Page 11 of Inside the Sun

When Martin turns his head, shooting Anzo one of those death glares, I slip the paper into my phone case.

My heart’s pounding. I’m almost sure the note has Anzo’s number on it.

My gaze slides over his posture one more time.

Anzo’s a beta, and I don’t really know how they roll. Never been with one.

I’ve heard they swing three ways: some like omegas, some prefer alphas, some stick to other betas. I’ve never looked into it. Maybe I should?

What does he want, exactly?

Maybe he wants to fuck me.

Maybe he wants me to fuckhim.

If so, he’s gonna be disappointed, because I’m a total bottom.

Still, wouldn’t hurt to have that conversation. Negotiate a little…

I mentally slap myself. Geez, I’m getting way ahead of myself.

It’s stupid. I force myself to chill, calm my breath, and slow my heart rate.

Relax, Sun.

The world of mafia dons and political players is still miles away from the world of second-rate musicians and fresh Instagram models like me.

I’d need a much bigger name to even sit at their table.

Martin pays the bill. We both get up and head out, but as I walk toward the exit, I sneak one last glance at Anzo. I catch his dark eyes, and there’s something in them I can’t quite read.

But really, who can read a guy like that?

***

We get into Martin’s car, and when he turns left, I already know where we’re going.

I've been living on campus for over a week now. I signed up for a few summer courses, not mandatory, just some optional stuff for students who want to get a head start and get used to the environment.

The dorms stay open for people like us. I convinced my parents to drop me off early. I just wanted to get away from home, to start my college days already. I don’t hate my parents, but sometimes it feels like there’s barely anything left connecting us. We drift farther apart every year.

They see the world one way. I see it completely differently.

And the worst part? They’re True Mates! That’s always pissed me off.

I already know I’ll never have that. Fated mates almost never happen in alpha pairs, and I’m only into alphas. Which means I’ll always be chasing something ordinary. No magic. No pull. No cosmic bond. No TM glow.

So yeah, I don’t need that rubbed in my face every time I look at them, while my own future feels so hopeless.

Maybe there’s a perfect omega out there for me, but that’s the problem. I’m just not into them. At all. Would TM magicoverride that? Force me to go for omegas? I doubt it. I’m just wired this way.

Martin stays silent the entire drive, his fingers clenched around the steering wheel.

I don’t say anything either, and I don’t even know what we’d talk about.

He’s painfully predictable. Since he’s graduating from law school soon, he’s already sinking neck-deep into his family’s world: nonstop work, business talk, stiff suits, and boring-ass dinners.

His only real perk is that he’s easy on the eyes. But he doesn’t have that spark. That thing that makes my heart race. That fills my void.

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