FATED TO THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME
Our horses moved in unison, the rhythmic pounding of hooves like a heartbeat in the dust.
The town came into view quickly. Vibrant yet weary, its spirit dulled by the recent rogue attacks.
We entered the marketplace, a hive of noise and barter. My first stop was a humble fruit stall.
“Excuse me, sir. I’d like an apple,” I said.
The vendor looked me up and down with a sneer. “An apple? Just one? Where are you from, young man?”
“Y–yes,” I stammered, genuinely puzzled.