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Living With My Bully Alpha Novel Cover

Living With My Bully Alpha

At Blackthorne Academy, reputation is everything: the powerful rule, the weak survive quietly, and once you're a target, everyone joins the hunt. Scholarship student Lyra Voss learned that lesson when Kaiden Draven's silent presence turned her into the center of humiliation. Months later, drowning in debt and caring for her sick mother, Lyra accepts a live-in position at Blackthorne Palace—the home of the Alpha heir who helped ruin her life. Under the same roof, Kaiden's assumptions about her crumble, and her indifference unsettles him more than hatred ever could. As secrets about their families resurface, he must choose between the reputation he was raised to protect and the girl he was taught to despise.
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Chapter 2

Chapter 2 — Stay Away From Me

LYRA POV

By lunch, my name had traveled further than I had in two years at this school.

I felt it the second I stepped into the hallway between classes, the way conversations dipped and eyes cut sideways, the particular quality of attention that came from being talked about rather than talked to. Whispers followed me down the corridor like a smell I couldn't wash off.

*That's her. The Voss girl. Did you hear what happened with Kaiden? I heard her father betrayed the Dravens. No way. She shouldn't even be here.*

I kept my chin level and my pace even, even though every word landed somewhere soft and unprotected in my chest. I'd spent two years learning how to make myself smaller in rooms that didn't want me in them. I hadn't expected to need that skill quite this badly on a random Tuesday.

The cafeteria was worse. I felt the shift the moment I walked in, conversations lowering just enough to be obvious, heads tilting toward me and away again in that deliberate, performative way that made sure I knew I was being discussed. I scanned the room for anywhere safe to sit and found exactly one open seat, tucked in the back corner, half-hidden behind a support column.

I'd barely set my tray down before someone dropped into the chair across from me.

"You're either very brave or genuinely not paying attention," the guy said, and I looked up to find dark hair falling loosely over sharp, assessing features. Unlike Kaiden's cold stillness, this boy's presence felt calmer, quieter, like he'd already worked out exactly how the room functioned and simply chose not to perform it. I recognized him from the doorway that morning...one of the two who'd walked in beside Kaiden.

"I'm eating lunch," I said carefully. "Not starting anything."

"Bad timing for that particular plan." His mouth curved, though it didn't quite commit to a smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't get the chance to answer. The cafeteria's noise dropped by half before I even understood why, that same electric shift from this morning's classroom rippling outward as Kaiden crossed the room with two friends trailing behind, expression as unreadable as it had been three hours ago.

His eyes found me immediately. Then hardened when they landed on the boy across from me.

"There it is," the boy across from me muttered, sounding more resigned than afraid.

Kaiden stopped at our table like he owned the ground beneath it, which, for all I knew, he might have. "Move," he said, looking at the boy and not at me.

"I was here first," the boy said, leaning back in his chair with an ease that felt almost like a dare.

"I don't care."

I gripped my fork tighter than necessary. "I can leave, if this is some kind of territorial thing."

Kaiden's gaze snapped to me so fast I regretted speaking immediately. "You don't get to talk like we're equals."

The words landed harder than they should have, not because of what he'd said, but because of how naturally he'd said it, like the room already agreed with him before he'd finished the sentence. A few nearby students laughed under their breath. Heat crawled up my throat, thick and humiliating.

"What exactly did I do to you?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, sharper than I meant, louder than I intended.

The cafeteria went completely silent.

Kaiden stared at me for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes that felt darker than simple irritation, something I didn't have a name for yet.

"You exist," he said finally.

The words hit like a slap. I felt every stare in the room press against my skin at once, every whisper I'd endured all day suddenly unbearable, all of it converging into a single moment I desperately wanted to disappear from. I pushed my tray away and stood before anyone could watch my face crumble.

"Enjoy your lunch," I muttered, and walked away as fast as dignity allowed.

The whispers followed immediately. Of course they did.

*************

I found the stairwell by the east wing, the one that never got much traffic between periods, and let the door fall shut behind me. The silence there felt colder than the cafeteria's noise, but at least it was mine. I leaned against the wall and pressed my palms flat against the cool concrete, willing my breathing to slow, willing the heat behind my eyes to stay where it was instead of spilling over.

"You're terrible at hiding when you're upset."

My eyes flew open. Kaiden stood near the stairwell entrance, arms crossed, like he had every right to be there and every intention of staying. I hadn't even heard the door.

"Are you following me now?" My voice came out harder than I felt.

"I wanted to make something clear."

I let out a short laugh, more disbelief than humor. "You've already made it pretty clear that you hate me."

Something unreadable flickered across his face before disappearing just as fast. "You need to stay away from me," he said.

The seriousness underneath it caught me off guard. "You're the one who keeps approaching me."

"Then stop making me notice you."

"You think I *want* your attention?"

He took a step closer, and the stairwell suddenly felt much smaller than it had a moment ago. Up close, he was even more overwhelming...sharp jaw, restrained aggression coiled just beneath the surface of every movement. But that wasn't the strangest part. The strangest part was the way he kept looking at me like he was trying to solve something that frustrated him more with every passing second.

His jaw tightened. Then, for one brief moment, something shifted in his expression, confusion, unmistakable and quickly buried.

"You smell wrong," he said, quiet and clearly irritated with himself for saying it at all.

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He didn't answer. His eyes had already dropped to my mouth, just for a second, just long enough that I felt it everywhere, and the air between us thickened into something I didn't have language for. Then he stepped back like he'd caught himself doing something dangerous.

"Stay away from me, Voss," he said again, colder this time, and walked out without another word.

I stood there long after the door swung shut behind him, heart pounding for reasons I refused to examine too closely, furious at him and furious at myself in equal measure for the fact that I still couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd looked at my mouth like it had personally offended him.

*******

By the time I got home that evening, the sky had gone the color of a fresh bruise, and my legs ached from the walk between the bus stop and our apartment building because the elevator had been broken for three weeks running.

My mother was awake when I let myself in, propped against the couch cushions with a blanket over her knees, the television on low. She looked up and smiled the way she always did, like my walking through the door was the best part of her day even when it clearly hadn't been an easy one.

"Rough day?" she asked.

I sat down beside her and let my head fall against her shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of her — lavender lotion and the faint hospital antiseptic that never fully washed out of anything she owned anymore.

"You could say that," I said.

I didn't tell her about Kaiden Draven. I didn't tell her about the whispers, or the name that had followed me down every hallway, or the way an entire cafeteria had gone silent because of two words. Some days, protecting her meant giving her less of the truth, not more.

She wrapped her arm around me anyway, like she already knew there was something I wasn't saying.

"It'll get better," she said softly.

I wanted so badly to believe her.

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