Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 662
Chapter 662: The First Horsemen
Their apartment stunk. It was the smell of Stale beer and fried onions, the kind that crawled into the walls and stayed there because no one cared enough to wash it out.
Noah moved through the cramped kitchen, setting two mismatched plates on the wobbly table. Then he scooped instant noodles into one, and reheated yesterday’s stew for the other.
The boy wiped the rim of his father’s plate with the corner of his shirt, not out of affection, but because if it looked messy, Anthony would complain.
For a moment, Noah just stared at the food.
This was dinner for his father and nothing for himself. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He had a shift soon. The diner didn’t allow staff to eat on the clock.
So he set the spoon down and walked to the living room, where Anthony sat in his sagging recliner, eyes glued to a sports rerun. Beer cans formed a castle around him, a sight that made Noah’s nose crumple in disgust.
Ever since his father lost his job, and then his wife, the man had become a couch potato. He did nothing but sit down drinking, watching TV and complaining about pretty much everything all day long.
“Dinner’s ready,” Noah announced.
Anthony grunted, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Noah placed the plate on the small folding table beside him, then reached for his jacket near the front door. It still smelled faintly of grease and dish soap from last night’s shift. But there was nothing he could do about it
He was just slipping on the jacket when the TV suddenly switched from sports to the news.
BREAKING — LUNARIS ACADEMY PRESS CONFERENCE.
The volume blasted through the apartment.
A reporter appeared on-screen, with Principal Jameson speaking in a split-screen behind her.
Noah paused mid-step, his eyes glued to the screen.
Lunaris Academy was the oldest and most prestigious werewolf academy in the nation. No one ever ignored a scandal from that place.
“What the hell is that?” Anthony muttered, snatching the remote and turning up the volume even more.
“…assaulted a human student, Daisy Fairchild nearly resulted in a drowning incident…”
Noah’s breath hitched. He had seen that clip. It had gone viral and was practically all everyone could talk about.
Anthony suddenly slammed his beer can on the table, startling him. “Unbelievable. One of those mutts nearly kills a human, and she walks away with an expulsion?”
He scoffed harshly. “Total bullshit.”
His father drained what was left of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Back in the day,” Anthony grumbled, “those damn werewolves knew their place. They hid in forests living off scraps. But now, they’re on the news, living like celebrities.”
Noah knew exactly why he hated them so much. His mother had left their family for a werewolf. Anthony never recovered from the humiliation.
He jabbed a finger at the screen, the glare caught in his bloodshot eyes.
“You know why she gets away with it?” he snarled. “Because she’s one of them.” His voice had gone flat with hate. “They’ve wormed their way into everything — positions, power, fancy schools. They’re multiplying, corrupting, and changing people. Mark my words, at this rate there won’t be a truly human soul left. Everyone will carry a scrap of their blood.”
Noah swallowed hard, staring at the floor. He understood his father’s anger but a small part of him wondered what it would be like to have even a fraction of werewolf blood. To be strong, fast, and untouchable. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so weak. So pathetic.
Anthony’s rant escalated, fueled by bitterness and cheap alcohol.
“Your mother used to say they were ‘misunderstood.’ That’s what she called them.” He spat the word like poison. “Misunderstood? Fucking bullshit. In the end she didn’t give a damn about family – the bitch only wanted to suck werewolf dick.”
Noah mentally winced at his father’s crude words. He didn’t need that image in his head, she was still his mother, after all.
Anthony stood, swaying slightly, and walked toward him. He placed a heavy hand on Noah’s shoulder.
“Listen to me, son.”
Noah looked him in the eye.
“Even if you lose in life,” Anthony said, breath thick with alcohol, “don’t lose to a fucking werewolf. That would be the worst thing you could ever be.”
His father’s eyes were hollow and Noah bet he must be going over his life choices. Or so he thought until the man belched and the repugnant smell nearly made him gag.
“That felt good.” Anthony said, relieved. Then he staggered back toward the couch, collapsing into the cushions with a groan.
The man grumbled, “If only someone would wipe those vermin off the surface of the earth.”
Noah didn’t respond. There was no point. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m leaving for work.”
Anthony didn’t acknowledge him. No glance. No nod. Not even a grunt of goodbye.
Noah exhaled through his nose and shook his head. What had he been expecting anyway?
He opened the apartment door and stepped into the hallway, leaving the stale beer and a waste of a father behind him.
“Fuck.” Noah cursed under his breath when he checked his watch. At this rate, he was going to be late. If he had the money, he would have grabbed a cab, but he didn’t, so he stood at the bus stop and prayed the bus showed up fast.
There was no such luck.
By the time he burst through the diner’s back entrance, he was already five minutes late. The warm, heavy smell of frying oil and burnt coffee wrapped around him like a greasy blanket.
No one greeted him, or even looked up. It was rush hour after all and orders were flying, cooks were shouting, with waitresses weaving between the tables like their lives depended on it.
Noah clocked in, tied an apron around his waist, and grabbed a tray. He was just about to start serving when a voice called from behind the counter.
“Noah.”
He turned. Kelly stood there, wiping down the espresso machine with the kind of tired focus that said she’d already lived through a morning disaster. Her eyes never lifted to meet his.
“Manager wants you in the office.”
Noah froze. “Now?”
Kelly nodded without looking at him.
That was when the dread kicked in, sitting right in his chest like a stone. He could tell
something was wrong.
“Okay,” Noah murmured, forcing the word past his dry throat.
He wiped his palms on his apron and headed toward the manager’s cramped office.