Chapter 2
1268 Words
TREVOR'S POV
I wake up to the harsh sunlight coming in from the windows. I roll over and the feeling of warm bodies on either side of me reminds me of last night's fun. A grin spreads across my face as I glance at the two girls still laid out on my bed, tangled in the sheets.
"Well, ladies," I mutter, stretching lazily, "that was a night to remember."
One of them groans, shifting but not waking up, while the other mumbles something incoherent. I chuckle to myself, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up.
I know there's no way Dad didn't hear us. The thought makes my grin widen. His uptight rules and constant nagging—Trevor, be better. Trevor, follow your brother's example. Yeah, right. Brandon, the golden child, the almighty Captain of the hockey team. I roll my eyes.
"Time to go, girls," I say, clapping my hands.
The groaning intensifies as they sit up, rubbing their eyes and pulling the covers around them. They mumble protests, but I'm already pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
I walk them downstairs, fully expecting to see Dad waiting in the living room with his arms crossed, ready to lecture me. But the house is silent. Empty.
I stop in the foyer, frowning. "Huh. Guess it's my lucky day."
The girls giggle, probably thinking I'm talking to them. I open the door and watch as they head out, still giggling and whispering to each other. Once they're gone, the house feels too quiet.
My dad is the Alpha of our pack and I can say that being the son of an Alpha is quite....exhausting, especially because I'm next in like for the throne.
I skip my first class without a second thought. College is boring as hell, anyway. My GPA is hanging on by a thread, but it's not like I care. I grab my keys and head out, deciding to find out what Brandon's up to.
Not because I care about him. Hell no. I hate him. Always have, always will. Brandon Jameson, Mr. Perfect. Ever since his girlfriend, Sharon died, he's been walking around like a damn ghost, but somehow, people admire him even more now. It makes me sick. When Sharon died, Brandon gave up being next in line for the Alpha position because he couldn't handle it. Because of that, my dad passed the mantle to me. It hurts me because my dad didn't hide his displeasure when he handed it over to me. He repeatedly begged Brandon to take over but Brandon refused.
It felt like I was the second option, which I technically was anyway. My dad never fails to remind me that he knows I won't be a good Alpha.
I'll show them. I'll show them all.
-
At college, I'm slouched in the cafeteria, half-listening to a group of guys at the next table. They're talking loud enough for the whole room to hear. Their excitement is getting on my nerves.
"Hockey tryouts are coming up," one of them says. "Man, I wish I had half the skill of Brandon Jameson. The dude's a legend."
I grip my cup tightly and the plastic creaks under the pressure.
"Yeah, no kidding. Did you see that last game he played? Unreal. If I could just make the team—"
"—he's gonna make waves again this year. Nobody even comes close."
I slam my cup down on the table. The sound is so loud that they stop talking. They glance at me, startled, but I'm already on my feet, storming out of the cafeteria.
Why does everyone worship him?
It's always been this way. Brandon the star, Brandon the hero, Brandon the perfect son. Meanwhile, I'm the screw-up, the guy no one expects anything from.
But not this time.
I pull out my phone, opening the campus sports schedule. The hockey tryouts are in two weeks. A plan forms in my head.
I'm going to take that spot.
I'm going to steal the crown right off Brandon's perfect head.
-
It's late when I finally drag myself out of the house and head to the rink. I decide to go to the rink to practice. I have to get into the hockey team, even if it's the last thing I do.
I need this. Skating, practicing—it's the only thing that clears my head anymore.
As I round a corner, I hear muffled voices. At first, I ignore it. Probably just some idiots messing around. But then I catch the edge of panic in one of the voices and I realize it's a girl.
I slow down. My eyes narrow as I take in the scene. Two guy are cornering a girl against the wall. Her back is pressed to the bricks and I can tell they want to rob her/
My first instinct is to walk away. This isn't my problem. I don't need to play hero tonight.
But then I think about it. Maybe the adrenaline might be exactly what I need before practice.
"Hey," I say, "Let her go"
One of them sneers. "Who the hell are you?"
I ignore him. Instead, I move to stand in between the girl and the robbers.
"Stand behind me" I tell her.
The girl moves to stand behind me. I can tell her body is trembling. She's scared.
"Walk away" I say "Or you'll regret this"
"That's the Alpha's son" one of the guys says.
"Yeah right" another scoffs "You think the Alpha's son will walk around without security"
I fight the urge to laugh. I don't need security. I've been taught combat by the best warriors since I could learn how to walk. What do I need protection for?
"Step aside or we'll hurt you too" one of the guys says.
The one on the left pulls out a blade.
"Guess we'll have to deal with you first," he growls.
"You guys don't listen, do you?" I mutter.
Then he lunges.
I can just end this with the use of my powers but that'll be too easy. I'm actually in the mood to fight.
I dodge and the knife slices through the air inches from my side. Adrenaline floods my veins, and suddenly, I'm moving without thinking. My wolf helps me in every way, heightening my senses. I grab his wrist, twisting hard, and the knife clatters to the ground.
The other guy rushes me, but I sidestep, driving my elbow into his ribs. He stumbles back, gasping. The first guy comes at me again, but this time I'm ready. I swing a fist into his jaw, and he drops to the floor
The second guy takes one look at his buddy on the ground, then runs away.
"Coward," I mutter, wiping my hands on my jeans.
The girl finally moves, stepping away from the wall.
"Thank you," she says in a trembling tone.
I turn around to face her "Why are you out this time alone?"
She looks at the ground, trembling "I just..I wanted to take a look around"
I let out a sharp laugh, more out of frustration than anything else. "Unbelievable. You're new here, aren't you?"
She nods. Her eyes are wide and still shining with tears.
"Listen," I say "Next time you feel like taking a nighttime stroll, don't. Or at least get some pepper spray. A taser. Something."
She opens her mouth to respond, but I'm already turning away, heading for the rink.
I don't have time for this. I've got my own problems to deal with.
- Writer
