Bound to the Wrong Alpha

Lola’s POV

Evelyn nudged my side with her elbow. “Lola, you’re staring again.”

I blinked and quickly looked down at my tray. My mashed potatoes didn’t need that much attention, but they were a good excuse not to meet her eyes. “I wasn’t,” I mumbled, but we both knew I was lying.

Across the cafeteria, Flint sat with a group of the prettiest girls in the pack. They were all over him, laughing at nothing, brushing their hair back, leaning in like they couldn’t get close enough. 

And him? He didn’t even blink. His face was cold, unreadable, like none of it touched him at all. He sat straight, hands loose on the table, like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the entire pack.

They kept trying to pull him into their conversation, but there was this stillness about him. Distant. Untouchable. And somehow, that only made him stand out more.

I looked away before anyone caught me staring. Girls like that had a chance. I was just the quiet one. The bookworm. The not-quite-pretty-enough foster sister he probably didn’t even see that way.

“Exactly.” Evelyn said, sipping her juice. “He’s good-looking, and he’s the future Alpha. And you’ve got no blood ties. Plus, you’re smart, you’re kind, and let’s be honest, his girlfriend? She’s not all that.”

I gave her a look. “Evelyn…”

She leaned closer. “You’ve been in love with him for a long time, tell him.”

“I can’t.” I pushed my glasses up and stared down at my tray. “He’s my adoptive brother. If I tell him, it’ll ruin everything. What if my parents find out? What if it hurts them?”

Evelyn let out a sigh and leaned her chin into her hand. She frowned. “Flint doesn’t think you’re invisible. Maybe you’re not flashy like the others, but you’re smart and real. They’d want you to be happy.”

She didn’t push further, though. That’s what I liked about her. She knew when to stop.

Later, we stood outside the classroom building waiting for our next class. It was one of the rare mixed-year courses, so I was already nervous. 

I held my notebook to my chest and fidgeted with the pen clipped to the cover.

Then I saw him. Flint.

He walked toward us down the hallway, head slightly tilted as he listened to a classmate speak. His hair was still damp, dark strands clinging to his forehead like he’d just washed it. 

There was a clean, crisp scent lingering in the air with soap and distinctly nice scent about  him. He looked effortlessly fresh, like even rinsing off training left him somehow more put together than everyone else. He was always early, always prepared.

“I hope we sit near him today,” Evelyn whispered.

I nodded without thinking, but before I could take a step, someone bumped me hard from the right.

I stumbled.

Straight into Flint’s chest.

His arm came around me quickly, steadying my waist.

The warmth of his body hit me first then the scent. I froze in his arms, my eyes wide, and face tilted up.

His eyes met mine for a second. “Are you alright?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

At school, I always tried to keep my distance from Flint. Everyone knew we were adoptive siblings, and I didn’t want people to start talking or spreading rumors about us.

Whenever I could, I avoided being seen alone with him. I thought it was safer if people saw us as just brother and sister—then no one would suspect anything or gossip behind our backs.

I swallowed. “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

I stepped back quickly, flustered. All around us, girls were glaring, whispering, their jealousy thick in the air.

He gave me a small nod and walked past us. I stayed rooted in place for a second longer, then followed Evelyn into the classroom.

My seat was nowhere near his.

He sat by the window, flipping through a textbook, but I could tell he wasn’t reading. His eyes lingered on the same page too long, and once or twice, they flicked upward like he was watching someone else entirely.

I sighed and opened my own book. Except mine wasn’t a textbook. It was my notebook, my diary, sort of. The one where I wrote down everything I couldn’t say. Including the short story I’d been too embarrassed to send. A fantasy where Flint wasn’t my brother and didn’t have a girlfriend. I stared at the words on the page. 

I didn’t know I was adopted into the Moonlight Crown Pack until later. I always felt different, weaker, not like the rest of the Flint family.

When I found out, it made sense. They took me in out of kindness, and gave me a place to belong.

But over time, as we spent more time together, I started to fall for the boy who was supposed to be my powerful adoptive brother.

He’d always been kind to me. Never loud, never pushy. When other kids teased me for being too quiet or reading too much, he’d just walk over and give them one look. They’d stop.

He once brought me hot tea during a snowstorm because I’d forgotten my gloves. Another time, he walked me home after dark without saying a word about it. Little things. But they stuck.

It wasn’t just me. Everyone noticed him. Girls whispered about his jawline, his shoulders, the way he moved during sparring practice. But I knew another side of him.

And that was the part I couldn’t stop loving.

A whisper broke through my thoughts.

“Did you hear?” A boy a few rows ahead leaned toward his friend. “Morgan beat Flint in the end-of-semester match.”

I looked up.

Voices rose as more people joined in.

“No way. I thought Flint had it.”

“Yeah, but Morgan pulled ahead in the last round.”

“They’re pretty evenly matched,” someone else said. “It could’ve gone either way.”

I frowned. Morgan was in my class, loud, confident, always showing off but undeniably talented. Flint had always been more focused, more controlled. They were different, but both strong.

“They’ve been trading wins for years,” Evelyn whispered beside me.

“Yeah,” I said. “This time, it was Morgan. Next time… who knows.”

Everyone knew the history. Flint was the king’s son. Morgan, the son of the king’s younger brother.

Flint had always carried himself like a leader. Morgan? He didn’t even seem to care. He joked around, skipped meetings, flirted with everything that moved. He had Alpha blood, but didn't take the throne seriously.

Still, people were now questioning who was stronger.

Flint hadn’t looked like himself that day after the battle. Something had been off.

After school, I made my way to the boys’ dormitory. I climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and found Flint walking down the hallway, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Flint,” I called out.

He paused.

I continued "I wanted to say… about the battle. I think it wasn’t fair.”

He gave me a blank look. “It’s done.”

“But I think someone might have cheated,” I continued. “You’re stronger than Morgan. Everyone knows that.”

Flint’s expression turned cold. “It’s over. Let it go.”

He then turned and walked away, I watched him leave. I felt sad and didn't want to head in his direction, so I turned around to leave the other way.

In doing so, I slammed right into someone else.

My face hit a bare chest.

Warm skin. Muscles. Water droplets.

I stepped back in shock.

A tall guy with damp black hair stood there, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.  He looked amused. 

“You do realize,” he said, “this is the boys’ bathroom entrance.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He smirked. “Do you want to shower with the hottest Alpha in the country?"