Chapter 3 - The Heat Of The Alpha I

Erica’s POV

I woke up wrecked. Body heavy, head pounding, chest like someone had taken a bat to it. Not just sleep-hangover wrecked. The other kind. The kind where you remember what someone said to you and it guts you all over again.

Elijah’s voice still lived in my skull. That rejection and his taunting. That look in his eyes when he said I wasn’t worth it. I swear it kept playing on repeat, like my brain was torturing me for sport.

I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to get up. I wanted to stay buried under my blanket and vanish. Let the world move on without me.

But no.

Because today had to be the big damn sports competition. Inter-pack event. Elijah’s playground. Elijah’s stage. Everyone drooling and clapping like he was the second coming.

I could already feel my stomach twisting.

And Lena? She was still not speaking to me. Not even a word. Just the tight look on her face like I’d pissed on her carpet. Her cousin humiliates me, but somehow it’s my fault. Figures.

What was I supposed to do? Go up to her and say, hey, sorry your Moon Goddess mated me to your cousin and he gutted me in front of everyone at the party, I’ll try to keep my heartbreak quieter next time?

Yeah, right. That ain't happening.

I wanted to walk past the field to the gym to retrieve my bag that I left there. My blue hoodie pulled over my head, eyes on the ground, hands shoved in my pockets like maybe I could shrink myself down to nothing.

It didn’t work.

Because the crowd exploded. Cheering so loud my bones rattled. And I didn’t even need to look. I knew they were cheering for Elijah.

I told myself not to look. Don’t look. Don’t. But my eyes were traitors. They always are.

And there he was.

Stretched out, sweat already running down his neck, jersey tight across muscles. Teammates clapping his back, voices chanting his name like he owned them. And he did. He owned everything. The field. The air. The crowd.

And me? I found a seat and sat there like a fool. Watching him and hating myself for it.

He moved like he was built for it. Every run, every score, is perfect. People were screaming his name, louder and louder. And my chest ached like it was caving in. Every time his eyes flicked toward the stands, my stupid heart skipped, like maybe, maybe, he was looking at me.

I dug my nails into my palms until it hurt. Little half-moons cut into my skin. Didn’t help. Nothing did.

By the time the whistle blew, I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take one more second of the way everyone worshipped him. Couldn’t take the way I still wanted him even after everything.

So I slipped out.

The hallways were quiet, buzzing lights above me, the roar of the crowd fading behind. I ended up at the gym. My bag was still sitting there, right where I’d left it a day ago when I tried getting into the volleyball team. Long story short, I wasn’t selected. Relief hit me like a breath when I saw it.

That changed when I heard it.

A growl.

Low and rough.

I froze.

And then I saw him.

Elijah.

Bent over, hands on his knees, sweat dripping off him. His chest heaving like he’d just run through hell. But his eyes, God, those eyes weren’t normal. They glowed. Bright, burning green. Like a warning. Like pure unfiltered hunger.

My stomach dropped.

I should’ve left. Should’ve run, it was just both of us there. It was dangerous. But the way he looked at me, like I was meat, like he hadn’t eaten in days, I couldn’t move.

“Elijah,” I whispered. My throat felt raw.

His head snapped up. A smirk tugged at his mouth, sharp and dangerous. “Little human.”

My pulse went nuts. I clutched my bag, edging toward the door. “I didn’t see anything. I was just leaving—”

Too slow.

He was on me in a blink. Hoodie fisted in his hand, dragging me back hard into his chest. Heat rolling off him like fire. My spine slammed against him.

“Going somewhere?” His voice scraped against my ear.

My brain screamed run, scream, shove, but my body? My body didn’t listen. My skin buzzed, like it was alive in a way it shouldn’t be. My breath came too fast.

“Don’t touch me, people will talk,” I blurted. “If they see me with you, they’ll think I was trying to—”

His laugh cut me off. Harsh. Cruel. “As if I’d ever let anyone think you had that kind of power.”

I tried to twist, shove him off, but it just pulled me tighter against him. His thigh slid between mine. His grip was hard on my hips. And then I felt him, hard against my leg.

Heat shot straight through me, sharp and merciless. My face burned. My body betrayed me.

“Elijah, let me go,” I said, but it came out cracked and weak.

He didn’t, and deep down I didn’t want him to.