Marked by the Alpha Team (Luna Merrick) novel Chapter 1

Faster than an Alpha

LUNA

I never meant to start my first day at Blackridge University with a full-out sprint, but the bus was late, the campus was huge, and I had exactly seven minutes to make it to athlete orientation before Coach Ramirez, my new coach, who according to the rumors I’ve heard, was strict and unforgiving, marked me down as unreliable.

That wasn’t happening, not after everything I’d done to get here.

So I ran.

My sneakers pounded the sidewalk, duffel bag bouncing against my hip with every stride I took. My lungs pulled in the cool morning air that was sharp and clean, tasting faintly of pine and something else I couldn’t place. My long dark curls whipped across my face, sticking to the sweat already beading on my golden-brown skin, and I shoved them back impatiently.

It didn’t matter to me what I looked like. It only mattered that I got there on time.

Blackridge was beautiful in a way that made my chest tight, with the old brick buildings that were covered in ivy, wide green lawns, and mountains rising blue and hazy in the distance. It felt like the kind of place where important things happened, and I still couldn’t believe that I actually belonged here.

I was on a full scholarship for track and field, which was a fresh start far away from the cramped apartment and the worried lines around Mom’s eyes every time the rent was due.

I cut across the main quad, dodging groups of students with backpacks and coffee cups. Some of them turned to stare, probably because I was running like my life depended on it, but I didn’t slow down. The athletic complex was on the far side of campus, and the map on my phone said the fastest route was straight across a massive open field.

I hopped a low chain-link fence without breaking stride, and the turf felt perfect under my shoes, springy, and brand-new. The farther I ran, the more the air smelled like fresh-cut grass and something sharper, almost spicy, which was weird, but whatever.

I focused on getting to where I needed to be until I noticed the goalposts towering at both ends which made me realize that this was an empty football field.

Or so I thought.

I was halfway across when voices hit me, deep, loud, and most definitely male. A whole group of guys in black practice jerseys were spread out near the fifty-yard line, stretching, tossing footballs, and laughing like they owned the world. Which, from the size of them, they probably thought they did.

I tried to veer left, but one of them, out of nowhere, stepped right into my path, causing me to skid to a stop with my chest heaving.

The guy in front of me was tall and tan with dirty-blond hair that fell into sharp gray eyes, and there was also a thin scar cutting through his left eyebrow, giving him a permanent half-smirk. He looked like a bundle of trouble with way too much muscle, and that smirk told me that he knew it.

“Lost, track girl?” he asked, his voice low and lazy. “This isn’t your playground.”

I was initially confused on how he was able to guess that I was a track athlete until I looked down at the Blackridge University Track team jacket I forgot I had on, and realized that I was basically announcing myself.

Behind him, the rest of the team had gone quiet, and I felt every single pair of eyes land on me. There had to be thirty guys out here, but only five of them stood out like they were under spotlights.

The one who’d spoken, Ryder, as I had heard someone mutter after he stopped me, folded his arms and waited for me to apologize or back down, like that was ever going to happen, and judging from his teammate’s reaction, he was most probably used to intimidating girls with his height, and looks.

I straightened up, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’m only just taking a shortcut, buddy. Didn’t realize I needed a hall pass to cross grass.”

A couple of low laughs rippled through the group, and Ryder’s smirk widened. “You’re fast. I’ll give you that, but this field belongs to the football team. So maybe stick to the little baby tracks from now on.”

Baby tracks.

The words lit a fire under me. I’d heard stuff like that my whole life, with people telling me I’m too short, too small, and too female to hang with the serious runners, and every time, I’d shut them up by leaving them in the dust.

I looked past Ryder to the end zone which was about eighty yards, maybe ninety, then back at him.

“Tell you what,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Race me to the goalpost. If I win, I get to cut across whenever I want, but if you win, I’ll stay on the baby tracks forever.”

His eyebrows shot up, and the laughs from the rest of the guys only got louder.

From the back of the group, a guy with jet-black hair and storm-gray eyes watched without smiling. He had the vibe of a team captain written all over him, broad shoulders, arms crossed, and a presence that made everyone else shift a little when he moved.

Next to him was a blond with sun-bleached curls and a dimpled grin that made him look like he’d just won free tickets to the best show on campus. His green eyes sparkled with so much amusement it was almost embarrassing.

A bigger guy who had tattoos covering his thick arms, short dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, muttered something that sounded like “This is dumb,” but I ignored him since my pride was on the line.

And then there was the quiet one, who was leaner than the others, and had longish dark brown hair falling over silver-rimmed glasses. His golden eyes never left me, not once, and it was intense in a way that made my skin prickle.

Ryder peeled off his practice jersey and tossed it to the grass. His chest and abs were ridiculous, tan and cut like he lived in the weight room his entire life, not that I was staring.

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