MATED TO MY ALPHA MATE
The city was alive again, buzzing with its usual rhythm by the time Diva returned home. Cars honked in the distance, streetlights blinked, and the occasional bark of a stray dog echoed in the night. But none of it registered in her mind. She clutched the leather-bound journal against her chest like it held her last shred of hope, her footsteps quick and deliberate as she entered the apartment.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she locked it and bolted to her room. She needed answers, and she needed them now. Jason and the others were still asleep, their rooms dark and quiet. Good. The fewer questions she had to answer, the better.
She sat on the edge of her bed, flipping the journal open. The first few pages were blank, save for faint creases in the paper. But then, as she turned to the fourth page, her breath hitched.
"To understand the present, you must first know the past."
The words were scrawled in elegant, flowing handwriting, their meaning as cryptic as the figure who had handed her the book. Below them was a symbol—a crescent moon encircled by flames. She traced it with her finger, feeling the slight indentation in the paper.
"What does this mean?" she whispered to herself.
Her fingers trembled as she turned the page again. This time, there were names written in neat rows: Derek Crest, Mikael Hart, Evelyn Dane, Harlin Crest... Diva Crest.
Her name sat at the bottom, circled in red ink. She stared at it, her heartbeat quickening.
"Why am I on this list?" she muttered.
The journal didn't answer. Instead, it revealed more symbols, more names, and a series of dates that meant nothing to her. But as she flipped further, she found a map—a crude drawing of the city with certain locations marked in bold Xs.
One of them was her apartment.
Diva gasped, slamming the journal shut. Her chest rose and fell with panicked breaths. Someone had been watching her—tracking her every move. But why?
She stood and paced the room, her mind spinning. The figure had said this journal held answers, but all she had now were more questions. The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn't stay here. If they knew where she lived, she wasn't safe.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her out of her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up, her hand shaking.
Unknown Number: Did you read it?
Diva's blood ran cold. She stared at the message, her fingers frozen over the keyboard.
Unknown Number: You don't have much time. They're coming.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet felt like they were stuck to the floor.
Unknown Number: Trust no one. Not even him.
"Him?" Diva whispered. "Who are they talking about?"
Before she could process the warning, a loud knock shattered the silence of the apartment. She jumped, clutching her phone tightly.
"Diva? Open up! It's Mikael!"
Her heart raced. Mikael. Could she trust him? The text had said not to, but this was Mikael—her best friend, her constant support.
"Diva?" His voice was urgent now. "I know you're in there. Let me in."
She took a deep breath, hiding the journal under her pillow before crossing the room. Peeking through the peephole, she saw Mikael's familiar face, but something about his expression made her hesitate.
"Why are you here?" she asked through the door.
"I need to talk to you. It's important."
Diva's fingers hovered over the lock. "How do I know I can trust you?"
Mikael frowned. "What kind of question is that? It's me, Mikael. What's going on with you?"
She bit her lip, torn between opening the door and keeping it shut. Finally, she unlocked it, but only opened it a crack.
Mikael pushed his way inside, closing the door behind him. "Why are you acting so paranoid? Did something happen?"
Diva folded her arms, keeping her distance. "You tell me. Why are you here in the middle of the night?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back. "I saw you sneaking out earlier. Where did you go?"
Her stomach sank. "You were following me?"
"I wasn't following you," he said quickly. "I just... happened to see you leave. I was worried, okay?"
"Worried, or spying?" Diva's voice was sharp now.
Mikael ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Diva, what's going on? You've been acting strange for days. If something's wrong, just tell me."
She hesitated. Could she tell him about the journal? About the figure in the shadows? The text had warned her not to trust anyone, but she couldn't handle this alone.
Before she could decide, her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: He's lying. Get rid of him. Now.
Diva's breath hitched, her grip tightening on the phone.
"What is it?" Mikael asked, stepping closer.
She backed away, holding the phone behind her. "Nothing."
"Diva." His tone was firm now. "Let me see it."
"No!" The word burst out of her, louder than she intended.
Mikael's eyes narrowed. "Who are you talking to?"
"No one."
He took another step forward, his hand outstretched. "Let me see the phone, Diva."
"No," she repeated, her voice trembling.
The tension in the room was suffocating. Mikael's eyes darted to her nightstand, where a corner of the journal peeked out from under the pillow.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Diva, stop lying to me!" He lunged for the journal, but she grabbed it first, clutching it against her chest.
"Get out!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.
Mikael froze, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. "Fine," he said quietly. "But whatever you're hiding... it's going to get you killed."
He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Diva sank to the floor, the journal still in her hands. She didn't know who to trust anymore—or if trusting anyone was even an option. All she knew was that the danger was closer than ever, and she was running out of time.
To be continued....