The Luna's Reluctant Alpha

Chapter Nine

ALEXIS

The air in Lincoln High School felt charged with a kind of static anxiety that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I heard the whispers before I saw the wide-eyed looks and clusters of students huddling around phones, absorbing the news like a dry sponge dropped into a puddle.

"Did you hear about Jenny Lawrence?" Annie's voice trembled as she approached my locker. Her face was ashen, eyes wide with fear.

I nodded, heart sinking. Jenny had always been kind to me, flashing a warm smile as she handed me that extra scoop of gelato, her way of saying 'us omegas have to stick together.' It seemed so trivial now, those little acts of solidarity between us, given what had happened to her.

Principal Rogers' voice crackled over the PA system, recommending a buddy system for omegas. My chest tightened. I could almost taste the collective fear in the air. The usual school chatter was replaced by a solemn silence punctuated by nervous murmurs and hurried footsteps.

Lunchtime didn't offer any respite. The cafeteria buzzed with the same tense energy. I sat with Jamie and Annie, picking at my food, trying not to let my worry show. But it was hard when Caitlin Moore's voice cut through the murmur like a serrated blade.

"Omegas are useless anyway," she laughed to her entourage, "Jenny is probably better off dead."

My fork clattered against my tray. Anger flared hot and quick in my chest. How could she be so cruel?

Meatball Munson, one of Caitlin's lackeys, added his own distasteful comment. "Omegas are good for one thing," he smirked, and the table erupted in laughter.

Their laughter stung like acid on my skin. My hands clenched into fists under the table as I fought to keep my composure.

Then Jared Park stepped up to bat. Jared Park, my sometime frenemy and academic nemesis, the only one who was a direct challenge to my nearly surefire path to valedictorian. His voice carried across the cafeteria, laced with contempt for Caitlin's ignorance. "Omegas are a precious resource that needs to be protected," he said firmly, shutting her down without breaking a sweat.

The crowd erupted into laughter again, but this time it was Caitlin's face that twisted into an ugly scowl, promising retribution.

Jared glanced my way and gave me a chin tilt—a silent 'are you okay?' I managed a small nod in return, grateful for his intervention but too shaken to show it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of whispers and wary glances. Some people were crude; others were kind or concerned—like Mrs. Thompson from history class who asked me twice if I needed someone to walk me home.

PE was another story—another one of Caitlin's friends 'accidentally' tripped me during dodgeball and quipped an insincere "oops" as I hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Mandy Peterson, a beta who was a mathlete like me and good at softball, gave me a hand to pull me up.

When school finally ended, my parents were waiting outside. Mom looked stern; Dad had that pinched look around his eyes he got when he was worried but trying not to show it.

I watched through the car window as pack patrols prowled Cedar Creek's streets—a reminder that danger lurked just beyond our well-manicured lawns and quaint storefronts. Where was Kai in all this?

That evening at home felt like being in a gilded cage. Mom laid down new rules—no going out after dark, no wandering off alone—while Dad checked all the locks twice before bedtime.

Annie texted me that her parents had cracked down too; we shared a digital eye-roll over our protective families.

As I lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling, Caitlin's words echoed mockingly in my head: "useless." A bitter laugh escaped me; she had no idea how right she was—or how wrong.

I couldn't shift into my wolf form like other werewolves could—what chance did I have against a rogue wolf? I might as well be human. Sure, I had martial arts training thanks to Mom and Dad—but could I really take down an attacker with a flying kick?

I shivered despite myself when I felt eyes on me from outside my window—watching... waiting...

Summoning every ounce of courage I had left after today's ordeal, I crept over to pull back the curtain—half expecting glowing eyes staring back at me from the darkness—but there was nothing there except for shadows cast by moonlight through tree branches swaying gently in the night breeze.

My heart still pounded though; primal instincts screaming that something wasn't right—that someone or something had been watching me—and now all I could do was wait for daylight and hope it brought some semblance of safety with it.

***

The air in my room felt thick, like wading through a swamp, and my chest tightened with each shallow breath. My heart drummed a frenzied rhythm against my ribs as if trying to break free from the horror that ensnared my mind. I was trapped, the sounds of a gavel echoing in my ears, and the scent of musty fur and cold iron mingling in the air. I screamed—a raw, desperate sound that tore from my throat as I thrashed against the sheets that twisted around me like shackles.

Pop culture had taught me this was a nightmare, but my waking senses were too acute, too raw. I could feel the course rust of the cage against my fingers, the sting of the icy wind biting at my cheeks. I could taste the acidic tang of fear in the back of my throat.

The dank smell of musty fur permeated in the moist air, blending with a hint of coppery blood and the burn of cold iron.

"Lot number nine," a growling voice bellowed, slicing through the murmurs and whispers that hung in the air like thick fog. The resonating sound of a gavel striking wood echoed around me. "Sold to Meatball Munson."

A wave of nausea rolled over me, my stomach twisting into knots at the familiar name. The last time I saw Meatball, he'd been stuffing a skinny freshman into a locker, his bulbous nose wrinkling with glee. Now, in this nightmare turned reality, he held a slip of parchment in his meaty paw which bore only two words - Alexis Sandwich.

My blood ran cold. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt real fear. Not the kind that makes you jump when watching Paranormal Activity and certainly not the kind that follows when you realize you've forgotten to do your math homework. No, this was visceral, primal fear. The kind that claws at your gut and strangles your heart with icy tendrils.

"Alexis Sandwich," Meatball mused, his thick brows pulled together in a lecherous smirk. "Sounds mighty tasty, don't ya think?"

His laughter was like the gurgle of a blocked drain, and it echoed off the cold stone walls. The chains that held my hands above my head rattled in harmony with my shivering body. My stomach churned as the metallic tang of fear poisoned my tongue.

I closed my eyes tight, willing myself to wake up, to escape his glare that felt as if he were skinning me alive with his eyes. But when I opened them again, I was still there, in the cage, with Meatball's beady gaze locked onto me. His pudgy fingers traced the bars, making them sing a low, mournful song of captivity. Suddenly, he shot me a wicked grin. "Can't wait to take ya home," he boomed, spittle flying from his lips

The nightmare had been vivid, terrifyingly so. It began with me standing in the center of a dimly lit warehouse, chains binding my wrists. The space around me was vast, filled with the murmurs of a crowd concealed in shadows. Their eyes glowed like embers in the dark, watching me hungrily. Two betas from patrol stood by a makeshift stage, their voices hushed but carrying snippets of conversation about omegas being sold at an auction in Texas.

I'd spent half the night scouring Reddit message boards after overhearing them talk, diving into a rabbit hole of stories about omegas taken by rogues and sold to the highest bidder. The details became fuel for my subconscious, transforming into this grotesque tapestry as I slept.

In the dream, bidders raised their hands casually, as if they were at some perverse farmers' market instead of buying people. The faces of these creatures twisted into caricatures of wolves—cartoonish yet terrifying—with exaggerated fangs and saliva dripping from their maws.

My parents burst into my room, and instinctively I recoiled from them before realizing they were not part of the nightmare. Dad held a baseball bat raised high while Mom clutched a pair of nunchaku—a gift from her sensei years ago—both weapons drawn and ready to confront whatever had torn such screams from their daughter's lips.

"Seo-yun, it's okay! We're here!" Mom shouted over my cries as she rushed to cradle me in her arms.

Dad's eyes scanned every corner of the room before settling on me with concern etched deep into his features. "We're going to increase patrols," he promised firmly.

I clung to Mom's embrace as sanity slowly returned, though my pulse still raced from fear's lingering grip. "How can you increase them more than you already have?" I managed to ask between shaky breaths.

Mom's hold tightened reassuringly. "We'll find a way," she murmured against my hair. "I will never let anything happen to you."

Dad added in a softer tone than usual, "Jenny's been rescued by Kai and his team. She's going to be okay." His voice held relief but also an underlying tension as he continued, "The rogues who took her have been captured and punished."

A sense of relief washed over me for Jenny's sake but did little to quell my own terror. After some time passed with them at my side—Dad recounting how Kai had led the charge into rogue territory—I feigned sleep so they would leave and return to their own bed for some much-needed rest.

They hesitated at first; Mom brushed strands of hair away from my face while Dad watched over us both with hawk-like vigilance. Eventually convinced by my steady breathing, they left quietly, weapons still in hand.

Alone again, I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling before turning my gaze toward the window where moonlight filtered through gossamer curtains. That familiar sensation of being watched crept over me once more—but it was different now. Where before there had been fear, now there was a semblance of security.

It was odd; despite everything that had happened tonight—rogues on our doorstep and nightmares that felt all too real—I couldn't muster fear for this silent guardian whose eyes I could feel upon me even now.

And so I lay there in the darkness that wrapped around me like a cocoon—not sleeping but resting in this strange vigilance—knowing deep down that whoever watched over me from beyond that pane of glass wanted nothing more than to keep me safe.

***

The days trudged on, each one cloaked in a tense calm that did little to soothe the nerves of our small town. We were like gazelles grazing with heads high, ears twitching for the slightest rustle in the grass. The rogue threat loomed over Cedar Creek, an ever-present shadow that had everyone on edge. Yet, as the hours stretched into days without incident, a collective breath seemed to ease out of the community.

My own breaths came out in short, frustrated huffs. The walls of my room seemed to inch closer each day, my world shrinking as Mom and Dad amped up their protective hover. I felt like a caged bird, wings clipped just when I needed to fly.

A ray of hope broke through the monotony when Jamie burst into my room, Adam's text lighting up her phone with promise.

"Adam's frat is throwing a bash tonight," she said, excitement making her eyes dance. "He's invited us."

Annie bounced on the balls of her feet beside her. "We have to go! It'll be epic!"

I arched an eyebrow at them both. "You think Mom and Dad will let me step foot outside after sunset with rogues lurking around every corner?"

"That's where Sonia comes in," Jamie chimed in, waving her phone like it held a magic spell.

Adam had wrangled his girlfriend Sonia into the mix. Sonia wasn't just any college student—she was part of Kai's security staff. Her presence was like a talisman against parental anxiety.

"Plus," Jamie continued, "Sonia has been training with your mom forever. If anyone can keep us safe at a college party, it's her."

It was true. Sonia Morton was as formidable as they came—no rogue would dare cross her path.

Annie nudged me with her elbow. "And let's not forget you're basically a ninja."

I smirked at that. "True. But remember the last time I tried to use my taekwondo skills at school? Caitlin and her cronies still think I have anger issues."

"We won't let it come to that," Jamie reassured me.

With trepidation nipping at my heels, I followed them downstairs where Mom and Dad were going over security protocols with their team.

"Dad," I began, mustering all the nonchalance I could fake, "Jamie and Annie want to go to a party tonight."

Mom's head snapped up, eyes narrowing as if she'd heard 'party' and 'frontline' in the same sentence.

"A party?" Dad echoed, skepticism written all over his face.

"Adam invited us," Jamie piped up quickly. "Sonia will be there too."

"Sonia?" Dad repeated, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Sonia Morton," Mom clarified for him. She was already reaching for her phone—probably to confirm this information for herself.

While they debated, Annie leaned closer to me. "This is our chance for a normal night out."

Normal seemed like a distant memory these days.

Finally, Dad sighed—a sound that held equal parts resignation and concern—and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny canister of pepper spray and handed it to me.

"Just in case," he said softly.

I nodded solemnly but couldn't suppress the grin tugging at my lips. Freedom was within reach.

Upstairs, we prepped for our night of escape. The buzz of anticipation was palpable as we rifled through our wardrobes for something party-worthy.

Jamie emerged from my closet holding up a shimmery top. "This one screams 'I'm here to party but I can also take you down with a roundhouse kick.'"

I laughed, slipping into the top and a pair of jeans that hugged my curves in all the right ways. Annie worked magic with some mascara and lip gloss until I hardly recognized myself in the mirror—less warrior-in-training and more college-bound glam girl ready for fun.

The ride over to Adam's frat house was filled with songs from our shared playlist blaring through Jamie's car speakers—the perfect pre-party hype soundtrack.

We arrived at the house pulsing with music and chatter—the kind of energy you could taste on your tongue like electricity. Adam greeted us at the door with wide grins and quick hugs before he spotted Sonia by the makeshift bar inside and nodded toward her.

"Your chaperone awaits," he joked before melting back into the crowd in search of his own fun.

Sonia caught sight of us and raised her glass in salute before making her way over—a silent promise that she had our backs tonight.

As we mingled through clusters of partygoers, heads turned our way—mostly toward me—and I felt something unfamiliar unfurl inside me: confidence? Maybe even vanity?

"You're getting some serious looks," Annie whispered with a sly grin as we passed a group of college guys whose eyes lingered longer than necessary on me.

"It's nice...being noticed." The words felt foreign on my tongue but no less true.

Tonight wasn't about rogues or pack politics; it was about shedding our worries along with our inhibitions—just for a little while—and embracing this slice of ordinary life that had become such a rare commodity for us all.