Accidentally Bitten by The Alpha

Chapter 3

Looking through my things I do my best to see what’s there and what isn’t. I found most of what was missing on the beach, but there is one thing very noticeably gone.

My boat ticket home.

“That bastard! He took my ticket.” I scream as I hoist the box into my arms and drag myself down the main street to the dock. A few cars honk at me, laughing when they see the word on my box as I make my walk of shame towards the boat terminal. I already feel miserable. Not only was my night a rollercoaster of emotions, but I have the strangest pain in my neck. It itches and burns at the same time.

But I don’t have time to stop and look at whatever the hell is going on with my neck. Looking up at the darkening sky, a raindrop falls into my eye, forcing me to blink. A storm is coming.

I need to get on that boat.

When I arrive, the terminal is dark as an attendant begins shuttering the windows with metal screens that darken everything, but protect us from broken glass as the wind starts to shift and batters the panes.

Rushing to the main gate I turn the corner.

“s**t,” I exhale. Jake and Nate are standing at the terminal, that curly-haired b***h standing next to them carrying my suitcase.

Jake is arguing with the ticket man about something, so he doesn’t notice me until I slam the box down at his feet.

“Hey Asshole,” I shriek at his back. “Give me back my goddamned ticket.”

Jake turns towards me, his lip curling, his nostrils flaring as he looks me up and down with distaste. “You f****d him, didn’t you?”

“And you f****d her,” I point to the curly-haired stranger who doesn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I think we’re even.”

“You smell like his w***e,” Jake continues to snarl, baring his teeth like he might try to bite me if I moved any closer. “His scent is all over you. How can you stand to be yourself right now?”

Nate smirks in the corner, while the girl giggles. I don’t understand what’s so funny about any of this. Also, Jake was the one to cheat first. I was just getting even.

“Why bother, Jake, she’s just a tramp,” the girl mocks, looking me up and down with a callous sneer. “Not like she’s the first Zane’s taken to his bed.”

Turning on her I feel the last thread of sanity snap. I’m too exhausted to be mocked by my ex-boyfriend’s fling. “Is this f*****g funny to you? Is it a game for you, b***h, f*****g other people’s men? What makes you so much better than me?”

“Everything,” she laughs, tilting her head back. I hate how beautiful she is. “If he were yours, I wouldn’t be able to steal him, child. Jake and I go way back. You could even say we’re childhood sweethearts.”

“You don’t owe her an explanation, Zelda,” Jake pulls her in close. “She’s the one who f****d up.”

Inhaling, I close my eyes and do my best to calm down. This is getting me nowhere. “Look, Jake, I just want my ticket so I can go home. You can do whatever you want with her and my luggage, even call me a w***e, but I need to get home, please, to start classes. This is my last year and…”

“Not my problem,” Jake interrupts me. “And it’s my ticket, I bought it. If you want help, go back to your new boy toy.”

The ticket vendor, who is eyeing us both with a look of confusion, asks Jake as politely as he can, whether or not he wants to cash in his tickets or reschedule for a spring departure. “We’re sorry, sir, but the last boat left 15 minutes ago.”

“WHAT!” I shout, not thinking of my tone nor the fact that I’m still standing next to my jerk ex-boyfriend. Jake also swears but seems a bit less disturbed by the news. At least he can stay with his family whereas I don’t have anywhere else to go.

“That isn’t just a storm,” the man behind the ticket counter continues, “It’s a class-5 hurricane. You all need to find shelter immediately,” he grimaces as he begins gathering his things. “The next boat won’t be leaving until April, when tourism season starts again.”

Fuck. I’m screwed.

I don’t want to spend another minute with Jake, especially now that I know we aren’t going home. Maybe Zane can help me find a place to shelter until the storm has passed and I can find another way off this damn island.

Grabbing my box, I race back down the street the same way that I came. Where was his house? It was just off the main street, near the north beach. Red shingles. Yellow door. What was the number? s**t! s**t! s**t!

The wind whips up around me, the storm cold and crisp as I struggle to find the place I woke up this morning. The problem is, all of these little beach houses look the same. How am I supposed to find the right one?

I pause to catch my breath and as I look out onto the beach, I watch a cyclone swirl into existence, the gray clouds colliding, lightning flashing in the darkening gloom. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time, making my heart catch and my hands shake.

The storm is real, and it’s headed this way.

Beneath the clouds on the cold beach, someone else is watching the storm. Feeling drawn to him, I take a step forward. Even though we’re nowhere near each other, his head tilts as if hearing my footsteps, just before he turns to face me with his bright, green eyes.

It’s Zane, it has to be. Nobody else has eyes quite like his. Just like at the bonfire, I feel naked beneath his gaze, as if he could see straight into my soul.

He’ll help me, I know he will. He has to.

Setting down my box, I run to meet him on the sandy beach. He doesn’t move any closer but he also doesn’t move away as I rush forward. It reminds me of going to the zoo and stepping up to a fenced enclosure for a dangerous animal. Even in those videos that show someone falling into the enclosure and being mauled by a bear or a tiger, the animal doesn’t move, not at first, not until it knows it has you.

It doesn’t rush at the fence, but patiently waits, watching, for you to fall in.

“Zane, um, it’s Felicity…I…” I sound stupid, reintroducing myself when only a few hours ago my legs were spread for him as he pounded his way home. “I was wondering if I could…”

“No,” he answers simply and then looks down at my shirt. Actually, his shirt, which I borrowed this morning in desperation to get home. “Who gave you permission to wear that?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have any clothes and,” I ramble, “It’s just…you weren’t around to ask and I was naked so I…borrowed it.”

“Forget about it,” he cuts me off, his voice lacking depth or emotion. “Keep it. Whatever.” When I don’t move at his obvious dismissal he adds, “What do you want?”

“Shelter,” I beg, looking at the storm over his shoulder. “A storm is blowing in and I…”

“Not my problem,” Zane cuts me off, not even bothering to hear my plea or my reasoning. Shrugging, he walks off, leaving me alone on the beach without an explanation or any way to help myself.

What am I going to do now?

Pulling my phone out of my battered box of stuff, I send gratitude to whatever gods are listening when I see that it still has reception. If I’m stuck on this island, I need to figure out what I’m going to do about school.

Luckily, my degree advisor, Dr. McKenna Graves, answers on the first ring.

“Felicity, I was expecting you to visit me later today?” her sweet voice crackles as the reception grows less and less reliable as the storm blocks the satellites. “Where are you, the connection sounds terrible.”

“Artemisia Island,” I explain and then spend the next 10 minutes detailing my situation.By the time I’m done complaining, I am hyperventilating as I try not to cry.

“Calm down, Ms. Dawson, take a few deep breaths,” she attempts to calm me all the way across the continent. “It sounds like you’re stuck there for the school year.”

I can’t help but groan. Being stuck on this island means losing my financial aid. I need that money to pay for things like food and rent, not to mention books and tuition.

“But there’s some good news!” I can almost see her optimistic smile through the phone. “You can transfer all of your units into your degrees, and receive your financial aid, you just need to apply for the local university.”

I listen as she clicks through the website for the local college. Apparently, this tiny island has a world-class community college with units that transfer back to all the major universities on the mainland.

“You might need to take one extra class when you get back,” Dr. Graves warns, “But as long as you complete your practicum here in Eugene, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Thanking her, I hang up and head towards the address she sent to my phone. I don’t really know where I’m going, but just as the rain starts to pour, I find a sign pointing towards the university.

“Thank God,” I sigh as I rush towards the school building. The doors are locked, so I bang as loudly as I can.

At first I don’t think there’s going to be any answer, but eventually a disgruntled janitor opens the door. “I’m sorry miss but…” he tilts his head, staring at me for a moment, his nostrils flaring.

The way he stares makes me self-conscious and I find my hand flying up to the bite mark, now inflamed and burning with heat. “Please, sir. I need help. The storm…”

The man’s eyes flash as he reaches for my arm. “Who are you? You don’t smell like you are from around here.”