The Alphas' Impossible Mate

Riley

The first thing I register is the laughter. It’s sharp and condescending, echoing off the rows of dull gray lockers that line the hallway. The second thing is the sharp pain radiating from my tailbone. My books are scattered across the linoleum floor, a tragic paper explosion marking my official welcome to Silvermoon Creek High.

“Looks like we’ve got a stray,” a voice says, smooth and deep like aged whiskey.

I look up. And up. Two figures block the fluorescent lights, casting me in shadow. They are identical. Same jet black hair that falls perfectly over their foreheads, same sharp jawlines, same broad shoulders that strain the fabric of their simple gray t-shirts. But their eyes are different. The one on the right has eyes the color of a summer sky, amused and mocking. The one on the left has eyes like storm clouds, intense and angry.

“She smells new,” Storm Cloud says, his voice a low growl. His gaze sweeps over me, dismissive and cold. He makes no move to help.

“She smells like… vanilla and something else,” Summer Sky muses, a smirk playing on his lips. He crouches down, not to help, but to get a better look at me, like I’m a curious bug he found on the pavement. “Like trouble.”

My cheeks burn with humiliation. This is exactly what my mom promised wouldn’t happen. ‘A fresh start, Riley,’ she’d said, her voice bright with a hope I couldn’t feel. ‘No one knows us there. We can just be normal.’ Normal. I haven’t felt normal since Dad died, since our old life was ripped away and we were forced to run to this speck on the map, my mom’s forgotten hometown.

“Are you going to help me or just stare?” I snap, my voice coming out shakier than I want. I start gathering my books, my hands fumbling with the slick covers.

Storm Cloud scoffs. “Why would we help you? You’re the one who can’t walk straight.”

“Jonah, be nice,” a sickly sweet voice chides. A girl steps into my line of sight, placing a perfectly manicured hand on Jonah’s arm. She’s beautiful in a way that seems almost weaponized. Flowing blonde hair, a cheerleader’s perfect figure, and eyes that assess and dismiss me in a single glance. “The poor thing is probably just overwhelmed. Our little town can be a lot for outsiders.”

She smiles down at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She is a predator circling. Her gaze flicks between the two brothers, a clear and possessive warning in the gesture.

“Thanks, Bianca, but I can handle it,” I say, pushing myself up to my feet. I stand a full head shorter than the twins, but I force myself to meet their stares. First Jonah’s, the angry one. A jolt, like touching a live wire, sparks through me. It’s unpleasant but electrifying. Then I meet the eyes of the other one. The one Bianca isn’t touching.

His blue eyes are less hostile, more curious. As our gazes lock, a strange warmth spreads through my chest, unexpected and deeply confusing. It feels like stepping into a patch of sunlight on a cold day. For a second, his smirk falters.

“Well, look at that,” he says softly, his voice losing some of its mocking edge. “She has claws.”

“Don’t encourage her, Caleb,” Bianca says, her voice tight. She steps between us, a deliberate block. “She’s not worth the attention.”

Caleb. Jonah. The names click into place. The golden boys. The future Alphas. My mom had given me a hurried, whispered warning this morning. ‘Stay away from the Blackwood family, Riley. Especially the twins. They run this town.’ Looks like I’ve failed spectacularly within the first ten minutes.

“I’m not trying to get anyone’s attention,” I say, clutching my books to my chest like a shield. “I’m just trying to get to class.”

“Class can wait,” Jonah says, taking a step forward. The crowd that had been shuffling past us has now formed a silent circle, watching the show. He moves with a predatory grace that makes the hairs on my arms stand up. “You’re in our way.”

“This is a public hallway,” I counter, my heart starting to pound a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Dad’s voice echoes in my head. Never let them see you bleed, Ellie-Bell. Never let them know they got to you.

“Everything in this town is ours,” Jonah growls, his voice dropping so low it’s almost a vibration. He’s close now. So close I can smell him. It’s an intoxicating mix of pine needles after a rainstorm and something wild and musky that makes my head spin. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. It’s… wonderful. My body’s reaction is a betrayal.

“Jonah,” Caleb says, a note of warning in his tone. He hasn’t moved, but his blue eyes are locked on his brother.

Jonah ignores him. He plants a hand on the locker next to my head, trapping me. The metallic clang echoes in the sudden silence. “We haven’t seen you around here before. Where did you crawl out from?”

“A city,” I say, my voice clipped. “You’ve probably never heard of it. It has more than one traffic light.”

A ripple of nervous laughter goes through the watching students. Jonah’s storm cloud eyes darken. His jaw clenches.

“You have a mouth on you,” he says, leaning in closer. His breath ghosts across my cheek. “I don’t like it.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” I shoot back, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them. Fear is a cold knot in my stomach, but anger is a fire spreading through my veins. They think they can intimidate me, treat me like dirt on their shoe. I’ve faced worse things than a high school bully with an ego problem.

Bianca lets out a scandalized gasp. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Does it matter?” I ask, not taking my eyes off Jonah.

“It should,” Caleb says, his voice now devoid of its earlier amusement. He takes a step forward, flanking my other side. Now I’m truly caged, a wall of arrogant, handsome muscle on either side of me. His scent is different from his brother’s. Just as strong, but it’s ozone and sunlight, the smell of the air after a summer storm. The confusing warmth from before intensifies, a comforting hum beneath the terror. How can one person make me feel both things at once?

“We decide who belongs in Silvermoon Creek,” Caleb continues, his voice calm and dangerously quiet. “And who doesn’t.”

“And you’ve decided I don’t belong?” I ask, my voice surprisingly steady. “All that in the five minutes since you tripped me in the hallway? You must be incredibly perceptive.”

Caleb’s blue eyes widen slightly. Jonah actually takes a half step back, his expression shifting from anger to genuine surprise. They weren’t expecting this. They were expecting me to cry, to apologize, to shrink. My defiance has thrown them completely off balance.

It’s a small victory, but it tastes sweet. I see the flicker of something new in their eyes. It’s not just arrogance or anger anymore. It’s interest. A flicker of respect, maybe. Or maybe just the surprise of a predator whose prey has just bared its teeth.

“I didn’t trip you,” Caleb says, and he sounds almost… sincere. “He did.” He jerks his head toward Jonah.

Jonah just smirks, a flash of white teeth in the dim hallway. “Prove it.”

“Enough,” Bianca snaps, clearly furious that the attention is no longer on her. She grabs Caleb’s arm, her red nails digging into his bicep. “Let’s go. She’s a nobody. Let her get lost on her way to whatever loser class she has.”

Caleb doesn’t move. His gaze is still locked with mine. That warmth is still there, a confusing pull that makes me want to lean into it even as every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to run. My wolf, a part of me I barely understand, that my mom has told me to suppress at all costs, feels… intrigued. It’s a dangerous feeling.

The late bell shrieks, a piercing sound that finally breaks the tension. The circle of students scatters, not wanting to be caught.

Jonah pushes off the locker, but he doesn’t leave. He just watches me, his expression unreadable now. Caleb gently removes Bianca’s hand from his arm.

“What’s your name?” Caleb asks, his voice low, meant only for me.

I hesitate for a beat too long. Giving them my name feels like giving them a piece of myself, a weapon they could use against me.

“Riley,” I finally say, lifting my chin. “Riley Anders.”

A strange look passes between the brothers. A silent communication that I am not privy to. They share a glance that is over in a fraction of a second, but it’s charged with something I can’t name.

“Riley,” Caleb repeats, testing the sound of it. A slow smile spreads across his face, and this time, it reaches his eyes. It transforms his entire face, making him devastatingly handsome. “Welcome to Silvermoon Creek.”

He says it like a promise and a threat all at once. Then, he turns, and with one last unreadable look from Jonah and a venomous glare from Bianca, they walk away, the crowd parting for them like the Red Sea.

I’m left alone in the now empty hallway, my back pressed against the cold metal of the lockers. My legs feel like jelly. My breath is coming in ragged gasps. I can still feel the ghost of their presence, still smell the intoxicating scent of pine and sunlight.

My mom was wrong. This isn’t a fresh start.

It’s a hunting ground. And I just painted a target on my back.