The healer and the broken alpha

Diera reached over to silence her alarm and felt a bucket of ice water dump over her head instead, soaking her and the bed. Laughter erupted as Keal and Kegan high-fived each other. "Come on sis. We got your shower covered — time to get ready for college," Keal smirked. Diera was nineteen, and today was her first day at Northern College, where every pack wolf attended. She peeled off the soaked comforter and shuffled to the washroom, shivering. In the mirror her dark hair hung wet against her face, her hazel eyes sunken with exhaustion no amount of sleep ever fixed. She showered, dressed, and had an hour left before orientation. Keal and Kegan were both studying science; Dean had chosen business to prepare for taking over as Alpha. Diera was set on Ecology. Downstairs, Alpha Neal and Kate were eating breakfast. Diera grabbed an apple. "Honey, you need more than an apple. I made breakfast — have some," Kate said. Under Neal's glance, she took a piece of toast instead. "The boys are waiting outside. Dean's giving you a ride," Neal said, rising from the table. Diera thanked Kate and stepped outside to find Kegan riding shotgun, Keal in the back, and Dean behind the wheel of his Jeep. "Sorry, sis, no more room. Maybe next time," Kegan said, and Dean smirked while Keal laughed outright. Diera nodded and stepped back — this happened every time. Dean had never once given her a ride. She grabbed her bicycle from the garage and pedaled to school alone, starting another day in her strange, exhausting life. By the time she arrived, the lecture hall was nearly full, a human professor fumbling with the podium mic. Diera had learned in high school that sitting close to the teacher meant fewer chances for "accidents." She found a seat five rows up — until the girls behind her slid their bags across it. "Only wolves sit here. You're definitely not one," one of them said. Diera moved to the only open seat left — front row, right in front of the professor. Twenty minutes into the lecture, sleep tugged at her, so she doodled in her notebook to stay awake, sketching the professor's portrait. When she finished, the boy beside her leaned over. "You seem pretty dedicated to drawing your professors," he said, brown eyes warm. She pulled the notebook to her chest and offered a small smile as the lecture ended. "Hey, I didn't catch your name — I'm Noah," he said, catching her elbow. "Diera. And you probably shouldn't be seen talking to me, unless you want the whole pack to hate you." "I've noticed how they treat you. I'm not one to follow the crowd," he said, smiling again. "Want to be friends?" "Sure. Don't say I didn't warn you." As they walked to her next class, pack mates shot her nasty looks, laughing at jokes at her expense. Worse, the pack link let her hear their thoughts loud and clear — mockery about the "pathetic duo," speculation about why the Alpha even kept her around, promises that Dean would get rid of her once he took over. She'd learned to tune it out over the years. Noah, oblivious to the stares, stayed by her side until they split for separate classes. By her last lecture she was too tired to notice a wolf's foot stick out and trip her. She went down hard, books and papers scattering down the stairs, pain exploding through her nose as it broke. The boy responsible high-fived his friends while she lay there; more students walked over her scattered belongings as silent tears slid down her face. "Diera!" Noah's voice cut through. "Oh God — your nose is bleeding!" He gathered her things and walked her to a bench outside, offering a tissue she waved off. "It's broken." "We need to get you to the pack doctor!" She stayed seated, cupping her nose, concentrating on how it had looked before. Warmth spread from her hands, and Noah gasped as the break knit itself back together. "You're a healer?" he whispered. She nodded. Healers were rare, though the White Thorn pack was known for producing gifted wolves, so her ability hadn't shocked anyone. "Then why do they treat you like this? Shouldn't they respect you?" Noah asked, taking her hands. "I don't have a wolf. I was never trained to fight or protect myself. I'm a liability," she said quietly. He had no response. She stood. "I'm heading home. Goodbye, Noah." She unlocked her bike and rode off, and was almost to the pack house when she heard wolves moving through the trees — Dean and Ryan his best friend , tracking her. Even without a wolf of her own, she still carried a werewolf's enhanced senses and speed; what she lacked was training, surrounded as she was by a pack full of bullies — bullies who happened to be her own family. Dean and Ryan stepped into the gravel road ahead, smirking, then sidestepped to let her pass. The moment she pedaled forward, Ryan yanked her bag and dragged her off the bike. She hit the ground hard, and when she tried to rise, he stomped on her hand, cracking bone. She bit back the cry. "How was your first day, sis?" Dean crouched beside her. "Hope nobody hurt you — I'd have to thank them." Ryan laughed, grinding his foot deeper. "First years go through initiation," Dean said, releasing her hand. He and Ryan exchanged a look and began counting down from five. At one, their feet slammed into her ribs, pain radiating through her body. Dean gripped her chin. "Once I'm Alpha, I'll kick you out myself, you worthless orphan." They shifted and ran. *Don't come back until you're healed,* Dean's voice echoed in her mind. She nodded, alone on the gravel road, knowing the healing would take hours and rest she wouldn't get. It was moments like this she wished she'd died alongside her parents.