The Alphas Love Triangle

PROLOGUE

Harper's [POV]

Tears blur my vision, hot shame pouring down my cheeks as I turn off the freeway.

Despite crying, I find my exit. My left cheek burns as I drive into the night, the navigation on my phone guiding me to the one place I can escape.

Away from him.

A few miles away, the town of Aurora waits for me, buried in the lush woods of the northwest, tucked away in a corner of paradise.

I probably shouldn't have driven in the middle of the night, spurred by my emotions.

But at least I made it here in one piece.

I booked a stay at the Aurora Inn, fueled by fear and betrayal that pierces my chest.

Most people come for a vacation.

I'm visiting out of desperation.

He says I've been here before, and that I hated it. We went together a while back, and I vowed to never return.

I don't believe him for one fucking second.

This is why, after his hand slapped my face, quick and deadly, I booked my trip on a whim, my hands shook as I used my laptop to make a reservation.

Hours earlier, he had been sobbing, begging for forgiveness behind the locked door of the bedroom as my mind went on autopilot.

With four grand drained from my bank account, I have a weeklong stay at Aurora Inn.

I don't regret it. It's long overdue.

But I can't stop the hiccupping sobs as I drive.

I deserve this, I try to remind myself through the tears.

I deserve a week to figure out my life and to enjoy what others would kill for.

I catch glimpses of the town, quaint shops, and restaurants illuminated by streetlamps, and I know I will love it here.

Just as my tears subside, my phone loses signal.

The navigation app dies but I'm already at my destination, pulling into the long stone driveway.

Even at night, Aurora Innis a spectacular sight, and a small gasp escape my lips as I take it all in. The pictures on the website don't do the place justice.

The renovated Victorian mansion sits on a manicured field, surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges and guarded by an iron gate. Light peeks through the delicate French windows on all four floors, illuminating the cream walls and grey trim.

It's breathtaking and better than I could have imagined.

I'm staying here.

And, to put the past to rest, I turn off my cell phone.

I already blocked his number and made it out of the apartment with my necessities.

Even with the lack of signal, I don't want to risk any calls from him.

From now on, I don't need my cell phone.

I just need the Aurora Inn.

The gates open for me automatically and I follow the wood parking sign that leads me to the side of the mansion, giving me a lovely view of the woods.

The gardens are around here, too. They're a popular tourist attraction, and the photos on the website were breathtaking.

I can't wait to see it in the daytime.

I packed my suitcase in minutes, desperately throwing what I could into it. If there's anything I'm missing, I can always wander through town, which is only minutes away.

Every step I take towards the white French double doors is a step towards freedom.

A new chapter.

A reprieve from the hell that has been the last two years of my life.

And as I swing the front door open, taking in the view of the furnished front room, it feels like I'm finally coming home.

Harper's [POV]

It's like I've stepped back in time.

There's a reception desk in front of me made of dark mahogany wood with a vintage multi-colored glass lamp sitting on the surface. Behind the desk against the wall is a grandfather clock, the pendulum swinging back and forth in a steady rhythm. The walls are cream, matching the outside of the house, and dark red curtains surround the arched windows. In the opposite corner is a lit fireplace, the warmth filling the area? Love seats with cream upholstery and dark wooden trim surround the fire.

It's paradise.

Except for the middle-aged Beta woman that's staring up at me from the desk, her mouth open in shock.

Just like that, my insecurities bubble to the surface.

She's looking at the scar.

She's looking at my scar, the mottled pink line that starts at my eyebrow and drags down my cheek. No one has ever openly gaped at me like this before, but I didn't have time to put on concealer.

"Hello?" she breathes, her voice more a question than a greeting.

But I won't let this strange woman make my night any worse.

No, I'm here to take care ofmyself.

"Hi," I greet her, placing a grin on my face, hiding the despair that threatens to rise to the surface. Stare at me all you want; you won't ruin this for me. "I have a reservation under Harper Chapman."

The room I booked, despite it being the cheapest, still cost a fortune.

I can't wait to see it, though. I'm looking forward to the canopy king bed and reading nook that overlooks the property. I just need to spend the next week in solitude, relaxing in luxury.

"Harper?" the Beta woman repeats, her grey eyebrows scrunched. "Chapman?"

I stare at her for a moment in silence, the only sound the faint swaying of the clock's pendulum.

Either this woman has the worst social skills in the world, or I'm losing my mind.

"Yes," I say slowly, opening my purse to take out my wallet. I hand her my identification card and credit card. "Here."

She takes both and studies them, turning them over incredulously.

I stand there awkwardly as she stares at my cards for far too long and then finally turns to the sleek desktop computer. Electronics look out of place from the rest of the room, breaking the illusion that I'm in the early twentieth century.

As she stares at her screen, her face only grows more anxious.

I shift on my feet, uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?" I finally blurt out, and she stops to glance at me. Finally, her face evens out and she sighs.

"No, Miss Chapman, there's not," she says carefully. "But if you'll excuse me a moment, I will be right back."

I'm even more puzzled as she stands and leaves the room, walking towards the fireplace and turning a corner.

She leaves me alone with the clock and crackle of the logs as my only companions.

I try not to panic.

Maybe there's something wrong with my card. Maybe they don't have a room for me.

Where will I go, then?

A muffled male voice sounds above me, followed by the voice of the Beta woman behind the counter.

Then, the voices are silent.

The clock chimes so loudly I jump.

It's midnight.

And I'm exhausted.

I want to rest in the canopy bed. I want to bury myself under the covers and not resurface for a week.

Sighing, I walk to the inviting loveseat and sink into the cushions, letting the warmth of the fireplace wash over me.

Please let there be a room.

The woman is gone for a ridiculously long time and as I wait, I focus my gaze out the window, staring into the darkness.

He won't find me here.

Hecan't.

I took my laptop with me and he doesn't have the login to my bank account.

Which is what started our fight in the first place and what put the outline of his handprint on my cheek.

So please, for the love of God, just let there be...

"Miss Chapman?" a low voice asks, and I jolt out of my half-asleep state. I turn my head, following the voice, and...

Oh.

Holy hell.

The woman from earlier is nowhere to be found. Instead, she's been replaced by a pale, bleach-blonde Alpha, with cheekbones so high and a jawline so sharp it's ridiculous.

His icy blue eyes are piercing, and he cocks an eyebrow as he stares at me from the front of the room.

Jolting up out of the loveseat, I move my hair out of my eyes and face him. "Yes?" I ask, careful not to let him know how he affects me.

He takes a step closer, and it takes all my willpower not to cower.

He's massive. He's easily a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me.

And dressed in a black button-up and fitted black trousers, he looks like the devil.

Every instinct in me screams to run away, but I'm frozen in a mixture of fear and curiosity.

His full lips pull up into a smirk, and a chill runs down my spine.

He's looking at me like I'm prey which is ridiculous and inappropriate.

I'm a Beta. With my light brown hair and brown eyes, there's nothing about me physically that stands out, unless you count the pink line that cuts down my face.

It's not a very attractive feature.

Alphas rarely flirt with Betas. They're too occupied with their Omegas and are usually part of a pack.

His behavior towards me is not normal at all.

He takes another step forward, his low voice murmuring something, but I'm hypnotized by a rush of pepper and citrus. His scent.

God, when was the last time I've smelled an Alpha?

Even to Betas, their aroma is heavenly, and goosebumps prick at my arms as he floods my senses.

He's fucking mouthwatering.

Back to reality, Harper, I chide myself.

It's midnight, I'm exhausted, and I still haven't even seen my room.

And when he takes another step towards me, the fireplace illuminating the icy hue of his eyes, I flinch back with fear.

His smirk disappears, and his lips form into a thin line as I crane my neck to look up at him.

"We're upgrading you," he mutters, and I frown at his sudden mood change. He says "upgrade" like it's a dirty word, but I'm too tired to question his attitude.

And more than a little frightened.

Weakly, I nod, hoping he'll leave so the woman can finish helping me.

But I have no such luck.

Instead, he reaches out, motioning towards my suitcase, and I take another step away from him, nearly losing my balance.

I don't feel safe with this man.

I don't feel safe with any man right now.

And he must sense it, because he looks at me curiously.

"Something the matter?" he asks quietly. His brow furrows as he stares at my face, at thestupid scar.

Does no one in Aurora know how to be subtle?

Harper's [POV]

I hate the damn thing. My face burns from embarrassment. I'm tired, and this stupidly handsome Alpha is staring at me like I'm a disfigured freak.

"What happened?" he whispers, but it's as if he's asking himself, not me.

Which makes absolutely no sense.

But my anxiety bubbles over, and I've had enough of the weirdness for tonight.

"A car accident," I say, my voice wavering. I will not cry in front of this stranger. Not after I've come this far. "Not that it's your business."

He grows still. "A car accident," he deadpans.

What is going on?!

"Yes," I hiss. "A car accident."

The man is giving me the same look the receptionist gave me, one of suspicion and disbelief, and I want to tear my hair out.

Why can't I just go to my room? I don't want the upgrade. I'd rather never see this Alpha again, and I'll sleep on the loveseat for the next week if it means he will go away.

"Alright, Harper," he says with a sneer, and this time, he tugs my small suitcase from my hand. "I'll show you to your room."

He flashes me a grin, one that doesn't meet his eyes, and I cringe.

Why did he say my name like that?

But I follow him all the same, his essence of spice and rich citrus caressing my senses.

Damn him.

He shouldn't smell so good. Not after the way he talked to me.

As we make our way into the living room, I'm grateful he offered to take my suitcase. The light wood staircase that leads to the second floor is beautiful, but it would be a hassle to lug my bag up those steps.

"Do you work here?" I blurt out, following him as he takes the stairs.

Of course, he does! Why else would he take your bags?

"No," he says simply as I struggle to keep up with his pace.

My brow furrows.

"No?" I repeat as we reach the top of the stairs. He stops abruptly in front of me, and I lose my balance, stumbling into him.

He turns and catches me with one arm, and I end up pressed against his chest for one terrifying moment. Embarrassment floods my cheeks as he lingers a second too long, his hand steadying me. His scent envelops me once again, and I do my best to not let it affect me.

Contrary to what I expected, his momentary touch is welcomed, even comforting.

It doesn't make me instantly recoil, like when he touched me.

But the shame does, and I quickly snap out of my stupor.

"Sorry," I mutter, staring at his massive chest, which must be nothing but hard muscle. I wonder if he's just as sculpted underneath...

I'm exhausted, and my brain is haywire.

The Alpha looks down at me as if he read my mind, and his crooked grin returns.

"You should watch your step," he chides, amused. "Are you always this clumsy, Harper?"

But before I can answer, he walks away with my suitcase and I'm left trailing after him.

"Why do you say my name like that?" I mutter, hurrying to keep up with him. He takes a quick left down a hallway, then up two more flights of narrow stairs, and I almost get lost trying to keep up.

He doesn't reply, and I busy myself with taking in my surroundings, doing my best to ignore his tantalizing scent.

Brass sconces light the cream-colored walls, and I catch my reflection in the silver antique mirrors.

I look worse than I thought and I'm underdressed. The oversized sweatshirt and light baggy jeans clash with the elegance of the mansion.

Perhaps that's why the receptionist looked at me funny.

And maybe that's why the Alpha is glancing at me with a frown. He's stopped in front of a white door with a brass handle, his attention entirely focused on me.

"To answer your question from earlier," he says, "I don't work here. I own this place."

Oh.

Interesting.

"Well, thank you for the upgrade," I say awkwardly. "You didn't have to do that."

There's something still off about the way he's looking at me, and I don't think it has to do with my scar.

He pulls a key out of his pocket and hands it to me. Our fingers brush for a moment, his cool hand against mine, and my heart thuds in my chest.

I clear my throat, hide my reaction, and examine the key. It's intricate, with a unique design, that matches the lock on the door.

"Thank you," I murmur, but he continues to stand there. I can feel his eyes watching me and it takes all my willpower not to snap at him.

Just go away, please. I've had enough of crazy men for the rest of my life.

But before I can open the door, something gently rustles around my calves.

"Mrow."

I look down to see a furry black creature circle me and then plop down on my sneakers. The cat is well-fed, and his round face gazes up at me, green eyes bright with interest. He sports a white mustache, giving him a regal look.

He yawns, showing off glorious fangs and a tiny pink tongue.

"That's Wilson," the Alpha confirms, and a low purr sounds from the feline's chest. "He's around here a lot."

"Hi Wilson," I say softly, then shuffle my feet so he moves off me. He takes the hint, but merely plops inches from my sneakers on the wooden floor.

"I'm allergic," I murmur as Wilson rolls onto his back, exposing a glorious rotund stomach. "But I think it will be fine."

"Allergic?" he repeats, frowning. He tilts his head, and his icy eyes regard me curiously. "You're allergic to cats?"

Why is everything I say so difficult to comprehend?

"Yes," I confirm, turning the key but struggling with the lock.

I just want this night to be over.

Wilson blinks up at me, watching intently as the damn key won't budge.

My face flames as the Alpha leans over me, his hand covering mine. "Like this," he murmurs, his voice inches from my ear. "It hasn't been used in a while, so it might get stuck. You need to work it just right, so it opens."

Okay.

It's time for this guy to leave because my reaction to his words is embarrassing.

Thank God I'm not an Omega because he would scent just how affected I am by him, regardless of how strange he is.

Together, we open the door, my face still burning.

But that embarrassment fades away as soon as I see where I'm staying.

This room wasn't even on their website.

I take a step inside and my breath catches.