
The Fat Human both Alphas wanted
Chapter 4
VANESSA
"Come here," he said again, like I hadn't heard him the first time.
I didn't move. My roommate had gone stiff beside the door, one hand pressed over her mouth. Dariel's eyes never left mine, not even when she said something to him, a greeting, a question, I couldn't tell. He just stood there, tall enough to fill the doorway, waiting.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," I said, surprised at how steady my voice came out when the rest of me was shaking.
"That wasn't a request." He stepped inside without being invited, and the room, which had felt spacious a minute ago, suddenly felt very small.
"What are you doing in my dorm?" I asked, backing away from him like he might bite, though I was starting to understand that wasn't a figure of speech around here.
He didn't look at my roommate . "This won't take long."
He crossed the room in three strides, and I made the mistake of not backing away fast enough. He stopped close, closer than strangers had any business standing, and lowered his voice so only I could hear it.
"Tell me what you saw that night."
My throat went tight. "I already told the police. I saw nothing."
"I'm not the police." His eyes searched my face like he could read the truth off it if he looked hard enough. "Tell me what you actually saw."
I said nothing. I pressed my lips together and stared at a point somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to give him anything, because the moment I opened my mouth I wasn't sure what would come out, the truth, a lie, or just the sound of how scared I was.
"You're not going to talk," he said, more to himself than to me.
I still said nothing.
He studied me a long moment, jaw tight, then asked, "What's your pack?"
"My what?"
"Your pack. Who do you belong to?"
I opened my mouth and closed it again, because I had no idea what the right answer was, and every wrong one felt like it might get me killed. I said nothing to that either.
The burn in his eyes shifted. "Feral," he said, quiet, almost to himself, like a diagnosis he'd just confirmed.
"Excuse me?"
"It's what they call wolves without a pack. No name to give because there's no one to claim you." He said it without cruelty, which somehow made it worse. "That's why you won't answer. You can't."
I didn't correct him. Let him believe what he wanted. It was safer than the truth.
He straightened, some decision settling into his shoulders. "Rugby team has practice tomorrow after class. You'll be there."
"I don't play rugby."
"You'll watch." He was already moving toward the door, like the conversation had ended the moment he decided it had. "Be there."
Then he was gone, footsteps fading down the corridor, leaving me standing in the middle of the room with my heart still slamming against my ribs.
My roommate stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "How do you know Alpha Dariel?"
"I don't," I said, which felt like the safest lie I'd told all day.
*****
I almost didn't go.
I stood outside my dorm for a full five minutes the next afternoon, backpack straps digging into my shoulders, trying to talk myself out of it.
But Dariel hadn't phrased it like an invitation, and something told me ignoring him would cost more than showing up.
The rugby field sat at the far edge of campus, ringed by bleachers already half full of students in matching green and gold.
I found a spot near the end of the bottom row and tried to make myself small, which, given my size, had never once actually worked, but old habits die slow.
The team jogged out in twos and threes, and even from a distance I recognized him immediately, Dariel, moving through the group like the ground belonged to him.
A few paces behind, favoring one leg slightly, was Damon. I hadn't expected to see him here, and something in my chest did an unhelpful little flip at the sight of him.
"Why are you here?”‘she snapped.
I turned. A girl dropped onto the bleacher beside me, pom-poms tucked under one arm, hair pulled into a high, glossy ponytail. It took me a second to place her.
"Catherine?"
"Didn't peg you for being a rugby fan." She said it lightly, but her eyes were doing that same searching thing Dariel's had done the night before, like she was trying to find the seams in me.
"I'm not," I said. "I was told to be here."
"Told." She raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the field, toward Dariel, who hadn't looked our way once but somehow still felt like he was watching. "You do not belong here, stay out of my sight if you’re going to force it.”
I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing, and watched Catherine pull a small mirror from her bag to check her lipstick before the coach's whistle even blew. Cheerleader. Of course she was.
It explained the pom-poms, the ponytail, the way she carried herself like the bleachers were a stage and not just a bleachers.
Down on the field, Damon caught the ball on a low pass and pushed through two defenders like they weren't there, he seemed to have so much control despite his condition.
.
The whole squad erupted, and beside me, Catherine was on her feet clapping before I'd even processed what happened.
I stayed seated, notebook open on my lap, pen uncapped, though I hadn't written a single word.
Dariel's eyes finally found mine across the field, just for a second, just long enough to make sure I'd noticed him noticing. Then he turned back to the drill, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Whatever this was, whatever he thought I was hiding, I had the sinking feeling that showing up today hadn't made me any less of a target.
“Hey Ferral.. how’s your day coming along” A loud male vibe called from behind me .
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