Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 154

Chapter 154: Chapter 154

Lyra

I blinked so hard I nearly knocked my contact lens out, and I swear for a second, I forgot how to fucking breathe. Because no. No.

There was no way. There was no damn way the universe had the audacity, the absolute fuck-you nerve to put him in my path again, not after everything that happened, not after that party, not after Damon literally threatened to dismber anyone who looked at

too long. I an, what the actual hell?

This boy, this walking red flag of sex and danger and smug grins, was standing right in front of

in the sa damn uniform as , like this was so kind of joke.

Like the universe thought it’d be funny to drop him in my school like a grenade inside a pencil case. And oh my God, he was smiling.

The sa fucking smile. The one he gave

right before he leaned in that night and sniffed

like I was a hot plate of jollof rice. What kind of psycho does that? Who does that at a party?

And now?

Now he had the audacity—the unholy confidence—to look at

like we were friends. Like we had history. Like he knew things about .

And now he was here.

In my school.

"Oh hi, Oga. You’re not on heat today."

That’s what he said.

That’s literally what he said to .

In the hallway.

At 8:17 a.m.

While other students were still drinking Milo and arguing over who stole whose pen.

I stared at him like he’d grown two heads. Or like one of them was already halfway between my legs. Because what kind of psychopath says sothing like that so casually?

Like, bro. Be fucking serious. I just got out of Damon’s car ten seconds ago with my thighs still shaking and my insides basically saying thank you, Daddy, and now you want to pull up and sniff my hormone levels in the hallway?

"Do I look like I’m on heat?" I hissed, crossing my arms and backing up slightly even though my treacherous body was not getting the mo that we hate this boy. No, my body was out here tingling and pulsing and warming up like it wanted a second round of chaos. Bitch. Calm down.

He just grinned like he could hear my thoughts. Like he knew what I was feeling. And that only pissed

off more.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, voice a little too loud, because a few heads turned.

But I didn’t care. I had bigger problems than reputation managent. I had a hot nace standing in front of

with the kind of swagger that made lockers feel like cages and hallways feel like hunting grounds.

He shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets like he hadn’t just turned my entire world into a slow-burn porno.

"I transferred," he said simply. "New school. New prey."

Oh.

Hell.

No.

I felt the blood rush to my face so fast I thought I might pass out, because who the fuck says prey? Who uses predator language before first period? What kind of villain origin story was I trapped in?

"This is a school," I snapped, jabbing a finger into his stupid, broad chest. "Not a fucking hunting ground. So go be creepy sowhere else."

His eyes dropped to my finger. Then to my lips. Then to my chest. And I swear he licked his bottom lip like I was a fucking dessert.

"I like it when you talk like that," he murmured. "All bossy. All bark. I wonder if you bite."

I choked.

Not literally. But almost. Because that voice? That voice? It was sin dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with audacity.

"You’re disgusting," I muttered, turning to leave because I could already feel the heat crawling up the back of my neck and if I stayed one more second I was going to say sothing I’d regret—or worse, sothing I’d moan.

But he didn’t let

walk away. Of course not. Because this boy was a certified problem. A chaotic, sexy, terrible problem.

"What’s wrong, Oga?" he called after , voice low and lazy. "Your Alpha didn’t fuck the brat out of you this morning?"

I stopped walking.

I spun around on my heel so fast I almost tripped, marched back up to him like I was about to throw hands—and maybe I was—but then he leaned down slightly, smirked again, and whispered:

"You sll like him."

I blinked.

"What?" I breathed.

"Your scent," he murmured. "It’s not clean. It’s not pure anymore. You reek of Alpha cum

He said it like it was a complint. Like I should be proud of it. And the worst part? The absolute worst part? My body reacted to it. My skin got hotter.

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, to remind him I had a whole Alpha Daddy who could snap his neck like a pencil and not even flinch—but he didn’t let . Of course he didn’t. Because apparently this boy was allergic to boundaries and full of sin.

"You’ve been fucked," he went on, voice lower now, crueler, like he wanted to carve the truth into

with every word. "And not just once. No, I can sll it on you. He’s been inside you more than once. He’s filled you up. Claid you. Knot or no knot, doesn’t matter. Your body belongs to him now. And yet—"