The Alpha’s Accidental Mate

Chapter 3

　　Riley

　　I walk inside the classroom and tiredly take my seat. Teagan, the girl who loves to bully me, sits at the back. Her eyes travel to mine, and my stomach turns to lead.

　　I had somehow forgotten about this girl during the weekend. What a grave mistake; I should have skipped this class. Teagan is whispering about me already, and when Josh, her boyfriend, enters the classroom, I want to die.

　　Teagan and Josh are two werewolves who seem to have made it their mission to make my life into a living hell. They take my stuff and call me shrimp or midget, and there was this one time they filled my locker with stinkbombs.

　　I hate them.

　　Josh is the beta of the Crescent pack. His brother, Asher, is the alpha, and it has gone over Josh's head. He behaves like he owns the entire school, and since I'm the weak omega, he has made me his victim.

　　Teagan is his mate, and she loves to bully anyone who is less popular and beautiful than her.

　　"Hello shrimp," Josh places his big paws on the table before me, rattling it until I'm forced back in my chair. He grins. "Nothing to say today?"

　　I shake my head.

　　"Wow!" Josh whistles lowly. "Have the mighty finally fallen? Damn. You have such a big mouth, but you're a wimp behind it."

　　I glare up at him, feeling anger rise in my chest. Every part of me wants to stand up and punch him, but I've tried in the past. It didn't end well. Josh and his friends beat me to a bloody pulp.

　　So I say nothing, and luckily, I'm saved by the other people inside the classroom saying, "The new teacher is coming!"

　　Josh narrows his eyes at me. "This isn't over. After class, I'm coming to get you, Archer. I still haven't forgotten that you called me donkey face inside the cafeteria to your friend last week. I heard it, and you need to be punished accordingly."

　　Shivers run down my spine, and I try to calm my beating heart when the door opens to the classroom. I'm not bothered to look up but furrow my eyebrows when the girls next to me call our teacher "hot."

　　They must be kidding—no teacher is ever good-looking. Each one we have had in the past has been bald and middle-aged. Most of them don't know how to smile and look permanently pissed off. Kinda like a dementor came and sucked out their soul.

　　So I'm naturally curious. I lift an eyebrow and raise my attention to the front of the classroom. Immediately I'm met with the mate-bond and William's surprised blue eyes.

　　Oh-my-god.

　　My chest constricts, and I stop breathing.

　　My mate is the new teacher?

　　William is wearing a sweater vest: black and marine blue. It's hugging his muscular body, and instead of making him look like a dork, it highlights the muscles in his biceps and those broad shoulders. Unfair.

　　His expression and attire scream wealth and pompous beautiful bastard, but he doesn't seem like a bully. He kept his cool no matter how I raised my voice this weekend.

　　My cheeks burn at the reminder of how I mistook William for someone else, and as I keep taking him in, an evil smile twists his lush mouth. I tell myself not to look at it; he will suck me in, and there will be no going back, but it's already too late.

　　William got my full attention.

　　"My name is Mr. Rossi, and I will be your new literature teacher this year."

　　The girls are already swooning. Humans don't know supernaturals exist, but Josh and his friends must definitely be able to smell Rossi. They are gossiping in the back.

　　I'm not sure how to handle that my mate is my teacher, so I pick up my book and quietly listen to Mr. Rossi while ignoring the mate-bond. We clearly can't be together anyway.

　　He is my teacher and the alpha of another pack—forbidden fruit in more ways than one, but damn. No one should have the right to be this hot and be my mate.

　　I almost fall off my seat as I'm hit full force with that masculine beauty.

　　Mr. Rossi is the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. And it's weird because his features aren't perfect. No, they are somewhat bold, and while his cheekbones are pronounced, I'm more drawn to his nose. I suspect he once had it broken. There is a scar on it.

　　As if feeling my stare, Mr. Rossi meets my eyes, and I'm stuck, unable to turn away from his pouty lips compressed in irritation as he scowls down at me. I can see what he is thinking, "This girl isn't paying attention," and I miraculously turn back to my book.

　　I spend many minutes listening to Mr. Rossi. He then hands us a book and marks out which chapters to read. The book is one I've already read—a classic, so I let my eyes travel to the drool-worthy teacher again.

　　'You really should be focusing on your book, though.'

　　My eyes bulge out of their sockets hearing Mr. Rossi's voice inside my head. We aren't in the same pack, so how—

　　'Telepathy.'

　　Oh.

　　'Do you really find me drool-worthy?'

　　My cheeks burn, and I quip back. 'Do you always read people's thoughts without asking?'

　　I can see his lips curling even though he is pretending to be reading a magazine. His shoes are resting on the table.

　　'No,' he answers, sounding amused. 'I didn't do it this weekend, but fate seems to want you in my life, so I grew curious... Who is Riley Archer?'

　　'someone you should stay away from,' I growl at him. 'You're my teacher and should stop using that flirtatious tone with me!'

　　Mr. Rossi snorts in his seat, and those blue eyes briefly flash to mine to let me know he is smiling. 'But what if I find the fact that you're my student so much hotter?'

　　'You're a sick, sick man, Mr. Rossi.'

　　'Am I supposed to believe you want nothing to do with me?' he asks, returning to his magazine. 'I mean, I am rather drool-worthy, if I may say so myself.'

　　I clench my hands. Anger is fuelling me up, but I take a deep breath to calm down. My lungs fill with air, and I try to push out the visual of running over Mr. Rossi with a train.

　　'You're infuriating,' I tell him.

　　'And you seem rather violent,' Mr. Rossi lowers his magazine, winking at me from his table. 'But that's alright. The crazy ones are the best in bed, wouldn't you agree?'

　　My cheeks blow up. The nerve of this man! I return to my book with my heart pounding. Mr. Rossi chuckles in his seat, and I loathe how the sound gives wake to butterflies. The man is inappropriate; I should not fall for him!