All Chapters of Fated to my Alpha nemesis : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Damon has never let a slight go unpunished. Which means I’m either already dead… or something is very, very wrong. By noon, Damon should have humiliated me. At least twice. He hadn’t even looked at me. I keep glancing over my shoulder, half convinced I woke up in some parallel universe where Damon wasn’t— —Damon. Bailey is saying something beside me, but I’m only half listening. Because Geography came and went. And Damon wasn’t leaning against the lockers outside the classroom. He’s always there. Always. Right where the hallway narrows so I have to brush past him. Right where he can murmur something to ruin my day under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear and quiet enough that no one else does. Today? Empty wall. No lazy, infuriating “Micaela.” Just lockers. And my own reflection looking mildly unhinged. Then in class— Nothing. No paper balls hitting the back of my head. No chair nudged forward to clip my ankles when I stood up. No

Bailey isn’t here. She's not meant to be. Which means I’m standing alone in a room full of people who would notice if I disappeared for the wrong reasons. I stay near the sidelines, careful to keep my distance from trouble. Trouble meaning stepping too close to the wrong people. And the wrong people being everyone in this building except Cole and my parents. It’s no secret that Alpha Sirius and the Delta pair never supported their Beta adopting a human girl. The Were Council — who I prefer to call the Grey Beards, not because they all possess outrageously long beards or anything — had openly criticized Mum and Dad for their “decisions” during one of the gatherings. The Were Council, who governed what happened within and beyond the Park borders, settled disputes, approved bloodline unions, sanctioned wars, apparently had opinions about me. I was nine. Too young to fully understand Councilman Mortius’ words. Old enough to feel the weight of them. Cole explained it t

I scrub my hands longer than necessary. The sink squeaks when I turn it off. I count to ten before I reach for his door. He hates when I knock before entering his room. I do it anyway. I wait a second before turning the knob and stepping inside. There’s a bottle of sanitizer on the table by his cot. Another by the door. Like we’re at war with something invisible. The room always feels smaller when I visit. Like the air has been portioned out carefully. The first thing I hear is Rafe arguing with the nurse about the volume on the TV. He sounds exactly like himself. Which is both comforting and terrifying. The room looks the same as it did the last time I was here, except for the oxygen line running like a quiet underline across Rafe’s chest. I adjust my face mask and walk deeper into the ward. Rafe looks up. His eyes meet mine, and his face breaks into a smile. I smile back. “Look who decided to finally visit,” Rafe says, voice dry and teasing, thou

I watch as the car pulls up to the curb. I leave my bedroom window and rush downstairs, taking a steadying breath before opening the front door. Cole remains in the driver’s seat, waiting. He’s been driving Talia and me to school ever since he got his license three years ago. Even after graduating, he still makes time to drop us off. I failed the theory once and the driving test three times. So yeah. I still don’t have my license. I hesitate before walking down the pathway. I consider the backseat, even though I always sit in the front. My feet decide for me. I find myself standing in front of the passenger door. After a quiet exhale, I open it and slide into the seat. “Hey,” I say, placing my school bag on my lap and doing my best to seem normal as I avoid his eyes. I can feel Cole’s gaze on me, but I keep my focus on the road ahead like it’s suddenly fascinating. “Hey,” he replies. “Talia?” “She’s coming. She physically cannot be on time. In her words, it’s

I wait. For Dad to finish negotiating. For the stranger to finally agree. For the place, time of the exchange, and next meeting to be set. For this nightmare to become real. Only when I am sure they had gone do I move. Damon’s grip is iron around my wrists, his body pressing mine into the dirt. “Not even going to scream?” he murmurs, low against my ear. “I'm offended.” He shifts, deliberate. That’s all I need. I twist, then pull hard at his wrist. He slams me back into the dirt. Air rushes from my lungs. I shut my eyes, then open them. “Careful,” he says quietly. “I was being generous.” “What are you doing here?” I demand, ignoring him as I resume my efforts to wrench my wrist free. He studies me for a long second, cataloguing the tremor I can’t quite hide. “I could ask you the same thing.” Ice slides down my spine. His eyes don’t leave mine. Not blinking. Not warm. “I followed you.” “Why?” I ask, glaring. “I saw you leave,” he says. “You’re