Rejected my hockey Alpha

Penelope's POV

I shouldn't be here.

The thought echoes in my mind as I huddle deeper into my worn jacket, pressing myself against the cold brick wall outside the Frostfang Ice Stadium. My physics textbook digs into my ribs where I clutch it, but nothing can protect me from what I'm about to witness.

"Just a quick peek," I whisper to myself, the same lie I've been telling for months. "Just to see him skate."

Lyra, my wolf, whimpers softly in my mind. This isn't healthy, Penelope. You're torturing yourself.

But I can't stop. Timothy Blackthorn is like staring at the sun; he is dangerous, impossible, and utterly irresistible. For three years, I've watched him from the shadows of lecture halls and cafeteria corners, memorizing the way he moves, the sound of his laugh, the casual confidence that radiates from him.

The service entrance I've been using to sneak peeks at practice sessions is slightly ajar tonight. Through the gap, I can see into the equipment room where players sometimes change before heading home. My heart hammers against my ribs as I lean closer, knowing I should leave, knowing this is wrong, but unable to resist.

That's when I see them.

Timothy has Madison Sawyer pressed against the equipment lockers, her perfectly manicured hands tangled in his dark hair. She's everything I'm not: is tall, confident, from a respected Beta family. Her designer clothes are scattered across the floor.

"You're so good to me, Timothy," Madison purrs, her voice breathy with desire. "Better than any of those other boys could ever be."

He chuckles, low and rough. "You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

My stomach plummets to my feet. I should look away. I should run. But I'm frozen, watching the boy I've secretly loved for years worship another girl's body like she's a goddess.

"Tell me I'm the only one," Madison demands, arching against him. "Tell me I'm special."

Timothy's response is muffled against her neck, but I catch enough. "You're incredible, Madison. Absolutely incredible."

The textbook slips from my numb fingers, hitting the concrete with a sharp crack that echoes through the tunnel. Both heads snap toward the sound, and for one horrifying second, Timothy's storm-blue eyes meet mine through the crack in the door.

Recognition flashes across his features, not the kind I've dreamed about, but the cold awareness that the weird Omega girl has been watching him. His expression shifts from surprise to something worse: pity mixed with disgust.

I run. My sneakers slap against the pavement as I flee through the back parking lot, tears already burning my eyes. Behind me, I hear Madison's tinkling laugh and Timothy's mumbled explanation probably calling me a stalker or a freak. The words I imagine he's saying cut deeper than any object could.

Pathetic little Omega.

Delusional nobody.

As if someone like her could ever interest me.

By the time I reach the bus stop, I'm sobbing so hard I can barely see. The other passengers give me a wide berth—nobody wants to deal with a crying Omega having a breakdown. My phone buzzes with a text from Mom asking when I'll be home, and I realize I forgot my textbook. Twelve hours of work shifts to afford that stupid book, and now it's abandoned in a tunnel where Timothy Blackthorn just crushed my heart into powder.

The bus ride home stretches endlessly through Frost Haven's darkened streets. Through the fogged windows, I watch the glowing mansions of the Alpha district give way to the cramped apartments of the lower ranks. My reflection stares back ordinary brown hair, unremarkable hazel eyes, skin too pale from spending all my free time studying instead of socializing. No wonder he looked at me with such disdain.

Lyra tries to comfort me. You're worthy of love, Penelope. Someday.

Someday what? I snap internally. Someday a prince will notice the nobody Omega? This isn't a fairy tale.

When I finally stumble through our apartment door, Mom looks up from her mountain of paperwork. She works three jobs to keep us afloat since Dad's disgrace, and the exhaustion shows in every line of her face.

"Sweetheart, you look upset," she says, setting down her pen. "What happened?"

I can't tell her the truth that I've been secretly stalking the Alpha heir like some lovesick puppy, that I witnessed him with another girl, that my heart feels like it's been fed through a wood chipper. 

Instead, I mumble something about a difficult test and escape to my tiny bedroom.

The walls are covered with newspaper clippings of Timothy's hockey victories, carefully cut from sports sections and arranged like shrines to my own stupidity. His face grins down at me from dozens of photos scoring goals, lifting trophies, celebrating with teammates who actually matter.

I should tear them down. Should grow up, accept reality, focus on my studies instead of impossible dreams. But my hands shake as I trace the edge of one photo, remembering the way his eyes looked right through me tonight.

"I'm such an idiot," I whisper to my reflection in the dark window. "Such a pathetic, invisible idiot."

My phone buzzes with a notification someone tagged me in a social media post. My blood turns to ice as I open the app and see what awaits me.

It's a video from tonight, shot by someone in the stadium tunnel. The caption reads: "Creepy Omega stalker caught spying on hockey gods! #StalklerAlert #OmegaProblems #Pathetic"

The footage is grainy but clear enough. There I am, pressed against the wall like a lovesick fool, watching Timothy and Madison through that crack in the door. The camera captures my devastated expression when they notice me, my clumsy flight, even the textbook I dropped in my panic.

The comments are already pouring in:

"OMG so embarrassing!"

"Someone needs to teach Omegas their place."

"Timothy should get a restraining order."

"Second-hand cringe! Poor girl has no clue."

My phone slips from my trembling fingers as the full horror hits me. By tomorrow morning, the entire pack will know. They'll know I've been watching him, that I'm the pathetic Omega with delusions of grandeur. They'll laugh about the girl who thought she had a chance with their golden boy.

"Penelope?" Mom's voice calls through my door. "I heard crying. Are you."

She stops speaking when she sees my phone screen, still displaying the cruel video. Her face crumples with secondhand embarrassment.

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispers, sinking onto my bed. "What have you done?"

The disappointment in her voice cuts deeper than any online comment. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry."

"We can't afford this kind of attention," she says quietly, running tired hands through her graying hair. "Not with our family's reputation already destroyed. This will make things worse for all of us."

I curl up on my narrow bed, pulling my pillow over my head as if it can muffle the shame burning through my veins. Three years of careful invisibility, ruined in one moment of weakness. Three years of protecting my secret, destroyed by a dropped textbook and someone's cruel phone camera.

But even as shame consumes me, a terrible hope blooms in my chest. Maybe the video will force Timothy to notice me. Maybe he'll realize we're meant to be together. Maybe this is the Moon Goddess's way of bringing us closer.

Lyra whimpers in my mind, trying to offer comfort, but even my wolf feels the crushing weight of our humiliation. Still, deep down, she whispers dangerous things about destiny and bonds that can't be broken.

Outside my window, snow begins to fall. Tomorrow I'll have to face school, face the stares and whispers and pointed fingers. Tomorrow I'll have to pretend I don't care that my deepest secret has become everyone's entertainment.

But tonight, I let myself break. Tonight, I cry for the girl who believed in fairy tales and the woman who's learning that some dreams are just elaborate forms of self-torture.

The worst part isn't the embarrassment or even the public humiliation waiting for me tomorrow.

The worst part is that even after everything after seeing him with Madison, after being exposed as a stalker, after becoming the pack's latest joke I still believe he might choose me.

And that delusion makes me the most pathetic creature in the entire territory.