together and respond, “Then go ahead, see if I…I reject them first or…or they reject me. Also, how can…can you be so sure my mate will side with you instead of protecting me?”

Harry is infuriated by my defiance. In a sudden burst of anger, he stands abruptly, shoving me back against the wall. Around us, students gasp, forks clattering to their trays in shock as they witness the escalation.

“You should just disappear, b***h,” he spits out, his demeanor turning ugly and spiteful.

“No, you…you disappear, asshole,” I fire back, while my heart hammers with adrenaline and fear.

Despite the horror of the situation, I feel a spark of stubborn pride. I won't let him—or anyone—break me.

The cafeteria becomes an electric storm of whispers and eyes, drawing more people into our confrontation. I spot Bianca clutching Jack, her face alight with surprise and a sick thrill as the scene plays out before her.

“Brother!” Bianca calls out in a sweet, yet triumphant voice. “She’s the one. Teach her a lesson.”

At that moment, it all clicks for me. The realization that Bianca's brother is standing before me sends a chill down my spine. Harry’s earlier approach, his friendliness. It was all a facade. What could have happened if I’d agreed to that party?

I shudder at the thought.

Just as my thoughts spiral, Jack steps up. He gently but firmly nudges Bianca aside and grabs Harry’s shoulder with authority. “Enough,” he declares, his voice carrying a calm strength that causes the cafeteria's buzz to falter.

“This is my business,” Harry protests. “You should stay out of it, captain."

Jack meets his gaze unwaveringly. “Are you trying to teach me what to do?” he counters, his tone low and filled with an undeniable certainty that silences any retort.

Harry's bravado falters, and he finally mutters, “No.”

“Great. Now move,” Jack commands,

With a gentle yet assertive tug, Jack pulls me away from Harry’s grasp, his protectiveness enveloping me like a shield. His presence is magnetic, effortlessly parting the sea of onlookers who can only watch in awe.

A gentle breeze drifts through the cafeteria, suddenly transporting me back to that day in the wheat field. The chaos of people around us blurs, becoming nothing more than wisps of straw waving in the wind.