Alpha's Mate (Completed)

Chapter 1

''Kim!'' My boyfriend calls, the crowd bending to his will as he surges toward me, everyone making way for the captain of the varsity football team.

''Keenan!'' I run to him as well, falling into his arms and leaning up to peck his cheek.

''You'll be at the game later tonight, right babe?''

''Wouldn't miss it for the world,'' I reassure him, though the Blackhawks game is on the same time, and I largely prefer hockey. I also have a few test I should study for... but, as usual, I make sacrifice.

''Meet you at your locker in five?''

''Sounds good,'' He nods, leaving me to gather my books.

We walk out of the school, hand in hand, our arms swinging in sync. He opens te car door for me, I smile and say thanks, and then he moves to the driver's seat.

My home isn't very far from the school, but Keenan insist on driving me. As much as I enjoy being with him, I love the outdoors, and it would be nice to walk home and then..

''Babe? We're here.'' My attention is wrenched from my thoughts and back into reality.

''See you later!'' I yell back over my shoulder. Entering the front door, I slip off my shoes, noticing a filthy, worn pair of black sneakers that I've never seen in my life.

I shrug, assuming they belong to some weird friend of my fathers. He brings home old acquaintances often.

I bounce into the kitchen, expecting to see some forty-something year-old man. Instead, a very fine looking guy is sitting at the kitchen table, drumming his tan fingers on the top of the chair next to him.

I can feel my eyes widening at the shock-this cannot be my dad's friend- and try to refrain from revealing my presence.

I back slowly out of the kitchen, but a low chuckle stops my progress. I peek my head around the corner, and the random dude is staring at me, laughing. I, however, am not so amused.

''Who are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?'' I snap, annoyed with his easy, cocky demeanour.

He simply gapes at me for a while, seeming to fight for control of himself. He shakes and shudders, clutching the table. Right when it's really starting to freak me out-is he having an seizure or something? Should I call 9-1-1?- he relaxes, calm and collected. He whispers something that sounds an awful not like ''Mine'', which creeps me out even more.

Finally he answers my question.

''Whoa there,'' he mutters, lifting his hands in surrender. ''Your mother invited me in.''

''Kim!'' My mother rushes into the kitchen. ''I hope you weren't rude to our guest!'' Strangely, her hair is wild, her manner is flustered-it isn't like my mother to be unprepared for entertaining company, even unexpected visits.

''Of course not, mother dearest.'' I say in the sweetest tone I can muster. She catches the underlying sarcasm and gives me a glare before turning to the mystery man.

''Ryker, um,'' She searches for the proper term to place after his name. ''Sir? Is there anything you desire to be comfortable?''

Sir? Oh, please.

''Sir?'' I scoff, rolling my eyes. Her eyes wide and pinning me with another warning stare.

''Yes.'' He narrows his eyes. ''You can call me Ryker.''

''No thank you, Mr. Ryker Sir.'' I reply flippantly.

''A glass of water would be great, Hope.'' Hope? That's my mother's name, there is no way they are on a first name basis.