Chapter 55 Prank
Phoebe
“Don’t mess with me, Adonis.”
My knees went weak when I saw Adonis’s panicked reaction. If I ended up pregnant, my dad would literally kill me.
The thought of walking around with a pup bump—maybe even twins or triplets—sent chills down my spine. No way I could be a teen mom still rocking my Livingstone uniform or munching popcorn on the couch 'cause my belly’s in the way.
“Hahaha… your face is priceless.”
“Why the hell are you laughing?” I snapped at him.
Seriously? He was laughing while I was having a full-blown panic attack. His cheerful giggle only made my headache worse. I didn’t even bother rinsing the soap off—I just moved away from the shower.
“Hey,” he called.
Adonis was holding something. It was white, kinda see-through, and shiny under the bathroom light. It looked crumpled, probably from him squeezing it. I knew exactly what it was.
“You looked so freaked out. Relax, Phoebe. I’m not stupid.”
I leaned back against the wall, annoyed. What the hell was going through his head, pulling a stunt like that? And wait—why did he even have a cndm in the bathroom? Suspicious.
“I’ve been waiting for you... FYI.” He turned the water off. His voice echoed in the tiled room. “I saw you heading for the showers from training. Figured you’d be here.”
“Great instinct, terrible prank. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Apparently, Finley had told him to always keep a cndm on him. I felt betrayed—of course those two were in sync. They were friends, after all.
Adonis offered to “make it up to me” by helping wash my body. I refused. That was way too risky. If he touched me, things could escalate fast. Our inner wolves had zero chill.
On the way back to the room, I stayed quiet while Adonis walked beside me in his awkward, apologetic mode. He said sorry for “the other side” of him—whatever that meant. I had a feeling I’d need an endless supply of patience if I was going to survive around him.
Adonis was unpredictable.
And I liked it.
Okay, more than liked. I wanted him.
I grabbed a clean sleeveless tee and underwear—literally the last decent ones I had. My laundry pile was out of control, so I’d have to wash early tomorrow. Hayden had scheduled practice at 9 AM sharp.
I picked up Tyra’s blanket off the floor and tucked it back around her. She shifted a little and mumbled something in her sleep. I smiled. Having a friend like Tyra felt... good. Maybe we’d actually become close.
The last time I had a sleep-talking friend was in sixth grade—Stephanie, Gamma Ryan’s daughter. We were inseparable until her family left the pack. Her dad found his second chance mate in another pack and got obsessed. I never heard from her again.
Maybe I do need a best friend like that again.
Tyra rolled over and draped her arm across my stomach. She smiled in her sleep and mumbled again. I smiled too, feeling kind of warm inside.
Maybe this was the start of something real.
My phone alarm went off at six. Ugh. I hadn’t slept nearly enough, but if I didn’t do laundry now, I’d be stuck wearing my tomato-stained practice jersey tomorrow. So, zombie mode it was—I dragged my body down to the laundry room.
I wore Phoenix’s oversized hoodie and the most random pair of shorts I’d found at the top of the laundry pile. The hallway mirror gave me a nice reality check: panda eyes, chapped lips, and a marshmallow sticker stuck to the chest of my hoodie. Real cute. Cover girl material right here.
Finley was already there, chilling on top of one of the washers, scrolling on his phone. He had on grey sweats and a black oversized tee—classic Finley, and somehow he still looked annoyingly good.
“Morning,” I muttered, dumping a bunch of barely-hanging-on t-shirts into the washer.
He looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Sleeveless tee with a cowboy cartoon?”
I shrugged. “I make bold fashion choices.”
He laughed. “You always wear loud, chaotic stuff. Ever tried soft colors for once?”
Still sorting my underwear, I shot him a look. “My life’s already complicated enough—I don’t need boring clothes too.”
He pulled his shirt down, smirking. “Me, on the other hand—black, white, grey. Calm. No drama.”
“Sounds so you,” I replied. “So I guess we’ll never catch you in a bright red leather jacket or a hot pink button-up?”
“I’d rather go naked.”
I snorted. “Noted.”
We chuckled, then got back to sorting laundry. Somehow, we ended up arguing about ripped jeans. I love them. He said they’re just overpriced holes sold by marketing geniuses.
“Some people say fashion’s art, you know.”
“Then I’m a minimalist painter. And you? You’re a possessed expressionist.”
Before I could clap back, we heard voices from the main room. Loud. A man’s voice—deep, commanding—followed by Hayden’s, tight with emotion. They weren’t exactly yelling, but it was not a casual conversation.
Finley and I shared a look. “Abandon laundry?”
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
We snuck toward the living room, stepping carefully. There, in the middle of the space with giant windows and morning light pouring in, stood two Alpha wolves: Hayden and an older he-wolf with silver at his temples and an aura that screamed danger. He was basically Hayden, just aged up and more terrifying.
“I’ve already told you—I’m not marrying Lily,” Hayden said. His face was set, voice flat but ready to explode.
The he-wolf stepped closer. His tone was sharp. “This was decided for your future. For the good of our pack.”
“Our pack?” Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “Or your pride, Alpha Truman?”
Wait—Alpha Truman? My brain froze. Finley looked at me, alarmed.
“Lily isn’t my mate,” Hayden said, his voice lowering. “And I won’t force myself.”
Alpha Truman stared him down, the pressure in the room thickening like a storm cloud. “Then who is your mate?”
Hayden said nothing. But his silence was deafening. And then, Alpha Truman followed his gaze.
And it landed on me.
My heart. Literally. Stopped. (Okay, not really. But it felt like it.)
Alpha Truman’s stare was ice-cold, dissecting me like a bug under a microscope. I felt exposed even under layers of hoodie and shame. Finley subtly stepped in front of me, protective as hell.
“That one? The boy?” Alpha Truman growled. His voice sent chills down my spine.
Hayden didn’t answer. But the way he stood—defensive, protective—was an answer. He was ready to throw down for me.
I took a step back. “I—I’ll just head back to the laundry room.”
“She’s a girl, Dad… Phoebe—” Hayden started, but I was already walking away, heart pounding. Finley followed fast, silent and quick.
“Phoebe, wait—”
I turned on him as we got back to the laundry room. “What the hell was that? Why did he look at me like that? And why didn’t Hayden deny it?!”
Finley looked at me, serious. “You know Hayden always has a plan.”
I shook my head. “I’m not ready for this.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder—gentle, steady. “No one ever is. But sometimes... fate shows up earlier than expected.”
I sat down on the washing machine, staring at my unfinished pile of laundry.
Last night, I almost had a heart attack over a condom prank from my unstable mate, Adonis.
Now I’m suddenly part of an Alpha arranged mating meltdown, facing the possibility of being Luna—which, let’s be real, is way above my current pay grade—and maybe… just maybe, got claimed as a mate by the coldest guy I’ve ever met.
Good morning to me, huh?