Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
I head for the back row, and everything’s normal. Female voices echo off the low ceilings. Metal locker doors slam. I peel off my shirt and hesitate for just a second. The cool air is amazing against my clammy skin.
“Now,” a female snaps.
They’re on me before I can scent them. They grab my legs and yank my arms behind my back. I can’t kick. I can only wrench my shoulder sockets. I buck, but there are too many of them. Brynn, Teagan, at least four others. They rip off my shorts with my panties, ducking my flailing legs and laughing.
I squeeze my thighs together, and they grab me again, more hands than necessary, all pinching, squeezing, smacking.
They shout. Hoot.
My hair’s come loose. Strands are stuck in my mouth, and I can’t get them out because my arms are pinned. I spit and try to cry for help, but my throat’s seized up, and their howls drown out my rasping, “Nia. Nia.”
Gracie Beddoe and Mina Scurlock huddle against the lockers, turning their faces away. They can’t help.
My wolf lumbers to her feet and blinks at me.
I eat them.
She cracks her massive jaw.
Her lack of concern is a touchstone inside me, clearing an eye in the whirlwind panic and humiliation.
If I let her out, she’ll do it. I don’t think I could stop her. She doesn’t seem cognizant of their rank in the slightest, and she seems totally fine with the idea of eating packmates. She’s salivating.
How can she be so freaking matter-of-fact? Is she joking?
Even if she decided to just scare them off, if I unleash Godzilla in here, the ceiling’s busted for sure, and the females holding me are they’re done for, crushed against the lockers.
Their fingers dig into my skin, and even though I’m not struggling much anymore, they jerk me this way and that, knocking me against the blue painted metal bench, pinching my sides and underarms.
They deserve to be stomped.
Yes. I eat them.
My wolf snaps her fangs and readies herself. I draw in a deep breath.
And I catch sight of Gracie and Mina, huddled against the lockers as if that’d protect them from the snarling, baying pack of females who’ve dropped all pretense of being human. They tremble and reek of fear, but Mina’s eyes keep darting to the end of the aisle, gauging the distance. She’s going to make a run for help. For Nia, probably.
And then the pack will turn on Mina, and if Nia comes, her too.
I have to think, but I’m burning up, and everyone can see the bush between my legs, and their cackles snag down my skin. They slap my thighs and belly, cackling when I jiggle.
I hate them.
Iwant my wolf to eat them. I want to grind their bones to dust between my teeth.
Yes.
My wolf surges forward, her growl rattling the lockers, and at the very last second before she bursts free, my mind screams no.
Nia. My heels dig in, and I throw the weight of everything I am backwards, a mess of fur and fear and shame and homicidal glee.
My wolf twists her head and considers me over her shoulder.
No.
They’ll hurt Nia if we shift.
They always make us suffer for each other’s sins.
I eat them all. No problems.
No.
My wolf snorts, her black nostrils quivering, and with the dignity of a queen, she plops herself down to watch.
I go limp. The females shove me down on my knees. The tile is sticky and so cool it feels wet.
Brynn strolls until she’s standing above me. Her claws snick from her manicured fingertips.
“Not much fight in you, is there, bog rat?” She scrapes a claw from my neck down the cleft between my boobs, hard enough to leave a dotted line of blood droplets.
My wolf growls.
One bite. Bitch is gone.
I don’t doubt her. I hold her reins tighter even though she seems content now to observe.
Brynn’s claw skims the lace of my bra, snipping threads, and then with a quick yank, she cuts the piece of fabric with a tiny white rosette that holds the thing together. The cups fall apart. My swollen, rosy breasts swing free.
My wolf growls low in her throat.
Can I now?
I white knuckle her reins. I made my decision. Now I live through this. For my people, I can be strong.
“Damn.” Brynn whistles. “I guess we can see what the alpha heir sees in you.” She slaps the underside of my boob to make it sway.
I stare at the grout between the tiles, and I think about outside. A bonfire in the dark. The stillness before dawn when the trees are black against the purple sunrise. Slimy brown polliwogs darting in and out of shadows in the stream’s shallows. Fat blackberries nestled in clumps of green.
Everything beautiful and right and not here and not now.
It works. Somehow. Even though my body is mortified, and the thinking part of my brain is frantic and reeling, a certain calmness steals over me.
Suddenly, at Brynn’s command, the females are moving, dragging me down the aisle, even though I’m not fighting. Mina gasps, and Gracie shoves her fist in her mouth.
It happens so fast. Teagan pushes the bar on the emergency exit door that opens to the paved lot behind the gymnasium—the lot with the outdoor basketball court—and they throw me out. I hit the asphalt with my knees.
I scramble, but the door’s already shut, so I huddle, fold into myself, tuck as tight and small as I can.
Before I duck my head, I see five males clustered a few feet away—Mr. Arnold, Vaughn Lewis, Art Floyd, Seth Rosser, and Cadoc Collins.
A male whistles.
“Sweet. Scavenger tits,” Art Floyd snickers, and there’s a thud and a yelp.
I tuck my butt as low as I can, huddling into a tighter ball, chin tucked to my chest, sharp pebbles digging into my shins. I’m still wearing my white sandals, but the strap of one is broken, and it’s falling off.
How do I get out of this?
If I were Nia, I’d stand tall and proud and saunter off, swishing my ass with my middle finger in the air, but I’m Rosie Kemble, and yeah, I guess there’s not much fight in me. I’ve run out.
My head’s down, so I don’t see what happens. There’s a crack and a scream that’s cut off mid-way. Then there’s a big thump.
Seth says, “I’ve got him.”
“Vaughn? You have something to say?” Cadoc’s voice is cold and even.
“No, Alpha Heir.”
Mr. Arnold clears his throat. “Mr. Collins, you’ve got this, uh, covered?”
Cadoc grunts, and then three sets of footsteps head toward the door leading back into the gymnasium. Someone is dragging something large.
It’s quiet for a moment. Distant shouts are carried on the wind. The pups are outside at recess across campus at the primary school.