My Childhood Alpha Hates Me
Agatha Christie · Ongoing · 9.7k Words
Introduction
"We're strangers, remember?" The eyes that used to be gentle only for me now looked at me with cold indifference.
But why does he hold me tight every time I'm in trouble? Why is his skin burning hot and his muscles hard like iron? Why do I tremble when his breath hits my neck?
When blood scented the rainy night and red-eyed beasts showed their fangs, I discovered the truth—my childhood sweetheart Logan was no longer human.
Chapter 1
Rainey's POV
The windshield wipers worked frantically, but they couldn't clear the rain. I gripped the steering wheel, squinting to see the mountain road ahead.
Damn it, why tonight of all nights?
Ten years. I'd finally returned to Rainfield, Washington. Ten years ago, my parents had rushed eight-year-old me away from here, and I'd never come back. Until now. At eighteen, I finally had the courage to face those blurry childhood memories...
Those memories of him.
"Be careful, Rainey. Mountain roads are dangerous." Mom's parting words echoed in my ears.
I let out a bitter laugh. Careful? I'd spent my whole life being careful—so careful I didn't even dare get a pet.
Lightning split the night sky ahead, followed by deafening thunder. Startled, I jerked the wheel and the car instantly spun out of control!
"Shit—"
The tires skidded on wet pavement, the car swaying wildly. I slammed the brakes, but it was too late. The car crashed through the guardrail and slid into the ditch!
BANG!
After the massive impact, the car flipped at the bottom. My head slammed against the window, everything going blurry. Blood filled my nostrils, and all I could hear was rain.
I tried pushing the door open, but it was crushed and wouldn't budge. Panic flooded through me, my breathing turning rapid.
"Help! Anyone! Someone help me!" I screamed desperately, my voice swallowed by the storm.
Just when I thought I was going to die, a tall figure appeared outside the window.
Through shattered glass, I saw a face both familiar and strange. Those deep eyes, that small scar above his left eyebrow—the one he'd gotten ten years ago protecting me.
My heart nearly stopped.
"Logan?" I could barely believe my eyes.
He froze, complex emotions flashing across his face, but quickly returned to cold indifference. "Well, well. Look who's back."
My heart pounded. It was him! Really Logan! My childhood best friend! But now all I saw in those eyes was distance and hostility.
He reached for the crushed door, veins bulging in his arms, and then—
CRACK!
The solid metal door was torn open by his bare hands! Like ripping paper!
"How is that possible..." I stared in shock.
Was this still the skinny Logan I remembered? How had he gotten so strong?
Logan didn't explain. He just leaned down and lifted me from the driver's seat. His embrace was still warm, and I couldn't help wanting to get closer.
"Still as reckless as ever," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I looked at him hopefully. "Logan... God, it really is you. I thought—"
"Oh, now you remember my name? How convenient." He cut me off coldly.
Those words hit like a slap across the face.
Logan carried me out, rain immediately soaking us both. In the dim night, I saw several boys our age standing behind him, all unusually built.
They looked at me with pure hostility.
"Who are they?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
"None of your business."
He strode toward a black car by the roadside.
Inside, the heat was cranked up. Logan dumped me in the passenger seat, his movements far from gentle.
I stole glances at him. God, the change was dramatic. The skinny little boy from ten years ago had become a six-foot-tall man with serious muscle. But what shocked me most were his eyes—eyes that had once been tender only for me now looked at me like I was his enemy.
"Logan, I need to explain what happened—"
"Don't." He cut me off directly. "There's nothing to explain. We're strangers, remember?"
Strangers.
That word cut into my heart like a knife, making it hard to breathe.
Tears welled up, and I quickly turned to the window. We weren't strangers! We were childhood best friends! But I was the one who'd chosen silence for ten years. What right did I have to expect him to still remember me?
"Still crying about everything," he muttered, but quietly turned up the heat.
This small gesture sparked hope in my heart.
"How have you been?" I took a deep breath and asked tentatively.
"Great. Never been better." Each word dripped with dismissal.
"I heard you're popular at school now..."
He laughed coldly. "So? What's your point?"
"I'm happy for you. You deserve—"
"Do I?" He turned to look at me, his eyes complex and dangerous. "That's rich coming from you."
Every word felt like an accusation. The joy of reunion gradually turned to hurt, so I fell silent.
The car soon stopped in front of my house.
"We're here," Logan said expressionlessly.
I unbuckled my seatbelt but couldn't bear to get out.
"Logan..." I turned to him, eyes full of hope. "Thank you for saving me."
He stared straight ahead, not even turning his head. "Drive more carefully next time. I won't always be around to clean up your messes."
Clean up my messes?
Those words completely shattered the last hope in my heart.
I pushed open the door, rain and tears mixing together.
"Logan, please. Can't we talk? Just like before?"
He finally turned to look at me, and for a moment there was hesitation in his eyes, but it quickly returned to cold indifference. "We did a lot of things before. But that doesn't mean we should still be doing them now."
Then he started the engine. "Don't read into it. I would've helped anyone."
The car sped away, taillights quickly disappearing into the rainy night. I stood in the rain, letting water and tears flow together down my face.
After ten years apart, he'd changed—changed so much I barely recognized him. But that familiar feeling was still there, like something deep in my heart was beating violently.
I looked up where he'd disappeared, suddenly remembering something—why had he been "just passing by" on that remote mountain road?
And how had he torn open that car door with his bare hands?
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