Rise of the Alpha
Prologue

Magnolia

Today is the day. The day I get the freedom I’ve wanted for so long. I already shipped a box of my larger items last week, which included all my school supplies, comforter, toiletries, and some clothing, to the school. The notification came yesterday that it had been delivered and placed in my room, ready for when I arrive. When I saw the school offered such a service, I booked that shit immediately. Surprisingly, even my father thought it was a good idea and paid for the shipping. Since I’m flying to New York, I don’t want to have to take more than my two suitcases and a carry-on bag with me.

Jumping out of bed, I quickly dress and pick up my luggage before bounding down the staircase to the living room. Sitting everything by the door before heading to the kitchen for some breakfast. I should’ve known my mother would be here, preparing her last meal for me before I leave. She is busily placing food on my plate while I take a seat at the table.

Taking a moment, I sit and gaze at her. She’s always said how she wanted nothing more than to be a wife and mother. She seems to love the way of the pack and her role in it. I often wish I could feel the same way, but I don’t. Sometimes I wonder if she suffers from Stockholm syndrome after years of being forced to behave a certain way. I want the feeling of belonging but being equal like the stories I’ve read in secret about the other packs in the world. I know I will never find it here as much as I long to, it’s why I want to see the world and what is out there. For as long as I can remember, it’s always been the three of us. A month before I was born, a rogue Dire wolf killed my mother’s other two mates, and as a slap in our face, the Stoneridge Pack offered him asylum. When she heard I was going to a school where I could be exposed to others from that pack, she feared something would happen to me.

“Good morning, Momma. I’m really gonna miss this when I’m gone. There’s no way the cafeteria at the college has anything on your cooking.” It’s honestly one of the two things I’ll miss, her and her food.

“I’m going to miss you so much, baby.” She quickly turns and heads back to the sink, busying herself with the dishes, but I can hear her muffled sobs. She had slipped a note into my room last night, leaving it on my desk for me. She encouraged me to do as my father and the Alpha wish. She is terrified of what could happen to me if I were to step out of line, even though she wishes for me to run as far from this pack as I can. I knew if my father ever saw the words she wrote he’d kill her, so I ripped it up, then burned the small pieces.

I rush through eating, struggling with the emotions I’m feeling, hearing her cry. Wanting to be here for her and also to get the f**k out of here as fast as I can. Thankfully, the second option wins out as I hear my dad descending the stairs.

“Magnolia, are you ready? We need to head to the airport,” he calls out as I hear his feet hit the last step, before walking across the room to the desk, where I hear shuffling papers.

“Yeah, Dad. I’ll be right there.” Standing, I pick my plate up, take a few steps over to the sink, and set it on the counter before facing Mom and wrapping my arms around her. I squeeze her tightly, inhaling her scent, memorizing it to comfort me while I’m gone.

“Call me when you get there,” she whispers, shifting her stance as she returns to washing the dishes. Releasing my hold on her, I step back before hurriedly turning and rushing to the living room, ready to begin my journey.

My father’s already headed out the door, leaving all my suitcases and carry-on bag for me to take to the car myself. Shrugging my shoulders, I make my way over and begin to strategically place my bags on top of each other, so I can have the straps all together and lug them out the door. Oh, look, my dad did help, he popped the f*****g trunk. A*****e.

Quiet tension fills the ride to the airport. I keep having a nagging feeling in my gut that my freedom is about to be ripped away from me before I even have a chance to taste it. Instead of taking the airport exit for the parking garage, my father pulls up to the drop-off lane, comes to a stop, and places the car in park. He sits there for a moment, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel.

He turns to look at me but only for a brief moment before turning his head to gaze aimlessly out the car window. “You are to carry yourself in a manner befitting a member of the Exodus Pack. No dating or fraternizing with any other packs. You are to remember ours is superior. You have a chance to be mated to the next Alpha and his Betas. Do not, under any condition, embarrass our family. I will send you the information for your plane ticket for your weekend visit. Now go before you miss your flight,” he says coldly, not once looking back at me.

Opening the door, I step out, placing my feet on the pavement that will lead me to my temporary freedom. Hearing him pop the trunk, I head to the rear of the car and pull out my bags. I’ve barely closed it before he’s pulling away, back into the flow of traffic. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself I’m so close to being out of this town and once again, fight with my bags as I head inside and beeline straight to the ticket counter.

The flight was smooth, minus the twenty minutes mid-flight where we hit a hefty amount of turbulence. A wave of motion sickness hit a few people, and thank f**k I wasn’t one of the poor unfortunate souls seated by them.

The pilot taxis into our terminal, and we all eagerly await to disembark the plane. Thankfully, the wait isn’t too long, and ten minutes later, I’m standing, reaching up, and grasping the handle of my bag. As I try to pull it from the overhead compartment, I smell the most delicious scent. An Alpha Wolf, from the amount of power that’s emitting from whoever it is. Looking around, I try to search for the source of the scent, but with the cluster of people pushing their way forward, eager to exit the plane, I can’t find the wolf. But god, the scent is intoxicating, sending a wave of arousal straight to my center.

Pulling myself together, I get my bag down, apologize to the people behind me for holding them up, and head to the plane’s exit. I opt to wait for some of the people to clear out from around the baggage claim area before heading over and collecting my bags, making sure to secure a luggage cart before heading out to hail a cab. Luck is with me today, and there is a line of three waiting outside. I head for the first one in line and give him the address to the dorm I’m staying in. Thankfully, he loads the bags in the trunk for me, so I climb into the backseat. I pull out my phone, sending a text to Mom to let her know I arrived, and that I’m still in one piece.

Riding through the city, I gawk out the window, broadcasting to everyone that I’m a tourist. But I don’t even care, this town is gorgeous. The buildings look like some you would find in a gothic-themed movie, and I’m living for it. I keep noticing the driver glancing up into the rearview mirror, staring intently at me and following my every move.

“First time here?” he asks, his voice raspy, like someone who’s smoked cigarettes since he was a child.

“Yeah, freshman year.”

“Well, we’re about to pull onto campus. You’ll want to be sure to catch a glimpse of the statues at the gate,” he tells me, which piques my interest.

I look up just in time to see the large wrought iron gate that’s currently wide open with two large a*s gargoyle statues, sitting on either side of the fence. All I can imagine is them coming to life at night, and just by chance, getting to catch a peek of them shifting. I plan to visit the gates every night to see if it happens. I mean supernaturals are real, even though humans are oblivious to them, so they could be real gargoyles.

We make several turns going deeper and deeper into campus before finally coming to a stop in front of my dorm; Salvatore Hall. I open the door, stepping out slowly as I scan the area, taking in each and every detail, while the cab driver unloads my luggage.

“You’re all set,” he tells me, as I quickly reach into my purse and pull out a fifty and hand it over to him. “Keep the change and thank you.”

Once again, I load my bags up, so I can lug them inside to the reception desk to sign for my room key. Lucky for me, there’s only one person in line, and they have just finished.

Stepping up to the desk, I see an older woman with graying hair. She has moon-shaped glasses perched low on her nose. The family photo sitting on her desk points to her being an ostrich shifter. She’s sitting in a chair in the middle, surrounded by children and young ostriches. Thanks to the few books on other supernaturals that I was able to get a hold of, I am confident in my deduction and delighted to meet a new kind of shifter.

“Hi, I’m here for my room key, Magnolia Holloway.” She flips through a file folder to her right and pulls out a paper with a key attached to it. She has me sign the paper after showing my ID, proving my identity, then hands me the key and sends me on my way. Before I turn to go, I ask if there is an elevator. She nods and throws her hand out, pointing to the left. Following her finger, I see a little sign marked “elevator”.

Hallelujah!! I don’t have to lug this shit up three flights of stairs. Making my way to the elevator, I stop in front of it and press the up button, waiting for the doors to open before I step inside, dragging my luggage along with me.

Looking over my dorm assignment, I look at my roommate’s information again while the elevator jerks into movement and heads up. Wylla Michaelson. Her name is beautiful, I wonder what she’s like. I really hope she’s nice and not a snob like the bitches in my pack. The elevator comes to an abrupt stop and the door slides open. I move quickly, stepping out of the doors with my bags before they have a chance to close on me.

Eighties music is blaring, and I have to admit, I love the music choice, being a huge fan of it myself. As I make my way down the hallway toward my assigned room, the music gets louder and louder, until I find the source of it coming from the room I’m assigned to. Room 312.

Opening the door, I see a girl with long, colorful hair. She’s standing with her back to me. Some of the most beautiful, intricate artwork covers her skin that’s visible, and I immediately feel relieved. We’re going to be the best of friends.

Almost as if she senses me, she turns, and I’m overwhelmed by her beauty. I’ve always been attracted to females, but I’ve never acted on any of my feelings; it would never be accepted by my father or the pack. But the sight of her has me salivating.