Twins For My Bully's Alpha Dad

Marcus had a cruel way of playing jokes on me, and he was never satisfied until the whole school laughed at me at least once a day, and I made the school newspaper once a week for being the biggest laughing stock.

Five minutes ago, I smelled like my late mother’s favorite cotton rose perfume. Now I smelled like rotten fish. The dirty fish water from the bucket that had been hanging above the door clung to me, soaking through my uniform and dripping from my hair.

“I thought we should get you some scent since your little wolf doesn’t have any,” Marcus muttered, sitting on top of my desk with his legs crossed.

Our classmates burst out laughing again.

He wasn’t lying. My wolf didn’t have a natural scent, which was why I resorted to perfume. It had been the butt of their jokes for as long as I could remember.

“Who would even want that as a mate?” Marcus’s best friend, Macy, added.

“Maybe a vampire,” someone called from the back.

That earned another round of laughter.

I kept my eyes down, hoping they would get bored if I didn’t react. That was the mistake I had learned not to make with Marcus. He could smell embarrassment better than any wolf in the room, and the moment he sensed it, he pushed harder.

“Aww, Billie.” Marcus leaned toward me, pretending to study my face. “Don’t look so sad. It’s just a joke.”

I wiped a drop of dirty water from my cheek with the back of my hand. “It’s not funny.”

I never should’ve said anything. All I had to do was endure for three more years until I finished college. Then I wouldn’t be Alpha Trojan’s ward anymore. I wouldn’t be related to Marcus in any way. I would be free to make my own decisions and leave.

“The attitude,” Marcus said. “I was beginning to think the fish water killed it.”

More laughter.

My throat tightened, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I reached for my bag instead, intending to get out of the classroom before he could come up with something else.

I barely got my fingers around the strap when someone threw a sandwich at me. It hit my shoulder and fell onto the floor, making the room erupt all over again.

My heart was hammering so fast that it felt like it might just explode. And there was nothing I could do to make it stop. To make them stop.

“Oops,” a boy near the window said, grinning.

Marcus looked at him, then at me. “That was an accident.”

Another piece of food flew across the room. This time it hit me in the chest.

I flinched but didn’t say anything.

“What?” Macy asked. “You don't like food?”

He picked up an apple from someone's desk and tossed it lightly from one hand to the other.

“Maybe she needs to eat more healthily. She's too fat.” She threw it.

I ducked, and the apple struck the wall behind me.

“Hey!” I shouted, unable to help myself anymore.

That’s when a whole bunch of things came at me, a carton of milk, custard, lemon juice. The laughter became louder with every hit.

Someone hit me with something hard and I backed away in pain, clutching my bag against my stomach.

Marcus hopped down from my desk. “You're making this so much more fun.”

It had been like this since I moved into his home at fifteen, right after my dad’s death. Dad was his father’s beta and best friend for as long as I could remember. Marcus had been my best friend since we were born. We used to do everything together, and he would always protect me from bullies. Now he was my biggest tormentor.

Everything changed when my dad died four years ago, and Alpha Trojan took me in as his ward.

“Billie, are you going to stand there all day?” Marcus’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts.

I looked up to find him holding a carton of milk in one hand, a smile spreading across his face as he watched me. “Can you stop? Just this once.”

“I'm trying to,” he replied, sounding amused. “But you keep standing there looking like that.”

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you want everyone to feel sorry for you.” He shrugged.

Macy snorted from beside him. “She always looks like that.”

Someone behind me laughed, and I felt my face heat up again. I tightened my grip around my bag and walked toward the door, but I barely made it two steps before another carton came flying across the room. It struck my head and burst, covering the side of my face in cold yogurt.

“Sorry!” a girl called out, laughing so hard that she could barely get the word out.

I didn’t bother turning around. The tears were already threatening to come out and if I cried near them, things would only get worse until I got a panic attack. I already knew how this would end. Even asking Marcus to stop was a fat chance.

I pulled the door open and crashed into hard muscle.