My Crush's Rival Made me an Alpha

‎Cold!

‎

‎That was the first thing Wesley felt as he stirred awake. It was a sharp, slicing cold that pressed through his clothes and seeped into his bones, dragging him out of a darkness he couldn’t remember falling into.

‎

‎His eyes fluttered open to the blurry patch of the sky at sunrise, framed by street lamps and empty road markings.

‎

‎He pushed himself to sit up, his eyes meeting the view of the faded, empty road that extended into the distance. Wesley realized he was lying on the pavement.

‎

‎'Why am I on the ground? What... happened?' For some reason, Wesley felt like he's been there on the floor since forever. He couldn't remember anything.

‎

‎For a moment, he didn’t move. Part of him was afraid to. His brain moved slowly, as if wrapped in cotton, his breath shaky and perplexed as he held his throbbing head.

‎

‎He tried to remember how he got here, but every memory slid away the moment he reached for it. He was too discombobulated to focus.

‎

‎His hand brushed something sticky. He subconsciously looked, only to freeze-- eyes widening in panic.

‎

‎Blood!

‎

‎A gasp tore out of him as he trembled all over at the sight of the dark, dried puddle spread beneath him. A chill that had nothing to do with the morning air crawled up his spine.

‎

‎It didn't take him long to figure it was his blood? It had to be.

‎

‎He scrambled backward on instinct, palms slipping against the pavement. He ran his trembling hands over his body, expecting to find wounds. Heart thudding loudly in his ears.

‎

‎Thinking he was bleeding, Wesley waited for the pain to register.

‎

‎But... there was nothing. Not even a bruise.

‎

‎“What… the hell?” Wesley was left confused.

‎

‎For several seconds he just sat there, shivering in disbelief.

‎

‎'That's clearly mine' he looked down at his bloodied, torn cloth. ' How then am I....' Wesley geared into his memory, looking to remember how he got here in the first place.

‎

‎Then came the flashback.

‎

‎Wesley remembered riding back from work on his squeaky bicycle the previous night. He’d been thinking about college and how much it sucked to be the guy no one noticed when suddenly, something jumped out of the trees and attacked him.

‎

‎Wesley froze.

‎

‎He remembered the growls that came after he was knocked off his bike, as well as the sight of what had attacked him.

‎

‎It was a wolf!

‎

‎Wesley remembered its sharp claws and jagged fangs digging into him as it mauled and bit him to death.

‎

‎His breath stuttered. The image flickered in his mind like a dying flashlight, now clearer as if he were reliving it. The mad, dangerous gleam of its eyes, and the salivating predatory teeth that dug bites of pain through him returned, fresh in his mind.

‎

‎Wesley barely remembered fighting back as much as he remembered..

‎

‎Dying.

‎

‎Yet, here he was. Not only alive but also uninjured and without a scratch.

‎

‎None of this made sense.

‎

‎' Was I hallucinating? I sure didn't drink last night... Besides, what would explain this pool of blood?'

‎

‎'Did I fall on my bike and hit my head?' Wesley pondered, his gaze wandering to his bike that lay crashing into a tree on the roadside.

‎

‎Having read so many mangas, he started having a dreadful feeling that he'd found himself in a similar situation.

‎

‎Wesley was still in a daze when he heard a vibration buzz weakly in his pocket. He almost jumped out of his skin, but then he relaxed when he realized it was just his phone. He reached in his pocket to pull it out, checking the message on the cracked screen with dread, half-expecting it to say something cryptic like, "You have been reborn."

‎

‎But no. It was just his roommate:

‎

‎"Your fucking alarm has been going off for an hour now."

‎

‎Wesley stared at the message.

‎

‎6:42 AM.

‎

‎Wesley blinked. He had class this morning.

‎

‎“My life actually sucks.” He whispered, stunned at the mundanity of it.

‎

‎Of all the things to worry about after waking up in a pool of his very own blood, late attendance somehow rose to the top.

‎

‎" Great,” he muttered, pushing to his feet. “I somehow survive a wolf attack, what's Intro to Economics that I cannot survive?”

‎

‎Pushing himself up slowly, Wesley felt dizzy. The world tilted, then corrected, like a camera auto-focusing.

‎

‎However, what he found even strange was how his senses sharpened abruptly. Too abrupt!

‎

‎He could feel the cold air brushing against his skin like fingertips and he could hear the hum of the streetlights almost two blocks away.

‎

‎Wesley didn't pay this too much mind, passing it off as the aftermath of  adrenaline rush from what he'd encountered last night.

‎

‎He started walking, stumbling at first before he steadied shortly after, as if his body remembered how to move before his mind did.

‎

‎' In any case, I have to get out of here to avoid being questioned.' He picked up his bike, and backpack, riding back to campus with its squeak now louder.

‎

‎As he rode back to campus, the world seemed somewhat different.

‎

‎The morning air skimmed against his skin like a whisper. His ears twitched at the sound of a car several streets away and his view was so much sharper, as if the man crossing the street in the far distance was only right in front of him.  He could even smell the damp metal of the nearby street lamps in the air.

‎

‎Wesley felt estranged in his own body.

‎

‎However, he was more concerned about getting to campus, cleaning himself up, and attending class.

‎

‎Soon, the campus buildings came into view, washed in early sunlight. At first, he rode pass students  with half-awake expressions who ignored him.

‎

‎Until some caught sight of his state.

‎

‎They gasped in shock, immediately calling the attention of others to look at him.

‎

‎The stares hit him like thrown stones.

‎

‎Wesley looked down. ' Can you all just ignore me for today as you always have?' He muttered under his breath as he forced himself to ride even faster to his dorm.

‎

‎Getting to the dorm, he parked his bike but just as he was about to go in, he saw a girl standing to the side, staring at him as if she'd just seen a ghost.

‎

‎“Terrible accident,” he mumbled. “You should see the other guy.” Wesley managed an awkward half-smile at the girl who just recoiled.

‎

‎He didn't stand around either, and just rushed in.

‎

‎In his dorm lobby, someone gasped when the elevator opened and saw him. Wesley didn't bother explaining, it was pointless. He just forced a smile that probably made him look deranged and went to his room.

‎

‎By the time he reached his dorm room, his scuffled hoodie was stiff with dried blood, and his shoes left faint red prints on the floor. His roommate peeked out from behind a laptop screen, eyes widening.

‎

‎“What the hell?”

‎

‎“Long story,” Wesley said. “Short answer,  I’m alive.”

‎

‎He left to shower quickly without telling his roommate more. Wesley scrubbed frantically, as if he could erase the memory by erasing the blood on him. He kept expecting to see a wound appear, like maybe the wounds that were supposed to be on him from last night would… reverse? Break and return? or anything!

‎

‎But his skin stayed smooth.

‎

‎' Did my skin always look this toned? Did my veins always sit this close to the surface? Did I always hear the water this loudly? Why is the showerhead screaming at me?' Wesley wondered, but he had no answers to his questions. Not any he could think of.

‎

‎When he felt that he was clean enough, Wesley returned to prepare for class.

‎

‎He got dressed quickly and left sometime after, his thoughts spiraling on his way to class.

‎

‎' I should see a doctor. But doctors ask questions. Doctors want explanations. Doctors run tests. What would I even say Hey, I died last night but now I have Dolby-Atmos ears? Like that wouldn't get me put in a psychiatric ward!'

‎

‎When he finally rushed into class minutes later, he was out of breath and completely unprepared for the way every head turned toward him.

‎

‎Even cleaned up, something felt off. It seemed as though he were still covered in blood the way they all looked at him.

‎

‎'Great, fantastic. This is my nightmare. Literal nightmare mode unlocked!'

‎

‎Wesley forced his head down and slipped into a seat in front, ignoring the whispers and suspicious looks shot at him. Thankfully, the professor taking the class didn't mind.

‎

‎Struggling to calm his nerves, he clenched his hands so hard he could feel the texture of the desk through his palms. His heart hammered so violently he wondered if anyone else could hear it.

‎

‎Wesley forced himself to close his eyes, breathing slowly to calm himself and focus. He shot his eyes open later, but still he was unnerved.

‎

‎' I survived a wolf attack. I shouldn’t have survived. But I did. Without wounds.  Something's happened to me. Something impossible. Something I can't even wrap my head around!'

‎

‎Even after several minutes in class, his heart raced, his mind spiraled fast. He pretended to listen to the lecture but the instructor's words faded into the background. The thoughts in his mind grew louder.

‎

‎“You. In the back.” the professor called sharply, jolting him out of his thoughts. Wesley panicked when he saw the professor pointing at him. “ Can you explain the law of diminishing marginal returns.”

‎

‎Wesley’s eyes snapped open in shock. He looked around, confused, lost, and anxious.

‎

‎He didn’t know the answer.

‎

‎He slowly rose, almost stumbling out of his seat from the tremendous pressure in the stares peered at him by everyone in class.

‎

‎Wesley felt a cold sweat break on his forehead. 'I hate this day. I hate--"

‎

‎But then strangely, he found the answer!

‎

‎Not from memory, but from sight.

‎

‎He could see a student’s notebook a couple desks ahead. Every word on the page was clear in his sight.

‎

‎Wesley swallowed. He looked towards the middle-aged, bald professor whose wrinkled face calmly spoke of expected failure, wondering if he should give it a try.

‎

‎"Um..." He started, peering at the notebook once again. " The law of diminishing marginal returns states that as one input variable or factor in production increases, there is a point at which the marginal per unit output decreases" Wesley answered, his voice unconvincing.

‎

‎The professor calmly nodded, and said, " Correct, and that factors into the topic at hand..." he continued with the class

‎

‎A short murmur rippled through the class, but the class soon resumed to its learning silence.

‎

‎Wesley sat, frozen, pulse thundering.

‎

‎He shouldn't have seen that far. He shouldn't have been able to read that note at all.

‎

‎If he wasn't sure before, Wesley knew now for sure. He wasn't the same person anymore.

‎

‎And worse, he had no idea what the hell he’d become!

‎

‎...

‎

‎