Rejected by the Beta, Claimed by the Alpha

Chapter 146: Run

Clark POV:

"Hey," I whispered, even though I knew he wouldn’t answer. "Whatever happened... I’m not gonna ask again. Just... you’re safe here, alright?"

No response.

I didn’t expect one.

But I thought—maybe, just maybe—I saw the covers shift slightly. A twitch. Like maybe he heard me.

I turned toward him, my whisper barely audible.

"Hey... you never told me your name."

No answer.

A minute passed. Then two.

And then, from beneath the blanket, a soft whisper, hoarse and quiet:

"...Lucas."

I nodded in the dark. "I’m Clark."

A pause. Then another whisper, barely more than a breath.

"We shouldn’t have come here."

A chill ran through me. I pulled my covers higher, heart thudding in my chest.

This place... this wasn’t just about bullies.

It was something else.

Something worse.

And I had no Clare here to fight for me.

Just me.

*********

I don’t know when I finally drifted off. Maybe sometime after midnight. My brain had been spiraling like it always did—overthinking, analyzing, replaying the weirdness of the day on a loop—until it finally just short-circuited. Blackout sleep.

I was deep in it when I heard shuffling.

thump of something soft being

my eyes open, groggy, my head feeling like it

What the hell?

His face was pale in the faint blue

I croaked, rubbing the crust of sleep

my voice like I’d

he said. His voice trembled, but not from tiredness—no, it was something rawer. "I’m going home. I can’t...

state, my brain hadn’t caught up. "What

The trembling, the panic, the silence last night—it all screamed victim of upperclassman hazing. That had to be it. All schools had them. Maybe

accepted into Memoville to run off before orientation, man,"

Lucas looked at me

said, eyes wide. "You think I was

wasn’t a laugh that meant anything good. It was dry. Empty. Like his throat

bullies," he whispered. "At least bullies don’t drink your blood or smile like they’re

I froze.

believe me anyway," he said, crouching and stuffing his hoodie into his bag. "Nobody ever does. That’s why they always get fresh meat. That’s what we are

My heart kicked in my chest a little

are you talking about?" I asked, not sure if I even wanted

stared at me. Not

you? The ones that walk like models, but don’t blink enough? The ones who talk like they’re quoting from a play and move too... perfectly?" He was talking fast now. "Didn’t you feel it? The cold? The eyes? The paleness? The way the damn wind

But that was just nerves. Jet lag. Maybe a little imagination and paranoia

"Lucas, come on—"

Leave. You think I’m crazy? Fine. But if I stay, I die. Or worse." He zipped his suitcase fully, stood up, and walked

me. "I knew something was wrong the moment that woman at registration

My blood chilled.

me too," I admitted before I could

face crumbled. "Then

open. A gust of cold morning air from the

shoulder once, like he was trying to memorize the room in case he didn’t make it

anyone," he said. "Especially the ones who

Then he was gone.

felt like hours,

to be up, but

chamber in my head: They drink blood. They stretch skin over bone. Don’t trust the

registration had said I "smelled delicious." She

had glowing eyes. And that

There’s no such

Right?

me stirred—something primal. Some ancient part of me that lived

And it whispered: