Page 50 of Alpha King

I don’t mean to, but I find myself searching the room for him again. I saw him when we came in–saw the murderous glances he sent our way.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy them.

I’d also be lying if I complained about the way his broad shoulders fill a suit jacket. Or how his muscular ass looks as he struts around in those pants. It’s sinful. And he came to the dance alone. That was the first thing I noted when we arrived. At least, I haven’t seen a girl on his arm.

“I seriously hope they didn’t pay for this D.J.,” Luke complains. “My twelve-year-old brother could have put together a better playlist.”

“It’s abysmal.” Lincoln takes the flask from my hand and takes a deep drink. “How long do you guys want to stay?”

He and Rayne were going to come to Homecoming as friends, but it turns out she and her stepbrother are an item and came out to their parents. Also–in more crazy drama this weekend–we found out she went missing after Thursday night’s game, but her stepbrother found her. I’m not sure what the deal is.

I’m guessing I was wrong, and Rayne is a wolf, too, because everybody’s tight-lipped about it. Half the student population, including Abe, were missing from school Friday–maybe looking for her.

A group of girls come over and surround Lincoln. I guess his human-ness isn’t quite as offensive as mine.

“So this is who you endure being around every day.” Luke looks down his nose at the girls talking to Lincoln. They’re no less beautiful than girls from Landhower, they just aren’t wearing Gucci and Prada and trying to outdo one another with money.

A few weeks ago, I would have joined him in the Wolf Ridge bashing. Now, I’m feeling oddly protective of everyone here.

There’s an announcement about the Homecoming royalty coming out to the floor. Luke automatically starts to lead me out there, and I have to tug his arm to stop him. “It’s not us.”

The look of disgust on his face grows louder.

Rayne and her stepbrother take the floor, creating a wild buzz of scandalized murmurs. My eyes are on Abe, though.

He has some cheerleader’s hand in his, and the way she stares up at him with total adoration makes me want to puke. He’s not looking at her, though. He’s looking at–

Our gazes lock. Gaze is the wrong word, though. More like glare.

The fog starts to lift from me. Heat starts in my core, building there. Tingles race up my arms.

“Let’s get out of here.” Luke loops an arm around my back and leads me toward the door.

I have to resist the instinct to look over my shoulder at Abe. I already know he’s watching.

No part of me wants to leave the dance. It’s pathetic and awful and full of strangers and people I hate, but leaving with Luke would signify a choice.

Rejecting this town and my new life in favor of the old one.

The one that doesn’t exist or work anymore.

“Luke–” We’re at the door. I slow down, making him turn.

Impatience flickers on his face. “Lauren, seriously. Why are we even here?”

I step back, out of his grasp. We’re blocking the doorway, but I ignore the people trying to get through. “I didn’t want to come to this dance—you did, Luke.”

“Well, I didn’t know it was going to be so lame.” He searches my face with exasperation. “What’s happened to you?”

Guilt sits like a weight on my chest. My shoulders sag. I can’t put it off any longer. I walk through the doorway.

Luke follows. “What’s going on with you, babe?”

The babe grates on me like biting into tin foil. I keep walking until we get to the Tesla, then I stop and turn. This shouldn’t be so hard.

We’re not even close anymore.

It’s just that Luke was there for me when my mom died. Granted, he sort of fed on the drama of the thing. I think I was more the society princess to him rather than a real person. With some time and distance, I now see that my pain was currency he used to prop up his own importance. He did a lot of bragging to the other kids that he was at the hospital with us when she passed, and that he was one of the pallbearers at the funeral.

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