THE RISE OF A WORTHLESS OMEGA: Rescued By Three Alphas

CHAPTER 3 — THE ALPHAS

Caius POV

"Something is definitely wrong with this territory."

I don't look up from the documents. "Define wrong."

Ryker stands at the window with his arms crossed, eyes on the academy grounds below. He has been standing there for twenty minutes. "My wolf hasn't settled since we arrived."

"Mine either," Zane says from the couch. He is spinning a pen between his fingers, the way he does when he is thinking about something he hasn't said yet. "I thought it was the new environment… you know, the unfamiliar pack energy."

"It's not the environment."

Now I look up.

Ryker turns from the window. His jaw set in the way it gets when he already knows something and is waiting for the rest of us to catch up.

"No," I say slowly. "It's not. Because I felt it too."

The three of us sit with that for a moment. Outside, students move between buildings in clusters, loud with excitement. We always have that effect on people so it doesn't move us a little bit. But that's not why we are here.

We are here to investigate Dravenmoor. To look into its alpha Dorian Dravenmor. The pack energy here is mid-tier at best. Nothing wild enough to rattle us like this.

But this — whatever this is — is extraordinary.

I chose to ignore it, because ignoring it is our safest option.

"We are here for one reason," I say, clearing my voice to draw their attention. "Dravenmoor's compliance records are a disaster. His pack governance is built on violations. We must document everything if we want to present our findings to the council. Then leave." I look between them. "Whatever our wolves are reacting to is just a distraction."

"Agreed," Zane says.

Ryker says nothing. He just turns back to the window and I take that as agreement.

***

After class break, Nova Dravenmoor shows up walking in a seductive manner. Her heels click the floor in a deliberate rhythm.

Zane scoffs.

She must really have some nerve to be walking towards us with such confidence.

She rounds the corridor with a smile already in place, looking all blonde and polished with two girls trailing her like a decorative proof of her importance.

"I was hoping I would run into you." Her eyes find mine first. I hold her gaze in a straightforward manner. The greedy ones always come to me first.

"How are you settling in? Do you need anything? If there's anything the Dravenmoor estate can offer—"

"We're settled," I cut her off mid speech.

I can see her shiver, just from the weight of my words, but she does not back down. She doesn't know when to.

"I just want your stay to reflect well on us. My father takes hosting seriously and so do I." She tilts her head and flips her hair backwards. "I know the records room your team requested. I can guide you there if you don't mind."

I am getting impatient. I don't have the time to chit chat with irrelevant people or give in to distractions. "We have a guide."

"I'm better." She says with boldness. Like she would be able to convince us to let her if she tries hard enough. Beside me, I feel Zane shift. He is getting impatient as well.

"We appreciate it," Zane says pleasantly. "We'll manage."

Her smile stays, but she pauses. Raising her head up high as she thinks of a better way to approach the situation.

Ryker starts walking. Not giving her any chance for one more word. Zane and I follow.

Behind us, she grumbles—a classic sign of frustration—and runs forward to catch up with our long steps.

"Remember the dinner.” She says sharply and out of breath. “My father is hosting, and I don't want you to forget—"

"We've seen the schedule," I say, still moving.

“If you need company you know where to find me,” she shouts after us.

“Oh please, shut the f**k up.” Zane snaps. I smile. He never runs out of patience so quickly.

Finally, she shuts up, turning all red.

She looks between the three of us. Searching for even one flicker of interest, one opportunity that she can use to come into our lives and occupy like she has done to every room she enters. But there is none.

"The offer stands," she says finally. Then lifts her chin and walks away with the same grace she came with. The two girls scurry after her.

Zane watches her go. "We embarrassed her.” He says, amused. “I'm not sure she'll handle that well"

"I don't care," comes my reply.

He laughs. "I betcha she'll be back."

"Can we just talk about something else?"

I follow Ryker's line of sight and see what he's focused on. Or rather who.

There she is again. Not Nova. Her sister.

***

She's at the far end of the corridor walking to her locker like one wrong move can cost her something heavy. Trying so hard to be invisible.

Her head is down, bag pulled close and sleeves long despite the warmth of the building. My sharp vision immediately goes to the cut on her head.

I'm not supposed to care this much, but how won't I when my wolf completely loses control of everything once he sees her.

‘respect yourself.’ I warn him, but he doesn't listen. This is the first time he is not listening and it's because of her.

"There she is," Zane says quietly, interrupting me from my thoughts.

"The Dravenmoor's daughter," I say.

"Stepdaughter." Ryker's voice comes out lower than usual. He corrects me with his eyes still glued to her. "She's the one from the first wife."

I glance at him. "You've been paying attention."

"She lives in the house we're investigating."

That is true, but we also know that's not the whole reason why he's interested in her.

She pulls a book from the locker and holds it against her chest then closes the door. She looks around once and starts hurrying to class before anyone can really meet her or catch up with her.

"She is a nobody," Zane says in a matter of fact tone.

"She has no rank, no pack role and barely a social presence." He pauses. "So why does she have that effect on us?"

I wonder why too. Why something pulls her to her so strongly that we can resist, no matter how hard we try to. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't.

"There is something wrong in that house," Ryker says.

"We know there's something wrong in that house," I reply. "That's why we're here."

"You are wrong. It's not just the records." He finally turns away from her to me. "It's her.”

He lets the word settle between us. The tension hanging in the air.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“It's the way she moves. The long sleeves. The way she angles her body toward exits when voices begin to rise in a room. The cut of her head." He pauses for a beat. "They're hurting her." He squeezes his fist subconsciously, till the ruler in his hands breaks.

His words land with weight. “They're hurting her.”

I should not care, but I begin to think about it. How long has this been going on? How deep did the abuse go?

It disturbs me that I'm thinking about it—about her.

Zane is also quiet. The casual amusement that lives on his face permanently has turned to something else. He is watching her with the same sharpened focus now. Perhaps, thinking what I'm thinking.

"Is it still happening?" he asks.

"Yes," Ryker says.

She reaches the end of the corridor and turns without looking back. The moment she's gone, something in my chest tugs at me painfully. Consistent. I raise a brow.

"She is the daughter of the man we are investigating," I say in a controlled voice. "If there is abuse happening under his roof, we need to get evidence quickly—"

"Then we must summon him," Zane finishes, looking at me with a serious expression. "And hold him accountable."

"Yes," I reply. "But first, let's find proof."

I pick up my folder and walk forward. Behind me, Ryker takes one last look down the empty corridor then follows.

He doesn't say anything.

He doesn't need to.