Alpha Betrayed: A Dark Shifter

JULIET

The next day seems both to last forever and to zip past in no time at all.

It’s as if we’re marooned in the library with every witch book known to man and beast, looking for answers for Diana, for an eternity and then suddenly, the last sleep before the trials is over and I’m bolting upright in bed as my alarm bleats in the darkness.

“F**k this shit.” Layla g****s as she rolls over in her twin bed, putting a pillow over her head. “It’s too early to go fight for my life. Don’t they know some of us aren’t morning people?”

“I’ll grab you a coffee from the common room,” I say, tugging on my yellow Variant jersey over the sports bra and black athletic shorts I slept in. “If you’re up and dressed when I get back, you get it. If not, I throw it out the window.”

“You wouldn’t waste good coffee,” Layla mumbles. “You’re not a monster.”

“Try me,” I tell her as I leave the room, pulling my hair into a messy bun on top of my head as I go. I can smell some of the other girls in the bathroom, slicking their hair back with gel and applying makeup, but I can’t bring myself to care what I look like.

If all goes well, I’ll be in phoenix form, soaring peacefully over all obstacles, a few minutes into the course anyway. Since there are no flying shifters, there are currently no rules against sustained flight.

I assume the Powers that Be would have given Diana specific instructions about how to complete the trials in her owl form, but that isn’t happening now, and I wouldn’t have been privy to that information, anyway. Therefore, I can’t be blamed for assuming I can get away with using the feathers the good shifter gods gave me.

My hope is that, by hiding my phoenix until the last minute, I’ll be able to get at least one trial easily under my belt before they make new rules to keep me grounded. Then, I’ll only have two to muscle through with a mixture of cunning, speed, and luck.

And firebolts.

But firebolts probably won’t be that useful in completing a trial. The fire is for anyone stupid enough to f**k with me or any of my Variant friends while we’re on the course.

“Stay strong,” a girl in braids says as we pass in the common room, offering me a fist to bump.

“Stay strong,” I agree, bumping my fist to hers, grateful to be here with these people.

I’ve always identified with the underdogs, but never more than here. These people are some of the best the shifter world has to offer, each with unique skills and abilities wolves and big cats don’t have. Wolves should be rejoicing that they have people with different shapes and powers willing to be their allies, not trying to kick them out of Lost Moon and force them to the fringes of shifter society.

When I’m Zion’s Alpha, I’m going to make sure Variants know my pack is a safe place for them. And I’ll make sure my pack knows there will be hell to pay for acting like Beck and his cronies.

I return to the room and start toward my cracked window with the steaming paper cup, only for Layla to tumble out of bed and race to cut me off. “Okay, okay,” she says, taking the coffee from me like a precious chalice. “I’m up. See? I’m even half dressed.”

“Only because you slept in your jersey. Shorts. Get some. We only have forty-five minutes to get to the dining hall and to the starting line.”

Layla growls around her first sip of coffee. “I also don’t see why we have to wear uniforms pointing out that we’re easy targets. We should all wear the same color. Or go naked. Do they know how many uniforms we’re going to ruin today if we end up having to shift on the fly? Some of us are a lot bigger in our animal form than our human one.”

“I think that’s why they gave us back up jerseys,” I say, sipping my coffee as I watch the moon slide behind the trees outside our window and the horizon begin to glow in the east. “But you’re right. Might be worth swapping colors if you find a spare jersey on the ground on the course. The people who know you’re a Variant might not notice in all the excitement and the people who don’t will just assume you’re a wolf or big cat.”

Layla grunts as she wiggles into her shorts and pulls a sock cap over her fuzzy corkscrew curls. “Devious. I like it. I’ll keep that in my back pocket. Now, let’s go eat. I need protein and pancakes. If I’m getting kicked out today, I’m going with maple syrup in my belly.”

We hit the dining hall, load up our trays, and take them to the Variant corner of the room. For once, I’m glad we’re stuck by the trash and the dishwashing station. The sound of dishes clanging helps cover the cheery laughter from the wolf side of the room.

“Heartless,” Catherine hisses as she swings by our table. “I’m so glad I had no idea wolves could be like that before I came here. My father and brother and the men in my pack are worth twenty of every one of them. Bunch of horse pee holes.”

I arch a brow at the choice of words.

She sighs and bobs a shoulder. “It’s an insult from back home. Makes more sense in my first language.” She bends, kissing Layla on each cheek, and then doing the same to me. “Wishing you good luck, ladies. Remember, you might not be as big or strong as some of these people, but you’re smart and quick on your feet and you’re going to come through just fine. I’ll be waiting at the finish line with ice water and cupcakes.”

Layla and I thank her, and she heads off to pump up the rest of our dorm. I try to finish the rest of my egg sandwich, but find I’ve lost my appetite. A glance at Layla’s plate reveals the same for my roomie.

“I can’t eat anymore,” Layla says. “It was the wishing us good luck part. It made it real. We’re really about to start the first trial. This is actually happening.”

“It is,” I say, rising to take my tray to the window. “So, let’s head down early and get a place in the front.”

As we leave the dining hall, I do a discreet scan of the space, looking for Ford, but he isn’t here yet. Or he’s already been and gone. As a former athlete, Ford has all kinds of weird rituals around food and exercise. He likes to time his meals a certain distance from any physical exertion and balance his proteins and carbs.

Which is probably smart. I don’t normally have a delicate stomach, but as we reach the gathering place for the first trial, the half sandwich I managed to get down tries to come back up again. I swallow hard and close my eyes for a beat, willing my food to stay inside me where it can give me fuel, before opening them again and scanning the still sparsely populated corner of the lawn.

“No clues,” Layla mutters as we find a spot to hang out near the small stage set up by the starting line. “I was hoping we might be able to see part of an obstacle course or something.”

“They pride themselves on keeping everything top secret until the last minute,” I say, before adding beneath my breath, “Ford says not even the wolves know exactly what’s happening, only that it will be geared to make it easy for them to get through and harder for Variants.”

“You think they’re still going to try to take us out?” Layla murmurs, keeping her voice down as a group of big cat girls with oversized red bows in their ponytails settles on the grass nearby. “After what happened to Diana and the increased teacher presence in the dorms?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Seems pretty stupid to go through with it now, but a lot of them are stupid.”

I look for Ford on the lawn, but I still don’t see any sign of him. I probably shouldn’t be worried—he’s still in tight with the wolves and is a big boy who can take care of himself—but I can’t help it. The short time I thought Diana had died has only made me more protective of the people I consider mine.

So, I close my eyes and tap into that part of me that glows whenever Ford touches me, the part that’s drawn to him like a compass needle to due North. After only a beat, I get a read on his general location.

He’s still in the dorm and he’s stressed about something.

I curse as my eyes fly open. “I should have brought my cell phone.”

“No phones allowed on the course,” Layla says, sharpening her gaze as she asks, “Why?”

“I think Ford’s in some kind of trouble. Not big trouble, just…something isn’t right. Maybe I should run over to Lupine and check on him.”

“And be roughed up by some wolf a*****e before you even get on the course?” Layla snorts. “No way. Ford wouldn’t want me to let you do that. He’ll be here. Maybe he just overslept or something.” She exhales, shaking her hands and feet to loosen up. “We’re still not talking about how you know this kind of stuff, right? Still in denial that he’s the boo for you?”

“Mostly.” I’m not sure when something more than friends with Ford started feeling like a real possibility, but I’m not going to worry about it or fight my feelings right now. I’m saving all my energy for the trial.

The trial that Ford is going to miss if he doesn’t get here soon…

The lawn around the stage and starting line continues to fill with students and faculty, but there’s still no sign of Ford and the stressed out feeling coming from him gets worse. I’m about to excuse myself to the bathroom and run to check on Ford instead when I suddenly catch sight of him jogging down the hill from Lupine.

He looks okay—gorgeous, actually, in a blue Lupine jersey that makes his gray eyes look almost silver—but his vibes are still off. Something happened with him this morning, but I have no way of asking what it was until the trial is over.

I try to catch his attention, just for a second, hoping I can read more in his eyes than his guarded expression, but he doesn’t look my way. He’s sticking to the script and ignoring me completely in public.

That should give me comfort, I guess, but it doesn’t.

In fact, that “something’s wrong” feeling gets even snarlier as the director of Student Life climbs onstage to speak to the assembly. “Good morning, everyone,” he says, pushing his glasses up his narrow nose. “First of all, I have a message from President Benoit. She’s so sorry she can’t be here this morning to applaud you for pushing through with the trial, in spite of your grief over your recent loss. She’s proud of all of you and can’t wait to celebrate with the new members of the student body when she returns.”

He clears his throat, forcing a brighter note into his tone as he adds, “But now, I’m sure you’re all ready to hear what you’ll be doing today. So, without further ado, here’s Natalie Manger to open the board’s envelope for Trial Number One.”

Natalie steps forward from the line of teachers and administrators at the back of the stage, accepting the microphone with a smile. “Thank you, George.” She slides a finger under the flap of the envelope in her hand. “And thank you to all of the amazing future students gathered here today. You are all brave, bold, and fully capable of triumphing against any obstacle. Remember that as you get started today. Your mindset is every bit as important as your physical prowess. Believe in yourself and good things will follow.”

“Yeah, yeah, read the trial already,” Layla mumbles, echoing my thoughts.

I have more patience for Natalie’s feel-good routine than I used to, but we’re dying out here. The curiosity feels like a heavy rag held over my mouth and nose, making it hard to breathe.

She slides a piece of cardstock from the envelope, hesitating only a fraction of a second before she reads, “Today’s Trial will be the Shore to Seawall Challenge. You’ll cross the water to the seawall in your shifter form and complete the obstacle course from the seawall to the top of cliffs in your human form. Anyone deviating from this mandate will be disqualified and removed from campus before sundown tonight. You may now follow your counselors down to the beach.”

Natalie’s haunted gaze finds mine in the crowd, and I can instantly see how sorry she is.

And how hopeless.

She isn’t even going to try to advocate for me with the board or the other teachers. Not because she doesn’t care, but because she knows it’s a lost cause. Once the trial is set, there is no negotiation or modification possible. A student has to follow the rules and sink or swim on their own.

I lift my chin, embracing the rush of rage mixed with pleasure that comes from knowing Beck hates me so much that he pulled strings with his daddy to get me kicked out before the competition even starts. That has to be at least part of this since I’m the only shifter without an animal form…as far as they know.

Isn’t he going to be surprised?

They all will.

The thought sends a sweet, coppery taste rushing through my mouth. I only realize it’s from my teeth digging into my own skin when Layla whispers, “Stop biting yourself, woman. You have b***d on your l*p.”

I suck my lips in, licking away the b***d, and working to keep my expression as impassive as possible as we start after Catherine and the other counselors. I can feel Natalie’s gaze on me, silently wondering what the hell I’m doing, but I don’t look her way.

I keep my head held high and my gaze fixed on the golden glow in the sky.

In just a few minutes, I’ll be glowing, too, and flying straight into the sun as it rises. As we’re arranged in three lines on the beach—first wave, second wave, and third—I close my eyes and lift my chin, soaking in the warm rays. I let the sea spray on my skin and the salty kelp scent in my nose remind me of my best girlhood days, running free on our island, knowing in my bones I was in harmony with nature in all its wild beauty.

I tune in to the easy flow of my breath and let the tension melt from my muscles.

By the time the buzzer sounds, signaling it’s time for the first wave, including Ford, to head for the water, I’m already starting to glow. I watch him shift and race to the sea with complete confidence that he’s got this, a faith that’s confirmed as he quickly pulls ahead of every other shifter in the water, including Beck, who’s been bragging since we got here about the swimming scholarship he could have scored if he’d gone to a human school.

As if we all couldn’t beat a human at sports almost any day of the week. Even I can swim faster than a human and I was locked in a cage for most of the past two years.

But I’m not going to dwell on that now. Now, I’m all happy thoughts and peace and getting ready to melt into my fancy new feathers.

Layla grabs my hand, giving it a tight squeeze, that I return, silently assuring her that we’ve got this.

And then the signal comes for the second wave, and I sparkle into the air.

That’s what it feels like, like dissolving into fizzy glitter and coming back together as magic. It’s magic to pump my wings and soar into the air as easily as walking up a hill, a magic I can feel rippling through the crowd still on shore below as they gasp and point my way.

I can only hear them for a few seconds, however. Soon, I’m too far from shore to hear anything but the crash of the waves on the cliffs to my left and the softer splashes from the swimmers below. I glance down, spotting Ford still at the front of the pack as I soar over his location, but Beck is closing in quick.

Too quick.

I hesitate, then take a loop in the sky, backtracking so I can get a better look. When my focus returns to Ford, Beck is nearly on top of him. I part my beak to screech out a warning, but at that moment, Beck latches onto the back of Ford’s neck with his teeth.

A beat later, both wolves go under.

I scream a warning into the sky and swoop closer to the waves, flying in desperate circles as I search the surface of the water. But I can’t see them, can’t see anything but the whitecaps on the increasingly choppy ocean and more of the first wave wolves catching up and passing the place where Beck and Ford disappeared.

I screech again and blow fire into the sky, not knowing what else to do.

My Ford-dar doesn’t seem to work when I’m this scared. Or maybe it doesn’t work in my phoenix form. I haven’t had enough experience in it to know for sure, but I do know that diving in to save him when I have no clue where he is would be a losing game. For both of us.

No sooner has the thought passed through my head than a wolf breaks the surface. My heart leaps into my throat, but it’s a dark brown wolf that shakes himself briefly before swimming toward the seawall, not Ford’s silver-and-white one.

It’s Beck, and I want to kill him. I’m going to kill him if he’s killed Ford.

But I have to try to save Ford first.

Thanks to the b***d pooling in the water beneath where Beck just emerged, I at least know where to start looking.

Pulling in a breath I press my wings to my body and plummet from the sky, plunging into the cold water with an audible hiss as my feathers slice into the sea.

Hold on, Ford. I’m coming.

Ford and Juliet’s story… Continues on the Book Savage Prince