The Alpha's Invincible Luna

CHAPTER 1

Standing in the shower of a morning before school was always the best and most relaxing time for me. The steaming water cascaded over me, enveloping my senses and jolting me awake in the most refreshing way. Each droplet danced across my skin, invigorating me and washing away the remnants of sleep. It was the perfect start to the day, revitalizing both my mind and body. My wolf stirred within me, reveling in the warmth and energy, as if urging me to embrace the day’s adventures ahead.

I could feel the soothing sensation incasing my skin, and the gentle steam filled the air like a comforting embrace. My long, blonde hair clung to my shoulders, shimmering like golden strands as I tilted my head back, allowing the droplets to cleanse my face. In that moment, all worries seemed to dissolve, leaving nothing but tranquility in their wake.

However, the sudden beeping of the timer shattered my peaceful reverie, jolting me back to reality. I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I was on the verge of being late if I didn’t hurry. Reluctantly, I turned the taps off, the water’s warmth replaced by the cool air of the bathroom.

I reached for my soft towel, wrapping it around myself with a swift motion, ensuring it covered me snugly from my shoulders down to my knees. The plush fabric felt comforting against my damp skin, a welcome barrier against the chill outside.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, the coolness of the hallway contrasted sharply with the steam that lingered behind me. I padded softly across the floor, my heart racing a bit faster with the rising urgency. Upon reaching my bedroom, I shut the door firmly behind me, shutting out the world for just a moment longer.

I meticulously selected each piece of clothing for the day, laying them out thoughtfully on the bed. The soft fabric of a light blue blouse caught my eye, perfectly complementing a pair of well-fitting jeans. I arranged the outfit with care, ensuring that every item was neatly placed, creating a harmonious ensemble that reflected my mood and the day's plans.

As soon as I let the towel slip from my grasp and stood there, the cool air enveloped my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating my form and casting playful shadows across the floor. I felt both vulnerable and liberated, completely exposed to the world around me. The door swung open with a forceful slam, revealing a 19-year-old towering figure, standing at an impressive 6 feet 5 inches. His tousled brown hair caught the light as he rushed in, and his deep brown eyes darted around the room with mischief. Without missing a beat, he snatched the towel from where it hung and darted to the opposite side of my room, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. My asshole stepbrother was up to his usual antics again.

“Arlo, give me that f*****g towel and get out of my room!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. The frustration bubbled within me, fueled by his indifference.

“Wow. If only we didn’t hate each other to our very core.” He replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, taking his time to scan me from head to toe while I stood there, painfully aware of my vulnerability in the absence of clothing.

I searched desperately for anything to drape over my body, but each time I spotted a potential cover—be it a shirt, a towel, or even a blanket—Arlo would dart past me, yanking it away with a mischievous grin. It was infuriating. No matter how many times I yelled at him out, he refused to leave my room, his antics only adding to my frustration as he reveled in his game of stealing my meager defenses.

“Arlo, get the hell out of here before you really regret it.” I growled, frustration bubbling to the surface as he leaped onto my bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

“What’s going on in there?” A deep voice shouted from down the hall, the sound echoing with urgency. I could hear the heavy footsteps rapidly approaching, the floor creaking under the man’s weight. When he reached my doorway, the sight that met his eyes left him wide-eyed; he quickly raised his hands to shield his face, eyes darting away as if trying to erase the image of my bare skin from his mind.

“Oh my goddess. I am so sorry, Tessa.” He said, his voice laced with regret.

“Zion. Get your f*****g son out of my room before you find yourself without a son anymore.” I hissed, my teeth clenched in frustration.

Zion, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and resolve, avoided my eyes as he moved past me. He reached out, gripping Arlo’s arm firmly, yanking him off my bed with a swift motion.

“I apologize for this.” Zion murmured, his tone apologetic yet strained, as he ushered Arlo away from the chaos of my space.

Werewolves typically don’t have any qualms about being naked in front of one another. It’s an inherent part of our existence, as we frequently shift forms, transforming into fierce creatures of the night in mere moments. When we revert back to our human selves, we do so sans clothing, leaving our skins bare in a way that feels entirely natural. For us, nudity is stripped of any embarrassment; it’s just another aspect of our lives. However, I suppose my stepfather viewed things differently. Given our familial ties, he seemed to carry an extra layer of concern about the whole situation, as if the boundaries of family relationships created an entirely new set of rules regarding modesty.

He hesitated at the doorway, clearly torn between his instincts and the discomfort of barging in while I was exposed. But I knew his son was far from innocent.

“Just get the f**k out of my room! And why don’t you both do me a favor and get the f**k out of my house!” I shouted, my frustration bubbling over as I slammed the door with a heavy thud that echoed down the hallway.

Heart racing, I snatched the towel from my bed, wrapping it around myself as I hurriedly dried off. The cool air hit my skin, making me rush to get dressed. I slipped into my clothes, the familiar fabric grounding me momentarily. A bit of makeup brightened my face, and I quickly brushed through my hair, feeling the tension ease just slightly.

With my school bag slung over my shoulder, I stepped out of my room and made my way toward the kitchen. The scent of coffee filled the air, and there stood my mother, clad in her crisp nurse’s uniform, a beacon of calm amidst the turmoil of the morning.

I attempted to stride confidently past them, but she darted over with a frantic urgency, her fingers wrapping tightly around my arm.

“Tessa, please! You know Arlo was just trying to be funny this morning.” Mom pleaded, her expression a mixture of concern and embarrassment.

“Are you serious right now?” I shot back, my voice rising in disbelief. “He barged into my room without so much as a knock while I was completely naked! You really think that’s okay? You think it’s alright for a 19-year-old guy to barge in to a 17-year-old girls room while she’s getting dressed?” I barked at her.

“Of course not.” She said, her voice trembling as she tried to reason with me. “But he didn’t mean anything by it.” Her eyes flickered with a mix of desperation and hope, pleading for understanding. Frustration surged within me, and with a swift motion, I yanked my arm free from her grasp, feeling the sting of the sudden separation.

“He's old enough to f*****g know better. For f**k's sake, I don’t know why I would ever expect you to be on my side. Go to hell, the whole lot of you.” I snarled, With a swift stride, I approached the front door, my frustration bubbling to the surface. As I reached for the doorknob, I didn't even look back at the room, and in one decisive motion, I flung the door open and let it crash shut behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway.

As I descended the creaky front stairs, a wave of frustration washed over me. My mother, yet again, was defending my infuriating stepbrother, and it felt like a betrayal. In a fit of anger, I kicked the overflowing rubbish bins, the sound of clattering trash echoing in the quiet street. I continued down the pathway, acutely aware of the curious glances from neighbors peering at me from their yards, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern.

I’m certain that everyone within earshot heard the echoes of my voice as I unleashed my frustration at Arlo this morning. The sound of my screams likely reverberated through the walls, a testament to the recurring chaos in our relationship. But honestly, this isn’t anything out of the ordinary for us; our arguments have become an almost daily ritual, a tempest of emotions that seems to define our interactions.

I longed for a solution to kick those annoying bastards out of my home. The thought of their presence weighed heavily on me, and if there were no way to rid myself of them, then I had to come up with an escape plan of my own. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the idea of staying there any longer filled me with a sense of urgency and dread.