The Alpha's Hidden Mate

Registration, Please

*Ember*

The woman behind the counter looks at Emory’s picture on the application my father’s office submitted months ago, then back at me, then at Emory, then at me. Her eyes narrow a bit, and then she purses her mouth together, scrunched up to the side.

Part of me wants to start making excuses–it’s an old photo. I’m not very photogenic. My mom enhanced it with Photoshop. But I keep my mouth shut and give her the most messed-up excuse for a grin I can muster, hoping she realizes that any differences she’s seeing between the photo–where Emory looks murderous because he absolutely did not want to go here–and my current face are all due to expression.

“What is your full name?” she asks, her head tipping slightly to the side.

“Emory James Fireraker,” I say with confidence.

“When is your birthday?”

“April 8, 2007.” That’s easy enough. Of course, I know my cousin’s birthday.

“What is your pack registration number?”

My eyes widen. My pack registration number? Hell, I don’t even know my own pack registration number. “Uhm… honestly,” I begin, “that’s never been something I’ve needed to know since I rarely leave the castle.”

Her eyes narrow into a tight squint. “Really?”

The guy behind me, someone I haven’t met yet, interjects. “No doubt. I have no idea what mine is, either,” he chimes in.

I turn to look at him, finding a tall, broad shoulder fellow with jet black hair and a lopsided grin. I want to thank him, but instead, I nod and keep my stupid grin on my face.

She sighs, shaking her head. “Whatever. I can’t imagine anyone would pretend to be an Alpha’s candidate. It’s not as if the Alpha wouldn’t notice if Emory was still hanging around the castle, and one of the stable boys was here.” She picks up a stamp and slams it onto my paperwork before moving it aside. Then, she hands me a stapled stack of papers. “Your room assignment is here on the front page. Your schedule is attached. Dinner is at five. Do not be late.” Before I can even thank her, she yells, “Next!” as if the guy who just spoke up is twenty-five feet away instead of breathing down my neck.

I catch his eye as I’m walking away, and he’s looking at me slightly suspiciously, but he moves on to the counter, and I make my way to the exit, thankful that no other moron is blocking the door.

I’m hoping to catch up to Luka so we can find our rooms together, but it took the woman behind the counter so long to scrutinize my paperwork that he’s long gone. So I wander the halls, trying to use a map that’s attached to my stack of papers to find my room. It takes me a while to figure out that this building is only for classrooms and the dorms are in a separate building behind us. At least I find the cafeteria, so I’ll know where to go at 5:00. A quick glance at my watch tells me I don’t have that long to get settled in and get there, only about an hour.

At this rate, I might still be looking for my room then.

Pushing through a door in the back of the building, I make my way down a covered walkway to the building I assume has to be the student dorms. To my left, I see a huge house, almost a mansion, situated about two hundred yards away from the campus. Several other buildings dot the area. One of them looks like it might also be a dorm building, and I wonder if the faculty lives there. Others look like garages and storage sheds.

The door to the dorm room is unlocked. I walk inside and find a lobby area with lots of couches and a television. To the right, I see the stairs, and to the left are the elevators. My room number is 266, so I assume that’s on the second floor. Another guy comes in the door behind me, one I don’t think I’ve seen before. He’s only a bit taller than me and looks almost as freaked out.

“Hey,” I say in my gruffest voice.

“Hi.” His voice is almost as high pitched as my natural one. He runs a hand through his sandy blond hair. “What floor you on?”

“Second, I guess.”

“Me, too. I’m Gary.”

“Emory.” I offer him my hand, and we walk over to the elevator. The doors open immediately, and we head in to make the short ride up one floor.

“I’m in two fifty-eight,” he says. “How ‘bout you?”

“Two sixty-six,” I tell him.

He smiles. “Cool. We’ll be close to one another. It’s always nice to see a friendly face.”

I give him my best bro head nod and turn my attention back to the door. He probably thinks we have a lot in common because we’re both relatively small compared to the other guys, but we really don’t since I’m not a guy at all. I’m pretty sure he is, though. I don’t get a chance to ask him what pack he’s from before the door opens.

We trudge out, staring at numbers, and wander down the hallway. Eventually, Gary finds his room. I give him a short wave and move a few doors down the hall.

Here it is. Two sixty-six. I hear someone moving around inside, so I guess my roommate is already here. I read over some of the paperwork while I was wandering aimlessly, so I’m not surprised I’ll be sharing my room with someone. I’m just a tad anxious about what he will be like. With any luck, it’s Luka. Or maybe that guy who helped me out with the registration clerk.

I lift my hand to knock on the door, but then I remember this is my room, too. It seems dumb to knock. So instead, I slowly turn the knob and push it open

The guy standing by the window across the room slowly turns to look at me, and my breath catches in my throat. He’s definitely one of the guys I saw earlier today, but it never in a million years crossed my mind that he might be my roommate.

All I can do is bite my tongue to prevent my thoughts from flying out of my mouth.

Holy f**k.