Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man

It was 8 p.m.

Still no sign of Sara.

I checked my phone for the hundredth time—nothing.

My stomach churned. My nerves were starting to fray.

What the hell was I supposed to do?

Sitting around wasn't an option, so I grabbed my male disguise again—though, this time, I skipped the stupid boob-squashing wrap. Instead, I threw on a loose hoodie, some jeans, and tucked my hair into a beanie.

I needed air. I needed to do something.

So I decided to head across the street to Walmart—pick up some groceries, check around for Sara, and hopefully, calm my damn nerves.

But the moment I stepped outside my room, a chill ran down my spine.

The hallway? Empty.

No murmuring voices. No late-night students hanging out or passing by. Not a single sound.

The front reception desk?

Deserted.

The old woman who ran the place was gone.

And when I stepped outside, it only got worse.

The streets were completely deserted.

Not a single soul walking. No casual groups of friends chatting outside. Nothing but the dim, flickering glow of streetlights casting eerie shadows on the pavement.

My gut twisted.

It was only 8 p.m.

What kind of place shut down this early?

I hurried toward Walmart, my footsteps loud against the dead silence.

Inside, I finally saw another person—the cashier.

A guy in his late twenties, looking bored as hell—until he saw me.

Then his whole demeanor changed.

He straightened, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"You're new," he muttered.

It wasn't a question.

I nodded.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"No wonder."

No wonder what?

I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off.

"Listen, just hurry up, alright? I'm about to close."

I frowned. "Close? Your sign says 24 hours."

His lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"I'm not closing closing." His voice dropped lower. "But you don't wanna be here when the next shift takes over."

A heavy silence settled between us.

Something about the way he said it—the weight behind his words—made my stomach drop.

I was about to press him for answers when—

The door slammed open.

Loud voices, obnoxious laughter—

Reed's gang.

They strolled in, their presence immediately sucking the air out of the store.

The cashier stiffened so hard I thought he might faint. His hands trembled slightly as he busied himself straightening already perfectly aligned candy bars.

I quickly ducked my head, pretending to browse the shelves.

But it was too late.

I felt eyes on me.

I glanced up—and locked eyes with Reed.

For a split second, I saw it.

That eerie, unnatural glow.

A yellowish gleam that flickered before fading back to normal.

This time, he didn't look away.

His frown deepened, his sneer curling in disgust.

And that was all it took to capture the attention of the rest of his gang.

The girl—the one whose outfit I secretly admired—smirked as she followed his gaze.

"Well, well," she drawled, tilting her head.

"Look who it is. The pretty boy."

Shit.

I might have liked the girl's outfit, but I sure as hell didn't like her attitude.

I ignored them.

Kept my head down.

Focused on picking up the last few things I needed.

But no matter how much I tried to act normal, I could still feel Reed's eyes on me.

The weight of his gaze was unrelenting, heavy.

Like a predator sizing up prey.

And then I noticed it for real.

His eyes.

Not a trick of the light. Not a weird reflection.

They were yellow.

Not just a golden-brown shade—actual yellow.

Like a cat's eyes in the dark.

My instincts screamed at me.

Get out.

I listened.

Abandoning the rest of my shopping, I grabbed what I had and rushed to the cashier.

The guy behind the counter looked like he was about two seconds away from pissing himself.

Guess I wasn't the only one scared.

Meanwhile, Reed's gang had moved to the liquor aisle, their loud voices filling the store.

But even with them out of sight, I still felt watched.

A presence.

Something unseen, yet suffocating.

I forced myself not to look around.

Just focus. Just pay. Just leave.

The cashier's hands were shaking as he bagged my stuff, stealing nervous glances toward the liquor aisle.

He finished fast. Too fast.

And then—he grabbed his jacket.

I frowned. "Why are you leaving?"

He barely spared me a glance before jerking his head toward the liquor aisle.

"One of them handles the night shift," he muttered.

My stomach dropped.

Oh.

So that's what he meant earlier.

I nodded slowly. I finally understood.

I took my bag and stepped toward the exit.

He did too.

For a second, I stupidly hoped he was going in the same direction as me.

He wasn't.

The second we stepped outside, he turned the opposite way without a word, his pace brisk, his shoulders tense.

I cursed under my breath.

Hated how stupid I felt for wanting company.

Hated how my skin crawled as I stood alone in the cold air, gripping my grocery bag too tight.

Hated the fact that I was scared.

Being scared was always his thing.

My twin's thing.

Not mine.

But now—now I understood what he meant all those times he said he was afraid.

I understood it too damn well.

As I started walking toward the boarding house, the streetlight flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then it stabilized.

And when it did—he was there.

Leaning against the pole.

Staring straight at me.

Reed.

And fuck, he was furious.

My pulse spiked.

What the hell?

How did he—?

No. Nope. I wasn't even going to try to figure that one out.

It didn't matter how he got there so fast. What mattered was how the hell I was going to get out of this.

Without blowing my cover.

Without ending up dead.

Because let's face it—if there was even the slightest chance that this guy was involved in my twin's disappearance, I needed to tread carefully.

His eyes—those same unnatural, glowing yellow eyes—locked onto mine, pinning me in place like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

I should have kept walking.

Should have ignored him.

Should have pretended I didn't notice him standing there, looking like something straight out of a fucking nightmare.

But I didn't get the chance.

"Who told you you could leave?"

His voice was low. Deep.

And laced with pure menace.

God help me.

If his voice hadn't been so damn terrifying, I might have actually swooned.

Yeah. See my life?

I was standing in front of a potential psychopath, mentally swooning over his stupid sexy voice.

What the actual fuck was wrong with me?

I needed to focus.

Reed could be a bully. A murderer. A literal monster.

And here I was, busy appreciating his voice like some lovesick idiot.

But can you blame me?

I'd spent my entire life with a geeky golden boy—my twin.

He had been enough.

He was.

And maybe that's why I always liked the wild ones.

But Reed?

Reed wasn't just wild.

He was danger.

Danger wrapped in leather and smirking like the devil himself.

And I had to remember—I wasn't myself right now.

I was Clause. A guy.

And from the way Reed looked at me?

He definitely didn't look gay.

I forced myself to stop. To meet his gaze.

He didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Just stood there, watching me.

The street was empty. The air was too still.

And suddenly, the silence felt wrong.

Like the whole world was holding its breath.

Okay.

Why the hell was he giving me creepy stalker vibes right now?