Page 2 of Stalked By the Alphas

1

HAZEL

The wind lashes against the windows of my cosy cottage on the high street of this gorgeous little village in the Lake District. It’s only just summer, but the weather has been atrocious for this time of year.

I stare out of the window and shiver. The clouds overhead are making it darker than it should be. Sitting at my desk, trying to review the invoices for the bookshop, I can’t focus. Picking up my phone, I stare at the message, and tears prick my eyes.

Yet another alpha has dumped me. Left on the side of the road with a pitiful excuse.

It’s not you, it’s me.

We aren’t compatible.

I don’t see a future with you.

I need someone more stable.

It is you, not me.

My family wants me to mate with someone who comes from a good family .

So not a dead family then, which is exactly what you get with me.

I sniff and, with a shaky hand, reach for the herbal tablets the naturopath next door to the bookshop gave me for my anxiety. I pick up the brown plastic bottle and uncap it. Shaking out two tablets, I swill them back with the water in the glass on my desk.

Sitting back, I close my eyes and finish the water, but my eyes snap open when the wind picks up, and the rain hits the glass harder. I rise, going to look out of the window with the cottage panes. Standing at the side, hidden by the curtain, I peer out. I can’t see anyone out there, but I know better. I know someone watches me. I can feel their eyes on me. I shudder as icy fingers trail down my spine. Gripping the edge of the curtain, I quickly pull it closed, bringing the other one to meet it in the middle. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I step back and walk slowly out of the small room I commandeered as my office to check the front door. It is locked, chained, and bolted. I knew it would be, but I have to check. Several times.

Stepping back, I hurry through the small cottage to check the back door as well. The same system is in place.

I breathe out, and I force myself to relax.

Making my way back to my office, I leave the door open and move across to the desk to sit again, staring at the laptop. My phone catches my eye, and with a huff, I turn it over. I have to just stop trying. There is no point. There is something fundamentally wrong with me as an omega. Maybe my scent, jasmine with a dash of vanilla, is so off-putting to alphas that they can’t stand to be around me. Or maybe they want a more traditional omega. One who will sign up for a scent-matching app or be the little homemaker and do all the things to catch the perfect mate.

That’s just not me. I don’t lie about it or try to pretend I’m someone I’m not. I’m upfront about the way I am, the way I think for myself, and how I want to be independent but still be loved for me and not because biology says so.

But that must be the problem.

The trouble is, I don’t think I can lie about who I am just to hang onto an alpha long enough to make him fall in love with me.

“Stop trying, stop getting hurt,” I mutter, but that thought is depressing as fuck, and I’m not sure that is an option either. I don’t want to be alone. That’s why I put myself through this. But it just isn’t working. Maybe I need to compromise a bit. I could try a scent-matching app. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

With a heavy sigh, I sit back and let the herbal remedy tablets do their thing. I feel myself relaxing and inhaling deeply before I sit up straight again to get back to work.

But something catches my eye and makes me frown. Something isn’t right. I keep my desk meticulously tidy, and the glass ball paperweight is turned away from me. Reaching out, I turn it back an inch until it is how it should be.

As I adjust the paperweight, a chill creeps over me. Someone has been in here. Someone has touched my things.

I scan the room for other signs of disturbance. Nothing else seems out of place, but that doesn’t ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone, flipping it over.

I should call someone. The police, maybe. But what would I say? That my paperweight was slightly askew? That I have a feeling someone’s been watching me? They’d laugh me out of town.

A sudden gust of wind rattles against the window again, making me jump. My heart pounds as I try to calm my breathing. It’s just the storm. It’s just my imagination running wild, as usual.

Reaching for the bottle of herbal tablets again, I shake another two out and clutch them in my hand when I realise I’m out of water.

I rise from my chair again, my legs unsteady as I make my way to the kitchen. The old floorboards creak beneath my feet, each sound amplified in the silence of the cottage. I flick on the light switch, blinking as harsh fluorescent light floods the small space.

The tap sputters as I fill a glass with water, my hand shaking slightly. I down the pills quickly, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. As I set the glass down, movement catches my eye through the kitchen window.

My breath catches in my throat. For a split second, I swear I see a figure standing at the far end of the garden, silhouetted against the stormy sky. But when I blink, there’s nothing there but swaying branches and sheets of rain.

“Get it together, Hazel,” I mutter, pressing my palms against my eyes. The herbs must be kicking in, making me see things.

As I turn to head back to my office, where I need to get these invoices done, there is a loud crash from upstairs that makes me freeze on the spot, my heart hammering against my ribs. My scent wafts around me, heightened by my fear. The glass slips from my grasp, shattering on the kitchen floor. I barely notice the sting as a shard nicks my bare foot.

Breathing heavily, I grab a large umbrella from the stand by the door and grip it tightly. I should run. I should run and call the police, sell my house, and move back to my hometown in Cornwall, but instead, I place my foot on the bottom stair, wincing as it creaks.

The stairs seem to stretch endlessly as I creep upwards, each step an agonising eternity. My knuckles are white around the umbrella handle, my only weapon against whatever awaits me. The wind howls outside, masking any sounds from above.

I reach the landing, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The gloominess of the first floor looms before me. My bedroom door stands ajar.

Silence greets me, as I edge closer, broken only by the pounding of rain against the roof. I take a hesitant step forward, then another. The floorboards groan beneath my weight.

A sudden gust of wind slams my bedroom door fully open. I stifle a scream, stumbling backwards. My heart thunders in my chest as I try to get my wits about me.

With the umbrella held in both my hands like a bat, I rush forward into the room only to find it empty and the curtains billowing up in the rush of wind coming through the open window. I lower the umbrella when I see a glass ornament on the floor that has been swept off the dressing table. I move forward to pick it up and replace it carefully, before crossing over to close the window. The hinge is loose. I opened it when I came home earlier to let in a bit of fresh air. Slamming it closed, I pull the lever tightly and breathe out. My head is spinning, and I feel nauseous. I should go down and clean up the broken glass, but suddenly, I feel too tired to move.

I sag against the wall, my legs trembling beneath me. The adrenaline rush leaves me feeling drained and shaky. I slide down to sit on the bed, the umbrella slipping from my grasp.

In the sudden quiet with the window shut, my ragged breathing seems impossibly loud.

“Pull yourself together,” I mutter. “It was just the wind. Nothing more.”

But even as I try to convince myself, doubt gnaws at the edges of my mind. The paperweight downstairs. The figure I thought I saw in the garden. And now this. It’s too much to be a mere coincidence.

A chill runs through me as a horrible thought takes root. What if someone really is watching me? What if they’ve been in my house?

I crawl up the bed and slide under the duvet. My head is spinning, and I feel woozy. I close my eyes against the rotating room, hoping that this will pass quickly so I can check the doors again before I fall asleep.