Claimed by the Wrong Alphas

Charis

I stared in horror when we arrived at the parking lot.

Three large buses sat waiting for us, their engines rumbling ominously.

A camping trip. We were going on an actual camping trip.

Who on earth goes on a camping trip as an orientation exercise? I wondered desperately.

This wasn’t what I’d signed up for when I’d forged those documents and cut my hair off.

A day of tests, maybe some physical challenges—not an overnight wilderness adventure where I’d have to sleep in close quarters with other students.

I felt my wolf stir, probably in distress, and for the first time since I discovered that I would never be able to communicate with my wolf, except to feel and know it was there, I felt scared.

There was no one whose opinion I could seek.

I turned to Rhett, who was standing next to me with that infuriating smile plastered on his face as he scrolled through his phone.

"How long will we be gone?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.