The Alpha's Hidden Mate

Training Day

*Ember*

Hues of pink and orange dissipate along the horizon as we make a line outside. I’m sticking as close to Luka as possible for now–until we likely get separated. The trainers all look intimidating. All of them are well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and cocky smiles. Only one of them looks even remotely approachable. The rest look like spares who desperately wanted to be Alphas but ended up training them instead.

A man in a suit who looks completely out of place steps up in front of all of them. He’s older, probably my father’s age, and his dark hair is thinning around his hairline. Something tells me he used to be in just as good a shape as the others before he got what appears to be a cushy desk job.

“Welcome, welcome, future Alphas,” he begins, clasping his hands together in front of him. “On behalf of the entire staff of Alpha Academy, I’d like to thank you for your attendance. We all know how difficult becoming an Alpha can be. Today starts the first day in your two-year training program, and I’m delighted to see each and every one of you.”

I glance over at Luka and am not surprised to see a smirk on his face. He’s not buying this bullshit either.

“I’m Roy Nightfall, the President of Alpha Academy, brother to the Alpha of Nightfall Pack, and on behalf of the staff here,” he says, gesturing to the group of eight trainers standing behind him, “I’d like to say we wish you nothing but success on this journey. May you leave here fully prepared to lead your packs in all circumstances–through peace and war.”

For some reason, when he says that last word, his head swivels, and I think, for a moment, he’s looking at Kyan. I follow his gaze and see my roommate staring back at him stoically, unblinking.

Nightfall looks away and continues. “Now, let me introduce you to your trainers.”

He goes down the row, telling us the names of all the trainers and the packs they’re from. All I hear is, “Douchebag from Such-and-Such pack,” on repeat, until he gets to the second-to-last trainer.

“Trainer Jeffrey from Black Night Pack.” There’s a smattering of polite clapping as Douchebag number five steps forward and waves.

I manage to force my hands together, but now that I look at him closely, I definitely see the resemblance.

That’s Gavin’s f*****g brother!

“You okay, Em?” Luka whispers, not daring to bend down close to my ear.

“Fine,” I croak out, but it’s a lie, and Luka can probably tell it. “Just… an interesting relationship between my pack and Black Night.”

“Oh, right.” He nods, like he has some knowledge of the situation, but I can’t ask him what he knows right now because Nightfall is introducing the last trainer, the only one who looks remotely nice.

So, of course, his voice suddenly turns condescending. “And… Trainer Brett of Mountainside Pack.”

I clap along with everyone else and silently beg the Goddess to put me in Brett’s group. Anyone but Jeffrey will do, quite frankly. I do realize that today’s groupings will be arbitrary until it’s established which performance groups we belong in, but if I can just get someone who will cut me some slack today–and not recognize me–I’ll be able to survive one more day.

“When I call your name, come form a line behind me,” Douchebag number one says in a voice that indicates he desperately wishes he’d been born the eldest son. He shouts out ten or twelve names, and those students make their way over toward him, forming a line. The only person I know in that group is Brock, and he looks petrified.

Douchebag number two shouts out names, and more students leave our ranks and head that way. I’m a bit disappointed to see Jaxson, the guy who helped me out at registration, is in that line. That means we won’t be in the same group.

The next three trainers shout out their names. Malcolm is in the third group–thank the Goddess. Unfortunately, Luka is in the next one, and Mikey is in that one, too. The last name the fifth trainer shouts is, “Kyan Stone,” and I feel a shuddering breath leave my lungs. At least I’m not in his group.

The next trainer to call his group is Gavin’s brother, Jeffrey. I hold my breath the entire time. Goddess, if I’m in his group, he’ll know I’m from Fire Pack. He’ll know his pack is desperately trying to form a tight alliance with us–with his brother marrying my cousin.

Or… me as the case may be.

Jeffrey calls half of the remaining names, and I’m not with him. One of the guys I saw Kyan talking to is, and he looks irritated. Maybe everyone knows Jeffrey is an ass.

The last trainer, the one who actually looks like he’s tolerable, calls out his names. I am the last one to be called. “Emory Fireraker?”

When I step forward, the trainer’s eyes brighten, and he claps me on the shoulder. In fairness, the same thing happened for the first eleven guys as well. Still, it’s nice to feel welcomed. I look at the faces of the other guys in my group and am relieved to see one I recognize–Gary from the elevator. I smile at him, and he smiles back, but he looks a bit petrified.

Thankfully, none of Malcolm’s cronies are in my group either.

“All right!” Trainer Brett claps his hands together. “I’m so excited to have you all in my group today. Now, I know this can all be a bit intimidating, but don’t let it worry you. Throughout your time at Academy, you’ll switch groups several times. Some of you will get stronger. Others may not make as much progress as others and slip back a bit, but the good news is that all of us can improve on our physical skills. Some of you aren’t even through growing yet.” For some reason, I feel like he’s looking at me, though not in an unpleasant way. “Now, we are going to be on field number eight, which is that way. Let’s move out.” He picks up an equipment back and tosses it over his shoulder, and we all start walking behind him.

As we pass the other groups, I can’t help but look to see what they’re doing. I accidentally catch Kyan’s eye. I turn around as fast as I can, but as I walk away, it feels like his eyes are lingering on me.

But why?