Fuck!!!! I'm Having The Alpha Princess's Baby.

The bus stopped out of nowhere. I mean, completely out of the blue. We were just moving along, and then suddenly, we weren’t. When the driver finally climbed out and checked the wheels, he said the tires were the main problem. All of them were busted. Every single one.

I was positive it was still supposed to be daytime, but the sky didn’t care about the clock. It had turned cloudy and dark in a matter of minutes. The air felt heavy, like it was pressing down on us.

"Looks like it’s going to rain really hard," someone muttered from the back.

Pretty much everyone had piled out of the bus to see what the hold-up was, but Princess was still sitting inside. She was in the exact same spot she had been in since we left, her head down, probably still staring at that screen. It was like she was in another dimension where the bus was still moving and the sun was still shining.

"Coach, the game starts soon. What happens if we don’t get to the arena on time? You need to call and send another bus as soon as possible," Peamah said. He was pacing back and forth on the asphalt, his hands balled into fists.

"I just called someone over there, Peamah. It’s the same weird weather everywhere. It’s a total mess. If it doesn’t clear up in the next hour, I’m afraid the game will be cancelled for this year," the coach replied, looking at his phone with a frown.

"That is not going to happen. I’ve been working all year for this specific day. A fucking climate change cannot just ruin my entire season," Peamah snapped. He was clearly pissed, his face turning a dark shade of red. He spun around and stormed over to the driver.

"How long is it actually going to take you to change these tires?" he barked, getting right in the man’s face.

"All the tires need to be changed, kid. And I only have two spare tires on the rack. We have to sit here and wait for a mechanic to bring more," the driver said, backing away slowly.

"If you don’t get this bus running in two minutes, I will rip you apart and feed you to the vultures," Peamah threatened. The poor driver looked absolutely terrified. I felt bad for him because how the fuck was he supposed to magically find four extra tires in the middle of a highway during a storm?

"Yo man, calm down for a second. It’s not his fault the tires blew," one of Peamah’s teammates said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Was I talking to you?" Peamah snapped. He turned on the guy in a split second and grabbed him, lifting him off the ground by his collar. "Who gave you permission to speak? Do you want to be the spare tire instead?"

The boy froze, his feet dangling off the ground, looking like he was about to pass out from fear.

"Put him down, Peamah. You’ve been acting strange lately, even for you," another voice said. It was the co-captain, Nathaniel. He was one of the few guys who actually had the guts to stand up to Peamah.

Nathaniel tried to step in and pull them apart, but Peamah was way too fast. He let go of the first guy’s collar with one hand just long enough to punch Nathaniel. It was a hard, heavy hit that landed right in the center of his chest. The force of it sent Nathaniel flying back several feet until he hit the dirt.

The coach started blowing his whistle like crazy, shouting for Peamah to stop and get a grip, but it wasn’t working. Peamah’s eyes were now glowing a bright, sickly green. He looked like he was losing control.

I don’t know what came over me in that moment. I looked back at the bus and saw Princess through the window. She was still sitting there, totally calm, like she didn’t even notice the violent chaos happening right outside the door.

I hated what I was seeing. I hated seeing Peamah using all that strength on people who were obviously weaker than him. He was ignoring everyone, ready to actually rip that boy apart over a flat tire that wasn’t his fault.

"Peamah, put the boy down right now."

I didn’t even raise my voice. I didn’t scream or yell. I just said it firmly.

The moment the words left my mouth, his grip loosened. He dropped the boy onto the pavement like he was a sack of potatoes. Just like that. There was no argument. No hesitation. He didn’t even look at me. He simply turned around, walked back onto the bus, and sat down in his seat.

Everyone in the clearing stayed silent, staring at me like I was some kind of freak. Even I was shocked at how easily he had listened.

"How did you even do that?" the coach asked, his whistle still hanging from his mouth.

"I... I don’t know," I muttered, looking down at my hands.

The sky stayed dark and the wind started picking up, but there was still no solution for the bus.

Finally, Princess came down the steps. She wasn’t holding her tablet this time, and she looked around at the scene like she was just waking up from a nap.

She asked the coach what was going on. He explained the situation with the tires, and the driver chimed in to say a massive storm was rolling in. He told us we shouldn’t expect to move anytime soon.

Princess didn’t panic. She immediately turned to Malo and told him to find the nearest hotel so we wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road in the rain. Malo got to work right away, scrolling through his phone for a place that could take a whole team.

Then Princess bumped into me with a small smile on her face. I didn’t smile back. I just turned and walked away toward the front of the bus, acting like I didn’t care if she was there or not.

But she followed me. Now she wants to bug me huh..

"What’s wrong with you? Are you avoiding me or something?" she asked, catching up to me.

I turned to her and gave a short, fake laugh.

"I’m not avoiding you, Princess. I’m just standing here admiring how lovely this bus is," I said. I bent down and stared at the front tire instead of looking at her face.

"You’re definitely avoiding me. I can feel it. And how exactly is that tire lovely? It’s all moody and scratched up," she said, crouching down right beside me.

She leaned in close, her scent filling my head again. "Look at this tire, and then look at my face. Which one is more lovely? Which one would you rather kiss right now?" she asked, comparing herself to the black rubber.

Obviously you.

Fuck. No. That thought shouldn’t even be in my head. I should pick the tire. I definitely should pick the tire.

I looked at her for a second, then looked back at the tire to avoid her eyes. That’s when I actually noticed something I hadn’t seen before. There were deep scratch marks in the rubber.

I ran my fingers along the side of the tire, following the lines until they stopped right at a jagged puncture. Then I moved to the next wheel and checked that one too. It was the same thing.

These weren’t just blowouts from old age or hitting a nail. These were intentional. Someone had done this on purpose. But who?