Marked by the Alpha Team Chapter 02

Marked by the Alpha Team Chapter 02

Viral on Day One
LUNA

Orientation did not go well.

I slipped into the track complex five minutes late, breathing a little harder than I’d liked with my curls sticking to my neck like they were out to get me. Coach Ramirez stopped mid-sentence as soon as he noticed me, and stood still with his arms crossed, and his dark eyes narrowing on me like I’d personally insulted him.

Everyone else, which was about twenty other scholarship athletes, turned to look in my direction, which was one of my worst nightmares, so I quickly mumbled an apology about the bus being late and took the only empty seat at the back.

For the next hour Coach drilled us on rules, schedules, and expectations, and every time his gaze swept the room, it stayed on me a second longer than everyone else. When he handed out the practice calendars, he had practically slapped mine into my hand and muttered, “Don’t be late again, Merrick. We don’t hand out full rides to people who can’t tell time.”

Great. First day and I was already on his bad side. Could this day possibly get any worse?

By the time we were dismissed, my stomach was in knots. I grabbed my duffel and got out of there fast with my head down, trying to ignore the curious stares from the other runners. I just wanted to find my dorm, unpack my bags that I’d been told were already waiting in my room since I sent them in advance, and after that, I’ll pretend the morning hadn’t happened.

Hawthorne Hall was supposed to be a ten-minute walk from the athletic complex, but it felt like thirty. The campus was even bigger than I thought, the paths twisting between old brick buildings and wide lawns. My phone map kept spinning, and every time I thought I had the right dorm, it turned out to be the wrong one. I must have circled the same courtyard twice.

Finally I found Hawthorne, a tall red-brick building with ivy crawling up the sides, and I pushed through the front doors, relieved to be out of the sun. The lobby smelled like popcorn and cheap perfume, and just as I was walking past, a group of girls lounging on the couches would look up at me. They stopped talking, and just stared like they had never seen a person before, then one whispered something to her friend, and they both smirked.

I kept moving, heading straight to the third floor, room 312. The hallway was loud with doors open, music playing, and girls laughing. Every time I passed an open door or a cluster in the hall, more heads turned, I got more stares, and there was more whispering. I felt like I’d grown a second head or something, and my cheeks burned, but I kept my chin up and walked faster.

When I finally found 312, the door was slightly open. I pushed it wider and stopped dead.

The room was decently sized, with two beds, two desks, and two closets with sunlight pouring in through a big window. One side was completely bare with white walls, an empty desk, and a neatly made bed. Mine, I guessed.

The other side? Total chaos.

Posters covered almost every inch of wall space. Shirtless guys with perfect abs and smoldering looks, rock bands, movie stars, and then… wolves. Big, gorgeous photos of wolves running through snow, wolves howling at the moon, and wolves with glowing eyes. One huge poster showed a half-human, half-wolf creature that had ripped muscles, claws, fur along the arms, and a face caught somewhere between man and beast.

I stood there staring, duffel still on my shoulder. What the hell was this?

The door swung open behind me, and I jumped.

A girl with bright red hair piled in a messy bun bounced in, arms full of books and a half-eaten granola bar. She had pale skin, round glasses, and a wide, contagious grin that lit up her whole face the second she saw me.

“You must be Luna!” she said, dumping her stuff on her bed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I had film theory and the professor talks forever. I’m Ivy. Ivy Hart. Hi!”

She stuck out her hand, and I shifted my bag and shook it awkwardly.

“Luna Merrick,” I said. “Yeah, hi.”

Ivy glanced around like she was seeing the room for the first time. “Sorry about the mess. I meant to clean up, but I literally ran out the door this morning, but as you can already tell, that side’s all yours.” She pointed to the empty half. “Decorate it however you want. Put up posters of hot athletes or whatever. I bet you’ve got some good ones.”

I blinked. “How did you know I’m an athlete?”

She laughed, a bright, bubbly sound, and flopped onto her bed. “Girl, you’re famous now. Didn’t you know?”

I frowned. “Famous? What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Ivy dug her phone out of her pocket, scrolled for a second, then turned the screen toward me.

My stomach dropped.

It was a video, a crystal clear video of me lining up next to Ryder on the football field, me pulling ahead in the race, and me crossing the end zone first. Ryder bent over, hands on his knees, looking stunned, and the camera zoomed in on the team, catching how all of them had frozen, and stared at me like I was a ghost. You could even hear someone whisper “Omega” near the end.

The caption read, ‘New girl smokes Ryder Graves on his own field. Who is she???’ with a couple of dumb emojis, but it surprisingly had a lot of views.

My mouth went dry. “Someone filmed that?”

Ivy nodded, her eyes wide. “Multiple someones, actually. It’s all over the school’s socials, and you’re, like, viral on your first day. That’s lucky!”

“Lucky?” I repeated, my voice flat. “I have zero interest in going viral. Why is the whole school making a big deal out of a stupid race? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

Ivy stared at me like I’d just said the sky was green. “Do you seriously not know who you raced?”

“Some cocky football guy?” I shot back, letting her know that I was definitely not impressed just because I happened to race some hot guy.

“Ryder Graves,” she said slowly, like I was missing something huge. “Star running back, and one of the gods of Blackridge University. He and his friends, Jace Callahan, Knox Wilder, Theo Vale, and Orion Dusk, are basically untouchable. Think gorgeous insane athletes that come from incredibly rich families, basically the whole package. Girls throw themselves at them, guys want to be them, and they never, ever pay attention to anyone new, especially not a transfer girl. But you, my dear, didn’t just beat Ryder, you got all five of them staring at you like you hung the moon.”

I snorted. “Sounds like high school.”

Ivy laughed again. “Pretty much, but on steroids.”

I turned away, unzipping my duffel and starting to unpack my other things just to have something to do with my hands. T-shirts, running gear, and a couple framed photos of me and Mom. I set them on the empty desk carefully.

Famous, viral, and attention. Exactly what I didn’t want, especially if it had nothing to do with my incredible ability as an athlete.

I’d come here to run, study, graduate, and disappear into a normal life, not become campus gossip because I beat some jock in a sprint.

The rest of the afternoon passed by with me unpacking and attempting to multitask by making small talk with Ivy who talked a lot, like, a lot. She was easy to listen to, though, as well as funny, and having zero filter. She told me about her film major, her obsession with werewolf lore (which explained the posters), and how Blackridge had all these old legends about wolves in the mountains.

I nodded along, half-listening, still mad about the video.

By early evening, my side of the room looked less empty with my bed made, clothes hung up, and running shoes lined under the desk. Ivy had dragged me to the dining hall for burgers, where even more people stared and were very clearly gossiping about me, and it got so bad that I had to keep my head down and eat fast.

Back in the room, I changed into sweats and crawled onto my bed, planning to scroll on my phone for a bit and then crash early since I was still feeling jet lag from the bus ride and all the running had me wiped.

That’s when my phone vibrated, showing that I had a message from an unknown number. Reluctantly, I opened the message.

‘Come outside. We’re waiting.’

I stared at the screen, wondering who the hell it was, but before I could ask, another text came.

‘It’s Ryder. The guy you were lucky to outrun earlier. Me and the guys are downstairs, and you’ve got five minutes or we come up and get you ourselves.’

My heart slammed against my ribs, and I stared at the message for a full minute, wondering to myself if I had started seeing things. How did he have my number? Just how many of them did he mean when he said “the guys”? And why did they want me outside?

I sat up slowly, glancing at Ivy. She was at her desk with her headphones on, typing something on her laptop. She hadn’t noticed.

I looked out the window, and even though I was on the third floor, the parking lot was visible between buildings, and from here I could make out five tall figures leaning against a black SUV under the streetlight. It was a little too far to see their faces clearly, but something about the way they stood, looking all calm and dangerous, made my skin prickle.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my phone vibrated again.

‘Clock’s ticking, track girl.’

I swallowed hard. Part of me wanted to ignore it, lock the door, pretend I was asleep, and let them get bored until they eventually decided to leave, but another part, the competitive part that never backed down from a challenge, was already sliding off the bed and pulling on my sneakers.

I didn’t know what they wanted, or why my stomach flipped at the thought of seeing them again, but I wasn’t about to let them think they could scare me.

I grabbed my jacket, told Ivy I was stepping out for some air, and headed for the door.