Obsessed With My Alpha

Gema's POV My heart is pounding as I stare at myself in the mirror, whispering the line over and over again. "I’ve loved you since we were pups, Jonah. Please, tell me—do you feel the same?" The words barely make it past my lips, but hearing them, even in my own voice, sends a thrill through me. I sigh, forcing myself to meet my own gaze. “Come on, Gema. You’ve practiced this a million times. Just say it when you see him. What’s the worst that could happen?” I already know the answer, though. The worst would be Jonah laughing it off, ruffling my hair like he always does, and calling me his "little cheeks." his nickname for me back then on the count I had the chubbiest cheek in my grade back then. The thought alone makes my stomach churn. I know my place in the pack. My family is beta, and my uncle is highly respected, but me? I’m rankless. Almost human. I might never even get a wolf, and then what would I be? Nothing special, that’s for sure. “Your job is to mate with a high-ranking werewolf, Gema,” my dad’s voice echoes in my head, repeating the words he’s said to me my whole life. “The higher the rank, the better.” But that doesn’t matter to me. None of it does. I only want Jonah Snows, my best friend, my everything. And not because he’s the alpha’s son. I’ve loved him since the first time he defended me. Jonah’s always been everything I admire—strong, brave, and loyal. When Michelle Bowner shoved me down in kindergarten and called me “rankless,” he was the one who jumped in and defended me. Since that day, we’ve been inseparable, like two mismatched puzzle pieces that somehow fit perfectly together. He’s my ride or die. But the problem is, to him, I’m just the kid sister he never had. I stare at my reflection, running a hand through my sandy brown hair. I don’t fit his "type." Not even close. Jonah likes tall, slim blondes with big blue doe eyes. I’m... well, none of those things. I’m fit, but I have more curves than he usually goes for. And even though I’m not exactly ugly, I feel invisible next to the girls he’s drawn to. I hate how I look sometimes, except maybe my boobs—they turned out all right, at least. But still, I can’t help comparing myself to the girls he usually goes for. It doesn’t help that Jonah’s always been a bit of a player. He flirts, fools around, and has never looked twice at me in that way. I hate it. But maybe, just maybe, if I get the courage to tell him how I feel, he’ll see me differently. I can’t keep waiting forever, right? I glance at the clock and realize I’m running late. Tonight could be the night. If I don’t tell him now, I might never get the chance—and that thought hurts almost as much as the fear of rejection. Taking a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders, trying to summon every ounce of courage I have. Tonight, I’m going to lay it all on the line, and hope Jonah sees me for who I really am. I grab my jacket, trying to ignore the jittery feeling in my stomach as I head out the door. It’s a crisp night, the kind that makes everything feel sharper, clearer. I need that. If I’m going to pour my heart out to Jonah, I need to be clear, grounded. I take a few deep breaths as I walk to the meeting spot, focusing on the cool air, the soft crunch of gravel under my shoes. Each step feels like it’s carrying me closer to my fate, for better or worse. This is it. No more rehearsing. No more holding back. Tonight, I’m going to tell him everything. But with each step, my mind starts spinning with doubts. What if he thinks I’m being ridiculous? What if he just laughs and brushes me off? Or worse, what if he’s disappointed, like he’s let me down easy so he doesn’t hurt my feelings? But I know I can’t keep these feelings bottled up anymore. I can’t keep pretending to be okay when he talks about all the girls he’s hooked up with, like he doesn’t notice the way my heart breaks a little each time. I can’t keep smiling and nodding, pretending that I’m fine just being his friend. Because I’m not. I want him in ways a best friend shouldn’t, in ways I probably shouldn’t even think about. And I can’t stop myself. When I get to our spot—an old, abandoned treehouse just outside the pack’s training grounds—I see him already waiting, his tall frame silhouetted against the moonlight. Jonah looks relaxed, leaning against the tree with his hands in his pockets, his dark hair catching the soft silver glow. He flashes me that familiar grin, the one that’s always been enough to make my heart skip a beat. “Hey, Gema! Took you long enough,” he teases. I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool. “Fashionably late, Snows. Ever heard of it?” He laughs, reaching out to ruffle my hair, and I swat his hand away. I want to keep it light, to joke around like we always do, but the weight of what I’m about to say presses down on me. I try to swallow it down, but the words bubble up, a knot of nerves and hope that refuses to stay quiet any longer. “Jonah…” My voice is shaky, and I hate how it sounds. “Can we talk? Like, really talk?” His expression shifts, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He straightens up, crossing his arms as he studies me. “Uh-oh. This sounds serious. What’s up, Gema?” I take a deep breath, feeling like my heart is about to beat out of my chest. “I’ve been thinking about something for a while now, and I just… I need to know.” He tilts his head, waiting. “Go on,” he says, his tone softer than usual, almost like he senses the weight behind my words. I try to steady myself, meeting his gaze with every ounce of bravery I can muster. “I… I’ve loved you since we were pups, Jonah. Not just as a friend, not like a sister. I mean, really loved you. You’re my best friend, but you’re more than that to me.” I force myself to keep going, even though I can feel my voice trembling. “I just… I need to know if you feel the same. If there’s any chance that you could ever… want me that way.” For a moment, he’s silent, just staring at me like he’s trying to process my words. The seconds stretch out painfully, and I feel my confidence starting to crack. I’m almost ready to backtrack, to laugh it off as some stupid joke, when he finally speaks. “Gema…” His voice is low, almost hesitant, and my stomach drops. “You’re… you’re my best friend. You’ve always been there for me. But I just… I don’t know if I can see you that way.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking away. “I mean, you’re like a sister to me. I guess I never thought of you as… you know… anything else.” I feel my heart shatter, each word landing like a punch to the gut. I try to keep my face neutral, but I know he can see the hurt. I feel raw, exposed, like I just tore open my chest and showed him my heart, only for him to turn away. “Right,” I say, forcing a smile that feels like a mask. “I get it. I just… I needed to know. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Jonah reaches out, squeezing my shoulder. “Hey, don’t apologize. You’re amazing, Gema. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” He tries to smile, but it feels empty, like he’s trying to comfort me without understanding the depth of what he’s just done. I nod, swallowing down the ache in my throat. “Yeah, thanks. I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.” I turn away, feeling the weight of his gaze on me, but I can’t bring myself to look back. I just walk, letting the tears fall once I’m out of sight, feeling more alone than ever. And in that moment, I make a promise to myself. If I’m not good enough for him now, I’ll become someone who is. I’ll prove to everyone—and especially to Jonah—that I’m more than the rankless girl without a wolf. One day, he’ll regret not seeing me as anything more than his little sister.