Claimed by the Wrong Alphas
Chapter 61: ‘Alpha’ by force…
CHAPTER 61: ‘ALPHA’ BY FORCE...
Charis
My eyes widened with shock at the nomination.
I whipped around to look at Phil, who wore a satisfied smile that made my stomach churn.
This was a trap. Phil’s apology had been fake; this was a way to bully me. Being Class Alpha would give them access to me no matter how much I try to deny it.
The student who had seconded the nomination—a tall boy with sandy hair, I vaguely recognised from orientation—gave me an encouraging nod that felt more like a death sentence.
Panic clawed at my throat as I turned back to the form mistress and desperately raised my hand.
Janet rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her irritation. "What?"
"I—I don’t want to be nominated," I stammered. "I don’t have what it takes to be a leader. I’m not qualified for this kind of responsibility. I’m just...I’m not good enough for something this important."
Her words came out in a rush, betraying the confidence I’d been trying so hard to project since my arrival at Ravenshore. But at this moment, desperation made me honest in the worst possible way.
"I barely know anyone here," I continued, my voice growing smaller. "I don’t understand things like this, and given my birth situation, I didn’t get a lot of exposure. I’d probably mess everything up and let everyone down. There has to be someone more suitable, someone who knows what they’re doing."
Janet sighed deeply, her expression shifting from irritation to mild exasperation. "Well, if the class nominates someone else and that person wins the election, then you’ll be free of this burden."
Before I could protest further, she turned back to the class. "Any other nominations?"
The silence after the announcement was deafening. I looked around desperately, willing someone, anyone, to speak up, but every face stared back at me with expressions ranging from mild interest to outright amusement.
"C’mon," I whispered under my breath.
"Anyone?" Janet repeated, tapping her fingers on her briefcase impatiently. "Surely there’s someone else who wants to take on this responsibility?"
Still, no one spoke. The silence felt like a weight pressing down on my chest. I could feel eyes on me, I could hear their whispered snickers, their known smirks...they all knew.
In desperation, I shot to my feet so quickly that my chair scraped loudly against the floor. "I nominate Phil Whitmore!"
The words came out of me like it was a lifeline thrown to a drowning person. Phil’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but his smirk never wavered.
Janet sighed again and turned to the board behind her, scribbling ’Eamon Riggs’ on it before turning back to face the class. "Is anyone seconding Phil Whitmore’s nomination as Class Alpha?"
I looked around frantically, pleading with my eyes at my classmates. Hoping someone would raise their hand, that someone would help me escape this nightmare, but not a single hand moved.
"Please—someone?" I called out desperately.
I turned to Phil again, my heart was beating three times as fast as it should. I saw that his satisfied smirk had transformed into something that I could only describe as victory, making me conclude that I’d been right. This had been planned.
I tried to breathe.
Did Phil know my secret, too? Was this Peter’s work? Or maybe Headmistress Vale’s way of disposing of me. My hands were shaking, and I could feel sweat beading on my forehead despite the classroom’s cool temperature.
This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be trapped like this, not when staying invisible was the only thing that would keep me safe.
I turned to the form mistress again. "This isn’t fair," I said desperately. "They all planned this."
Jaent didn’t even glance at me. "It seems you all want to make my work easier," she observed dryly. "Well, I’m down for it, too."
"Ma, please..." I begged again, but she ignored me like I didn’t exist.
"Alright," Janet continued. "If there are no other nominations, and since we have only one candidate for the position, let’s still vote, to make sure this is free and fair." She paused for a minute. "Those of you in support of voting Eamon Riggs in as Class Alpha, raise your hands."
Every single hand in the classroom went up without hesitation, most of the student even had two of their hands up, creating a sea of raised arms that felt like a thousand accusatory fingers pointing directly at me.
"No...no, no, no," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, please..."
"Splendid," Janet murmured, not bothering to look at me, who was having a complete mental breakdown. "Your new Class Alpha for the first-year students is Eamon Riggs from Duskveil Pack."
"Ma, please," I begged, but she didn’t care.
After packing up her stuff inside her bag, she turned to address me. "Come to my office at noon to get further instructions and an access card to this classroom." She closed her bag. "Good luck, everyone, and try not to fail spectacularly. Class Alpha, when you see Rhett Thatcher, ask him to see me at the end of the day’s class."
And with that, she walked out of the classroom. As soon as the door closed, Phil rose to his feet with a broad smile on his face.
"Let’s give it up for Eamon, our new Class Alpha!"
The classroom erupted in applause and cheers that were mockery. I could see the malicious glints in several students’ eyes, the same look I’d grown used to seeing back in my pack. They weren’t celebrating me; they were celebrating the beginning of my slavery.
Some of them even mockingly called me Alpha Eamon or Boss Rigs.
I walked towards Phil, trying desperately not to cry, instead focusing on the anger burning inside me. My voice shook as I confronted him.
"You did this on purpose, why? What have I ever done to you that you had to connive with everyone to get me elected when I didn’t want it?"
Phil laughed, "I thought you’d be excited," he said with a false sincerity. "Being Class Alpha is a privilege. I bet this is the first time you’ve ever risen to something of importance like this. Isn’t that true, bastard boy?"
The entire class collapsed into laughter at his words. The scene pushed memories of being laughed at by all the girls Darian had slept with in our pack.
"Why are you doing this?" I said through gritted teeth. "Why won’t you leave me alone?"
"Because you don’t deserve to be here," Phil said with a broad smile. "You’re a bastard, Eamon. Look around you, everyone here is a legitimate child of Alphas, and it bothers me that the school decided to let someone like you stay back. I hate it. Plus, all you’ve done is parade yourself with the Student President and First-year Coordinator. Who do you think you are?"
"This is ridiculous," I sighed. "You’re jealous of me because I’m friends with Marcus and Kael?" I purposely called out their first names to show the level of familiarity I had with them, but that backfired.
"No one is jealous that you’re being passed around," Phil returned. "Don’t worry, we don’t envy you. I hate that I have to breathe the same air as you. I hate to look up and see you. Take it from me, Eamon, if I were you, I would leave quietly. You don’t know how many eyes are watching you. They all hate you."
I took a step back, suddenly afraid. "Hate me? What did I do?"
"If you survive long enough, you’ll find out, or there’s an option to quit voluntarily at least while it is still possible."
"And if I don’t?" I held his gaze.
"Oh!" he laughed, "I’ll make you leave soon enough. Don’t worry about that, bastard."
The class echoed with mocking laughter again until Phil lifted his hand.
"Guys," he called out. "Quiet for a second."
The noise died down immediately as they all turned to him expectantly.
Phil closed the distance between us, easily towering over me by an inch. "I heard your dad denied you as his son when he came here a few days ago, and that your mother was some lowly, desperate omega trash, just like you. I guess your father was trying to save face by not acknowledging you at all."
The words were not supposed to affect me because I was Eamon, and I wasn’t an Omega to start with, but the fact that he was unknowingly describing my real situation—my father’s rejection and his desire to sell me off- made it hurt even more.
I stared at Phil, feeling nothing but pure, burning hatred coursing through my veins. This was precisely the kind of cruelty I’d hoped to escape by coming to Ravenshore, but it seemed that bullies existed everywhere.
The bell rang, cutting through the tension in the classroom and signalling the beginning of our first lesson. The door opened, and a man with bourgeois eyeglasses swept in.
"Settle down!" he called out.
Without another word, I turned and walked back to my seat.