Rejected by the Beta, Claimed by the Alpha

Chapter 144: Shaken Up Roomie

Clark POV:

What was it with these upperclassmen and their habit of staring like they wanted to eat me or recruit me into a cult?

I stepped back. Just once. Enough to put a breath of space between us.

"Which way to West Hall?" I asked, pointing down the twin hallways like a kid asking which door leads to safety and which to the trap.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he took a slow step forward, his shoes silent on the stone floor.

Then another.

Then he was close—closer than comfortable.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he leaned down slightly, face inches from mine.

"Whichever way you walk..." he murmured, "you’ll still end up where the house wants you to go."

I blinked. "The house?"

He looked around, his expression shifting from mild amusement to something almost reverent. "Memoville. The school. This place... it listens. It chooses. You don’t find a room here. A room finds you."

Okay. That was enough.

The guy was clearly high or one of those creepy drama club types who never broke character.

I gave him a tight smile and started to edge around him. "Cool story, man. Appreciate the ominous vibes."

He didn’t stop me, but he did whisper one last thing as I passed:

"Try not to bleed, little lamb. They can smell it."

My feet froze for half a second before I forced myself to walk.

Walk.

Do not run.

You never run when the predator is still watching.

I picked the right hallway—at least, I think I did. The walls started to have signs again, and after what felt like an hour, I found a wooden door with West Hall Dormitory scrawled above it in gothic lettering.

304. That

I reached into my pocket for the keycard, I couldn’t help but look

Nothing. Just the hallway.

No rush of

Just silence.

room without another incident, but something about the lock felt... strange. When I swiped the keycard, the red light blinked, then green. The click of the lock echoed louder

was clean, untouched. But one bed was already made up.

roommate had already

the looks of the bed...

Creepy.

mattress, sat down, and let out a

going

perfect people who don’t blink, to students with glowing

me "little lamb" like he’s auditioning for a villain role in

all too

needed to talk to Sara. I needed

Clare, even if she’d mock

to make sure whatever I’d hacked into... hadn’t landed

toward

the sun

turning

Like a warning.

Like blood in water.

I could

*********

the massive influx of students, the registration was still ongoing. They’d postponed the orientation until tomorrow morning, after everyone was registered and placed properly in the system. Great. More time to unpack, I

and turning to finish making it. I arranged the pillows meticulously, trying to focus on something mundane, but my mind kept wandering. I should have been used to these kinds of spaces by now. New rooms, new faces,

folding my shirts into the drawer, I heard it—a sharp knock at the door, followed by frantic,

up, man! Open up...! Oh God—OH

a beat. Without thinking, I rushed to unlock the door. My fingers fumbled, my pulse picking up with the urgency in

him with a force

small—slightly shorter than me—and... too pretty for a guy. His features were delicate, almost feminine. He looked like someone who belonged on a runway, not in a dorm room. His pale skin shimmered under the fluorescent

delicate features or the sense that he didn’t quite fit in here. It was the way his body shook, trembled with

as he stumbled across the room—one on his shirt collar, the other just beneath his shoulder. It was fresh blood. Dark. How had he gotten blood on him in the

trouble? Was he

he didn’t give me the chance. Without a word, he crawled onto the made-up bed across from mine, his body curling into itself. He looked like a child, hiding from the monster under the

the hell had

to do. Should I help him? Call someone?

asked, my voice quieter than I