The Alpha's Fated Kiss

Elara 

I had no idea my life was about to end. 

Not literally, though some days later, it felt close enough, but the interpretation of my life that I trusted, believed in, and planned my future around was already unraveling by the time I walked into Crestwood High that morning. I just did n't know it yet. 

The halls were loud, packed with bodies and voices and the smell of cheap incense and bottom cleaner. Lockers slammed. Somebody laughed too loud near the stairwell. A group of freshers ran past me like they were late to something important, and I smiled despite all that.  I was late too. But I didn't care. 

My heart was light, expectant, like it was carrying a secret all its own. Mark had a game this weekend, scouts were rumored to be coming, and I'd spent half the night sketching a little surprise for him, something special, something that said I see you. He'd been distant lately, but I told myself it was presumably stress. College operations, football, life. 

We were solid. We had to be. 

I shaped the belt of my bag and wove through the crowd, already rehearsing what I'd say when I saw him. maybe I'd tease him for not texting back. maybe I'd just kiss him and forget the vexation altogether. 

That was when I felt it. An impropriety. 

It slid down my spine like ice water, sharp and unlooked-for, stealing the air from my lungs. My way slowed without my authorization. My body shivered. 

I knew Mark was closeby, not because I saw him but because something inside me felt his presence, the way you smell a storm before the sky darkens. I turned the corner by the lockers and there he was. 

Mark Harrison. My love. Star quarterback. Golden boy of Crestwood High. 

His back was against a locker. His arm was wrapped around a girl in a short cheer skirt, her fingers fisted in his jersey. She laughed vocally, tilting her head up toward him like she already belonged there. 

Bethany. My mind rejected it at first. This could n't be happening. Not him. Not us. 

" You're a bad boy, " she murmured, her voice sweet and low. 

" Only for you, " Mark replied. 

Then he kissed her. It was n't a mistake, nor a blench or a slip. 

A kiss. The world went silent. 

My stomach dropped so violently I allowed

I might throw up right there on the polished bottoms. My cognizance chimed. The air smelled awry, too sweet, too sharp, like something rotten hiding beneath incense. 

" Oh, Mark, " Bethany laughed when they broke the piecemeal. " Stop it. You know we can't be seen together. What if your gal finds us? " 

" She's in class, " he said easily. " She's never late. You do n't need to worry. " 

I made a sound. It was n't loud. It was n't dramatic. But it was enough. 

Mark's head snapped up.