The Alpha That Calls Me Pup

Prologue

Prologue

EDITED

Bitches. Bitches everywhere.

Was the first thing I thought as I sat in the annoying as hell pre-calculus class that I was unlucky enough to have as my first class. No matter where I went there was always someone whispering and staring, the dipshits never learning any manners. People like these are the reason why I choose to be so antisocial.

Why is her face like that? She looks pissed.

RBF syndrome people, welcome to what my face naturally is.

I want to show her around... the janitors' closet.

A gross horny fucktard, great.

I wonder what her cup size is.

Seriously? Who in the hell says that when first seeing someone?

Damn, what a nice ass.

Another annoying hormonal teen. Great. I'm already done with this school and its only ten minutes in.

"Screw this shit." I say under my breath as I pack up my things before standing to leave.

"Um," The teacher stalls, looking at me. "Where are you going, Whitney?"

"Home, I only came to check out the school today. I still have a lot of things to move in and unpack back home." Which technically wasn't a lie; I haven't even been in my apartment yet, movers having dropped off all my belongings from my last home.

I didn't buy a car since moving here so I was going to have to buy one later, but for now I was just going to walk. Remembering the direction of the local grocery store I walked towards it, on a mission to buy milk and a few other items.

The store was small, fitting well into the small scheme of the tiny town, light green and white themed wallpaper and tiles framed the walls and floors. Quickly walking through the store I grabbed everything I needed, ignoring the growing argument near the cash registers. Placing my things down, I glanced at the cashier when she spoke to me.

A girl with multiple ear piercings, black hair with blue highlights, and golden brown eyes smiled at me rather enthusiastically. "Hi! Thank you for shopping at- shit, not again!" The girl cursed before ducking behind the counter.

I followed her line of sight to see an amazingly tall man with deeply toned and tanned skin. He was muscular to say the least, standing around six foot eight if not more, brown hair that curled at the tips and fell to his shoulders with matching chocolate brown eyes and a manly mustache paired with a goatee. Which his looks were all ruined when I looked towards his hand to see him holding a silver gun, pointing at the man standing across from him who also pointed a gun at him.

"Give me the goddamned money that you own me, Owens and stop running away!" He growled out, obviously pissed.

"Fuck you! If I don't feel like it then I won't!" Owens said, which; was the wrong answer.

I turned around, bagging my groceries calmly and getting ready to get out of dodge. Just as I was about to put away my milk the mystery man fired a warning shot, which just happened to be in my direction. At my groceries. Into my milk. That I had already paid for.

"What the fuck man! What the hell did the milk ever do to you?" I exclaimed in annoyance shooting a glare at the hunk of hotness that was now staring at me in shock.

I guess people never really yelled at him before, or cursed at him either.

He quickly wiped the surprise off his face before shooting Owens in the foot and saying something along the lines of 'we'll talk later' before walking towards me. He easily towered over my 5'6" frame leaning far too close to me for my liking. Or at least that's what I told myself as I tried to ignore the girlish fluttering feeling in the bottomless pit of my stomach.

"And what's your name, pup?" He asked, his deep voice dripping with an accent that sounded Russian, sending shivers down my spine.

"None of your damn business, you Katsap." I said, shoving away from him with my shoulders, grabbing my groceries, the milk all but forgotten.

Katsap- Etymology of the word comes from a tradition of Russian males, before Peter the Great, to uniformally wear a goatee. So it is a bastardaized pronounciation of "kak tzap", like a goat, in Ukranian.