COLLISION COURSE

Alina Harper hated mornings. Not the groggy, coffee-deficient mornings everyone complained about—she could handle those—but the kind that started with a sense of impending disaster, the subtle warning that her life was about to take a sharp, unwanted turn. Today was one of those mornings.

She slammed the door of her dorm room behind her, backpack slung over one shoulder, and let out a long sigh. College had only just begun, but already she felt like she was walking into a battlefield with no map. Between awkward dormmates, impossible class schedules, and professors who seemed to delight in assigning triple essays the day before a holiday, she was already exhausted.

And then there was him.

Rhett Blackwood.

The name alone made her stomach twist in irritation—and something else she refused to identify. He was the captain of the university hockey team, the kind of guy who made the entire campus swoon without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair that seemed to have its own natural gravity, and eyes that could slice through steel. People said he was charming, but Alina suspected charming was just a polite word for terrifying.

Her first encounter with him had been... disastrous, to put it mildly.

She rounded the corner near the gym and—predictably—collided with someone.

“Whoa—!”

Her books went flying in a chaotic cascade across the tile floor. She knelt frantically, muttering apologies, while trying to gather her scattered notes.

“I said, whoa!” a deep voice repeated, tinged with an edge that made her back straighten instinctively.

Alina looked up—and there he was. Of course it was Rhett Blackwood. Towering, athletic, and looking like he had been carved out of shadow and midnight sunlight. His brow was furrowed, and his intense gaze held hers like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, embarrassed. “I—uh—I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Rhett didn’t move. He tilted his head slightly, observing her with that unnerving, unreadable expression that always made her feel simultaneously exposed and completely out of her depth.

“You’re late,” he said finally, voice low, smooth, and dangerous.

“I’m not—” she began, but he cut her off with a hand gesture.

“Not even worth the explanation. Watch where you’re going, freshman.”

Alina bristled, annoyed despite the sudden heat creeping into her cheeks. “I’m not your freshman,” she snapped. “And I’m perfectly capable of—”

“Careful,” he interrupted, his gaze flickering, sharp and predatory. There was something in it, a subtle intensity she couldn’t place, something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She shook her head, frustrated at herself for feeling unnerved by a guy she barely knew.

Rhett sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smirk. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

Alina wanted to roll her eyes—but before she could respond, a low, guttural growl echoed from somewhere behind him.

Her stomach dropped. Growls weren’t normal college sounds. And the hairs on the back of her neck were screaming at her now.

Rhett’s body tensed. His hand flexed in a way that made Alina’s heart rate spike. He turned, scanning the hallway with a predator’s precision. The growl came again, louder this time, closer.

“What the hell—?” she whispered.

Rhett didn’t answer. His eyes glinted unnaturally in the fluorescent light, and for the first time, she noticed something strange about him—something that didn’t belong. His teeth, just a hint visible as he clenched his jaw, looked sharper than normal. His pupils seemed to stretch, narrowing into vertical slits for a fraction of a second before returning to normal.

Alina froze. Something in her gut screamed that she was looking at something not human.

“Go—inside,” Rhett ordered, voice low and urgent. His eyes softened for a split second as they landed on her, but the moment passed. “Now.”

Before she could argue, he shoved open the nearest door to the gym and ushered her inside. The growl intensified outside, followed by what sounded like the thump of heavy paws against concrete.

Alina’s pulse was pounding. “What—what was that?”

Rhett closed the door, securing it with a metal latch she didn’t know existed. He leaned back against the wall, running a hand through his dark hair. “You’re going to want to forget you ever heard it,” he said, voice calm but carrying the weight of a warning.

“Forget?!” she exclaimed. “You’re serious? You’re seriously telling me there’s something—”

“—not human,” he finished for her, his gaze sharp. “Yes.”

Alina blinked. “You’re—what, a…?” She trailed off, heart thudding.

He studied her carefully. “I said forget it. You can call it a… bad imagination if you want. But don’t make the mistake of thinking the world is normal. Not everyone in this campus is what they seem.”

Her mind raced. This was insane. Wolves. Growls. Predators. She had wanted a normal college life, not some supernatural horror story. Yet the way Rhett moved, the subtle tension in his body, the glint in his eyes—everything screamed that he wasn’t lying.

And somehow, she didn’t want to run.

“Look,” he said, suddenly serious, “you don’t know me. You’ve never seen this side of me before. Consider yourself lucky. Most people don’t get the warning.”

Alina narrowed her eyes. “Lucky? You nearly scared me to death!”

He smirked, that dangerous, unreadable smirk again. “Yeah, well… I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

A pause followed, heavy and charged with something she couldn’t identify. And then, just as quickly as it started, the moment shattered. The growling outside faded. The hallways returned to normal.

Alina took a shaky breath. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Rhett’s expression softened just a fraction. “Say nothing. Just… stay alive. That’s enough for now.”

She wanted to ask questions, but already he was moving toward the exit, each step deliberate and powerful, the kind that made her pulse thrum with a strange mix of fear and something else entirely.

And then, just before he disappeared down the hall, he glanced back. His voice, low and intimate, cut through the silence.

“Oh… and Harper?”

She looked up, heart in her throat.

“Try not to get yourself killed. I’d hate to have to save you again.”

And with that, he was gone.

Alina stood frozen, books clutched to her chest. Her rational brain screamed at her to run, to laugh, to dismiss everything as ridiculous. But a tiny, stubborn part of her knew better. Something about Rhett Blackwood was dangerous, real, and undeniably magnetic.

And she had a feeling she had just walked straight into the eye of the storm.

Cliffhanger Ending:

The last thing she heard before rounding the corner was a faint, low growl, almost behind her, almost inside her mind. And it wasn’t Rhett.

Alina froze. Something was coming. Something that wanted more than just to scare her.