Soccer Alpha Begs Me Back

The first thing I heard was the low purr of engines. Not just any cars, expensive ones, the kind that glide rather than rumble, carrying the smell of polished leather and wealth in their wake.My eyes snapped open.For a second, I thought it was another dream. Omegas like me didn’t wake up to the scent of luxury. We woke up to stale bread, cold rooms, and the knowledge that we’d spend the day serving someone else’s comfort. But… the sound was real. Growing closer.Hope flickered in my chest. I knew it was stupid because hope was fragile.But maybe…Maybe the Moon was done playing games with me. Maybe this time, the mate the Goddess chose would actually keep me.But doubt settled just as quickly. Three times I’d been rejected. Once in front of an entire pack. Each rejection was its own brand of humiliation, and the scars weren’t just emotional. The mate bond didn’t heal easily.I threw on the first dress I could find, almost calling for a maid before the memory cut sharp. The house was

If the first week of school was meant to be a “fresh start,” then the Moon clearly forgot to CC me on the memo.I finally found my amphitheater hall after walking in circles so many times I could’ve been mistaken for a lost freshman. I’d just slipped into a seat when the room suddenly shifted into chaos, chairs screeched, sneakers squeaked, and half the class bolted toward the wide glass windows like moths to a flame.“He’s here!” someone squealed.“He looks even better in person,” another gushed.Curiosity won. I should’ve known better but I found my legs leading me to the window and I even dared crane my neck to look.Outside, the campus courtyard was a war zone of flashing cameras and screaming girls. Journalists jogged to keep up with the tall, broad-shouldered figure stepping out of a sleek black car. His blonde hair caught the sunlight, his movements so sure and commanding it made sense why half the world apparently adored him.Xavian Blackridge.I gripped the edge of the desk.

“Do you have a death wish?”The words were small in the room and enormous in my skull. He said them like a fact you could trip over something both courtly and deadly.My body moved before I decided it should. I stepped back and my shoulder slammed into the cold metal partition. The hook bit into the soft place beneath my scapula. I wanted to laugh because it hurt and because the world had become a bad joke I hadn’t auditioned for. Instead my hands went up, useless.He kept coming.It wasn’t a run or a lunge; it was a steady taking of space, a deliberate swallowing of inches until his shadow filled the stall and my chest felt too small. His scent was like rain on pavement, cedar wood, something like iron rolled over me and made my wolf pop to attention. She whimpered, quiet and animal, and I wanted to sink through the tile at how exposed that sound made me feel.His fingers landed at my throat. Not violent enough to stop me breathing. Not soft enough to be anything but a warning. The g