MARKED BY THE LONE ALPHA

I stared at my reflection in the shattered mirror of a motel bathroom. Blood trickled down from my shoulder, soaking into the sleeve of my black hoodie. The pain throbbed like hell—but I was used to it.

I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and muttered, “This back pain is killing me.”

With a wince, I reached for my phone and dialed the number. As it rang, I peeked through the cracked door into the living room.

Bodies littered the floor, limbs bent the wrong way. The furniture was splintered. Plates broken. Bullet holes in the walls. Smoke rose from a smoldering curtain fire.

Another successful night.

“Lea?”

The familiar voice made me blink.

“Already done,” I said coolly. “Now my salary. Send it.”

I ended the call. No time for back-and-forth. No need for confirmation. The High Table always paid...eventually.

I gave one last glance at the bodies and muttered, “You all gave me a hard time. You better be worth every single penny.”

Then I bolted for the window.

As my boots hit the fire escape, I pulled the trigger on a small remote in my hand.

The entire room exploded behind me...fire, smoke, and shattered glass raining down. A hellish goodbye.

I didn’t flinch. It was my signature—burn everything, leave no evidence.

I fixed my hair, wiped a speck of ash from my cheek, and walked away like it was nothing.

My name is Lea. I’m a platinum-ranked assassin under the High Table. That rank? It means I’m one of the best. It means the world fears me.

Or, in simpler terms:

I’m freaking cool.

Twelve hours later…

The night-killer turned into a quiet loser by morning.

By day, I’m Fara, a plain, clumsy college girl with no social life and glasses too big for my face. The exact opposite of what I really am.

But don’t pity me. The loser act? That’s part of the cover.

“Fara! What took you so long?”

I looked up. Shiela. Loud, bubbly, always in everyone’s business. She called herself my friend, and I didn’t bother to correct her.

“You really are slow, Fara,” she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the campus gates. “You should learn to sprint or teleport or something.”

If only she knew.

I let her pull me along, faking a clumsy stumble for good measure.

The school bell rang, high-pitched and irritating. We made it just in time as the professor walked into the room.

“Barely made it!” Shiela grinned as we slid into our seats. “Oh...by the way! I heard there’s a transfer student today.”

I didn’t reply. I never talk in class, not even to her. Fara doesn’t chatter.

But then...

Something hit me.

A wave of tension washed over the room like a thick fog. My muscles stiffened. My breathing slowed.

Bloodlust!

My instincts flared. It was subtle but unmistakable—the presence of a predator.

The professor cleared his throat. “Alright, shut the hell up, folks. We’ve got someone new joining today.”

And then she walked in.

Everything around her seemed to quiet.

The girl was stunning—pale skin like porcelain, eyes sharp and unreadable, lips tinged red like she bit into a rose before stepping inside. Her presence wasn’t loud. It was worse.

It was controlled

Calculated.

The girls around us squealed.

“PRETTYYYYY!”

“She’s so cute!”

“Is she a model?!”

“She’s unbelievably pale,” Shiela whispered beside me, her eyebrows furrowing. “Like... spooky pale.”

Yeah. I noticed.

“Nice to be here,” the girl said with a gentle smile. “I’m Rebecca.”

I stared, unmoving.

Her bloodlust was gone—but my gut told me what I’d felt wasn’t my imagination. That girl had the scent of death clinging to her.

Still, I turned away. If she was a threat, I’d deal with her later.

That Night...

After surviving hours of mind-numbing lectures, I got the message.

“New assignment. Sending target details now.”

I opened the file, read the name, memorized the photo.

Simple job. One corporate employee. No alarms. Silent kill.

I suited up. Black-on-black. Gloves. Rope. Knives. Gun.

I scaled a nearby building, anchoring a rope across to the 12th floor of the target’s office. The window was unguarded. Typical.

I slipped in through the ventilation, crawling like a shadow until I hovered above the main office.

There he was—early 40s, typing away furiously, files opening and closing on multiple monitors.

“Installing viruses to destroy your own company,” I whispered. “Shame.”

I dropped from the vent like a ghost, landed without a sound, and moved behind him.

He turned just as I drove the knife in. He never screamed.

Mission complete.

I looked down at his body. Just another name. Another payment. I didn’t feel anything—not guilt, not pride.

Just blood on my hands, and a leash on my soul.

“Nice work.”

The voice was like a thunderclap in my brain.

I spun around.

Too late.

A hand wrapped around my throat, choking me, lifting me into the air.

I kicked wildly, elbowed the attacker, reached for the knife on my waist...plunged it deep into their chest.

They stumbled back.

I gasped, coughing, and drew my gun.

Moonlight poured through the windows.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

Rebecca?

Standing in front of me, smiling sweetly, with my knife still in her chest.

“I knew you weren’t ordinary,” she said. “You reek of blood. But your blood? It smells…”

She took a long inhale.

"Delicious.”

No time to think.

I pulled the trigger and shot her in the head.

She collapsed.

I stood over her, breath sharp and fast. Relief tried to sink in.

But—

“Nice shot.”

My eyes snapped open.

Rebecca stood up. No bullet wound. No blood. No scar.

Just that same smile.

“H-how?” I stammered.

“Oh, I’m definitely dead,” she said with a chuckle. “Been that way for a while.”

I took a step back. My grip on the gun tightened.

The knife wound was gone. The gunshot vanished. Her red eyes shimmered.

“Who are you?” I asked, trembling.

She tilted her head.

“Wrong question, darling.”

“The right one is… what am I?”

Before I could run, she moved—faster than anything human.

I was thrown across the room like a ragdoll, crashing through desks and metal shelves.

Pain exploded in my thigh. My arm bent at an awful angle.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t move.

Rebecca walked over, slow and steady, like she had all the time in the world.

She crouched, lifted me effortlessly, and brought her face close to mine.

“You know, I was just going to observe you,” she said softly. “But your blood smells too good. I couldn’t resist.”

She sniffed my neck. My vision spun.

Am I going to die?

What is she?

What the hell is happening?

Someone… anyone… save me!