-Julien Grayson:
The morning air is crisp when I step outside, cool enough to wake me up completely.
I pause on the porch for a second, letting the quiet settle around me. The house behind me is still warm with the scent of coffee and the warmth of my family, their low murmur drifting faintly through the open window. For a moment, I almost go back inside just to steal one more hug from Pops or hear Caspian tease me again.
But then I remember where I'm going today.
University.
A grin spreads across my face as I walk down the front steps.
My motorcycle is waiting near the gravel driveway where I left it last night, gleaming under the early sunlight. It's as big as Pops', it was built for riders who aren't six-foot alphas with ridiculous leg length, but that doesn't mean it's slow. Actually, it's the opposite.
This bike is ridiculously fast. It's a pink Yamaha YZF-R7, 689 cc with a parallel-twin engine and horsepower of 74 hp, its top Speed is about 230 km/h (143 mph), and it weighs around 188 kg. (414 Ibs)
It takes control, balance, and a lot of practice to ride properly. Dad made sure of that before he bought it for me. Months of training, drills, and lectures about safety.
Now it purrs the second I touch it.
The bright pink paint practically glows in the morning light.
Hello Kitty stickers decorate the sides of the tank, along with tiny stars and hearts I added myself. Some people might think it looks ridiculous. I think it looks perfect.
My helmet hangs from the handlebars.
Also pink.
Also covered in stickers—Hello Kitty, little cartoon bows, glitter stars. I pick it up and slide it over my head, fastening the strap under my chin before swinging one leg over the bike.
The engine starts with a smooth, powerful rumble.
I grip the handles, rolling my shoulders once as excitement flutters in my chest.
"I'm so ready for today," I murmur to myself.
Everything in my life feels… good lately.
I have the best dads anyone could ask for—each completely different but somehow perfect together. I have my brothers, who treat teasing me like it's their full-time job, but would also tear apart anyone who tried to hurt me.
My life is good.
I know some people look at me and think I'm not fully happy because I don't date.
Technically, I could. I'm not unattractive. I know that. But things get… complicated once guys actually learn what I like.
I'm only interested in male alphas. Which would be fine if my preferences ended there.
But they don't.
Most alphas, if not all, expect me to submit, to be the bottom, obedient, and easy to dominate, especially because of the way I dress. The moment they realize that's not what I want… they usually panic.
Some try to laugh it off. Some get offended because I'm really blessed down there, more blessed than them, may I add. A few just run away and go complain to my brother as if he's gonna help them change or something. I'm still wondering about what their objective was when they did that. What did they think they would achieve by complaining to my brother?
I've thought about dating betas or even other omegas before. They'd probably be more open to the way I am. More willing to explore things without their pride and ego getting in the way.
But the truth is… I want an alpha. That's just what I'm drawn to.
I want someone strong. Someone powerful. Someone who doesn't crumble when I'm too rough, someone you can take anything I throw at him. Someone stronger than me yet chooses to submit to me.
I don't want to settle for something else, and if that means I don't date much or even at all, that's fine. I've never and would never wish to change myself just to make things easier. This is who I am, and this is who I will always be.
If I'm meant to be with someone someday, they'll love me exactly the way I am. And if God decided someone is meant for me, then that person will fit perfectly with everything I want and everything I am.
And I'd love them just the way they are. Protect them. Even if I'm an omega, I'd still do everything I could to keep them safe.
The thought makes me smile behind my helmet. Maybe I got that hopeless romance from Pops and that stubborn confidence from Dad. Papa and Pops love telling stories about what he was like when they first met him. Apparently, he was unbelievably arrogant. Completely sure of himself. Impossible to argue with.
He only softened once he fell in love with them. It's one of my favorite stories. And honestly… I probably did take some of that arrogance. He raised me, after all.
The bike rolls smoothly onto the road as I accelerate, wind rushing past me. The forest lining our territory blurs into green shadows on either side.
For a while, everything feels peaceful. But eventually my thoughts drift to the thing none of us can ignore lately.
The attacks.
Our pack has been hit too many times over the last few months.
Bodies found in the woods.
Guards torn apart.
Patrols disappearing.
And no one knows who's doing it.
All we know is that it's a rogue.
Just one.
At least that's what the few witnesses claim. One rogue is responsible for all that destruction.
Which shouldn't even be possible.
Our pack is strong. Organized. Protected.
But whoever this rogue is… they move like a ghost.
No scent trails. No witnesses who lived long enough to give details. Just blood and silence left behind.
My family has been trying to figure it out for months. The problem is, we're a peaceful pack.
Papa and Pops believe in diplomacy and peace. In alliances. In making friends instead of enemies. And it worked. Packs that used to be rivals are now our allies.
But rogues don't follow those rules.
Rogues don't negotiate.
They don't sit down for peace talks.
That's why they're rogues in the first place; they're savages who don't want to follow basic rules.
And that's exactly why my dads were so hesitant about letting me go to university alone. Yesterday, they kept insisting on driving me. Or sending guards. Or at least following behind me.
I refused every option.
I'm nineteen years old. Almost twenty. I'm an adult, not a kid who needs to be escorted everywhere like I'm under military protection.
And I'm definitely not going to pause my life because some mysterious rogue is causing trouble in our territory.
The road from our house to the university is safe. It runs through the center of the pack lands where patrols pass constantly.
If we start living in fear of every possible danger, then we're not really living at all.
The university appears gradually as the road widens.
Large buildings rise above wide green lawns, their stone walls glowing softly in the morning sun. Students move everywhere—walking in groups, carrying coffee cups, laughing, rushing toward classes.
I slow the bike and pull into the parking area, guiding it carefully into a space. The engine shuts off with a soft click.
For a moment, I just sit there, looking around.
The campus is huge.
Multiple buildings spread across the grounds, connected by tree-lined walkways and open courtyards. Sculptures decorate the lawns. Tall glass windows reflect the sky.
It's beautiful.
And it's exactly where I want to be.
I swing off the bike and pull off my helmet, shaking my blonde hair loose. A few students glance over, probably because of the pink motorcycle and the Hello Kitty stickers.
I don't mind.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and look up at the tall building ahead of me.
The art department.
Paintings. Sculpture. Design. Illustration.
Everything I love.
My first day at university.
A slow smile spreads across my face as excitement bubbles in my chest again.
Yeah.
Today is going to be a really good day.