My Fated Alpha's Cruel Game

Elena’s POV

Damien and Gage could tell how crucial it was for me to catch up on my studies, so after we finished dinner, Damien settled beside me in the living room and began testing my knowledge on various subjects.

Gage appeared at the bottom of the stairs, freshly showered and dressed in clothes that were definitely too nice for a quiet night at home.

"Player," I muttered, glancing up from my textbook before returning my attention to the pages. Damien’s low chuckle made me smile despite myself.

"You two are terrible," Gage complained, though his grin suggested he wasn’t actually offended.

"You know you love the attention," I shot back, not bothering to look up this time.

"I’ll catch you both in the morning," he said, heading toward the front door.

"How old is Gage anyway?" I asked once he’d left the packhouse.

"Nineteen. Old enough to make his own choices, good or bad," Damien replied with a shrug.

"Speaking of family, where are your parents? I haven’t met them yet," I said, genuinely curious about the people who’d raised him.

"You probably won’t meet them. They live on pack territory but we don’t really interact much. But we’re not here to discuss my complicated family dynamics. We’re here to make sure you’re ready for tomorrow," he said, effectively closing that topic.

"Fair enough," I agreed, though I filed away his response for future consideration.

Damien and I ended up staying awake past midnight, our study session frequently interrupted by random conversations that pulled us off track. But eventually he had to call it a night, and I needed rest too if I was going to function the next day.

I spent every remaining day of the week buried in those textbooks, determined not to embarrass myself when I walked onto that college campus. The material wasn’t impossibly difficult, but there was so much to absorb in such a short time.

By the weekend, however, exhaustion was setting in hard. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

I found myself sleeping until noon both Saturday and Sunday, which was completely unlike me. Usually I was up with the sun, but lately I felt drained and sluggish no matter how much rest I got.

"That’s it. No more studying today. You’re burning yourself out emotionally and that won’t help you when classes start tomorrow," Damien declared when he found me staring blankly at an open textbook Sunday afternoon.

"I know. I’m done for now," I admitted, closing the book with relief.

"Good. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"Not really. I thought I might walk into town, just to clear my head," I said.

"That sounds perfect," he agreed.

"Can I ask you something? When I start making friends at school, am I only allowed to bring people here if they’re from this pack?" The question had been bothering me all week.

"Not at all. You can invite anyone you want, just run it by me first. I’ll need to know which pack they’re from. Some are trustworthy, others definitely aren’t," he explained.

"That makes sense," I said, appreciating his straightforward approach.

I ended up spending a couple hours wandering through the small town, browsing shops and picking up a few small items I didn’t really need. The fresh air and change of scenery helped more than I’d expected.

All week Damien had been trying to give me a credit card so I could buy whatever I wanted, but I kept refusing. I insisted I’d find a job to support myself, though he’d seen my course schedule and doubted I’d have time for employment on top of my studies.

When I returned to the packhouse, I retreated to my room for a while before making my way back downstairs. I poured myself a coffee and settled onto the front porch, letting the afternoon sun warm my face.

I noticed Damien jogging past with several pack warriors, but I was too lost in my own thoughts to pay much attention to their training session. My mind felt scattered, like I was trying to hold onto thoughts that kept slipping away.

Eventually Damien appeared on the porch and sat down beside me, his presence both comforting and slightly overwhelming.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

"I think I need to go back home," I said quietly, the words feeling strange in my mouth.

"What? Why would you say that? You’ve worked incredibly hard to prepare for classes starting tomorrow," he said, confusion clear in his voice.

"I know. And now it feels like it was all for nothing. I won’t be able to attend college after all," I said, my chest tightening with disappointment and fear.

"Elena, I don’t understand. This entire week you’ve pushed yourself harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. What’s changed?" he pressed.

Instead of trying to explain, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small plastic stick I’d been carrying around for hours, afraid to show anyone but unable to ignore what it meant.

"This is why," I said, placing it in his palm.

"A pregnancy test," he said, his voice carefully neutral as he processed what he was seeing. "You’re pregnant?"

"Yeah," I whispered, the single word carrying the weight of everything that was about to change.

The silence stretched between us as he stared at the test, and I wondered what he was thinking. My carefully laid plans for education and independence seemed to crumble around me as I waited for his response.