I step out of Tyler’s dorm, closing the door behind me as quietly as I can. My hands are steady, my breathing even, my face blank. But inside, I’m seething.Every inch of me is coiled tight, my instincts screaming at me to do something, to fix this, to make them pay. The only reason I’m not already tearing the fucking world apart is because My Omega is curled up in his bed, exhausted from crying.I kept my touch on him until he drifted off, kept my scent thick enough to settle his nerves. Even when I left, he barely stirred, his grip on my hoodie loosening only slightly.I can’t fix this by just holding him. Can’t take away what happened with sweet words and a promise that everything will be okay.Now that I’m out of the room, though?Now, I move.Pulling out my phone, I scroll to my father’s number and press call. It barely rings twice before his deep, no-nonsense voice comes through the speaker.“Landon.” His voice is sharp, clipped. “It’s late.”“I need the jet,” I say, skipping an
The realization sets in fast—he might be slow, but he’s not stupid.He starts shaking his head, tugging at the restraints. “Hey, hey—look, I don’t know what the kid told you—”“Everything.” His mouth snaps shut and I hold his gaze. “I know exactly what you did to him.”He swallows thickly, his skin paling under the dim light. “Listen, Tyler—”My fist meets his cheek before I can even think about it, and his head snaps to the side, a strangled grunt leaving his throat. Before he can recover, I grab his jaw, forcing him to look at me.“You don’t get to talk,” I tell him, my voice still calm, still steady, but carrying a weight that makes his breathing stutter. “You don’t get to say his fucking name.”I listen as his heartbeat spikes. I can smell his fear now, finally cutting through the stench of liquor, and I lean in slightly, my grip on his jaw tightening. “You know what the funny thing is?” I murmur. “I’m not even angry.”He blinks at me, his lips parting slightly, like he was expect
I wake up slowly, my body heavy, my mind groggy, like I’ve been pulled out of something deep and dark. The first thing I notice is that I’m warm—wrapped in something solid, something safe. The second thing I notice is that I don’t know where I am.I blink, my vision blurry for a few seconds before it clears. The dim lighting, the scent in the air—rich, familiar, Alpha—it clicks all at once. Landon’s room.I frown, my brows drawing together as I try to piece together how I got here. The last thing I remember is curling up in my own bed, exhausted from crying, drained from everything I had spilled to Landon. I remember him holding me, murmuring to me, his scent calming me down until I slipped under.But now I’m here.Landon is behind me, his arm heavy around my waist, his body pressed against my back. His breathing is slow and even, steady in a way that tells me he’s deeply asleep.Which is rare. Landon doesn’t sleep like this—never deeply, never long.Something twists in my stomach.I
The second time I wake up, I feel warm. Safe. Sore.Landon’s body is pressed against mine, solid and steady; his arm heavy around my waist like he has no intention of letting me go. His scent—strong, rich, Alpha—fills my lungs, steady and familiar. I sigh, stretching lazily, my body aching in the best possible way. A deep, satisfied groan slips out as I roll onto my stomach, burying my face into the pillow, smiling against the fabric.A low, sleepy hum rumbles from him, and then his lips press against the top of my head. “Morning, baby.” His voice is rough with sleep, deep and possessive, and it sends a lazy shiver down my spine. “How are you feeling?”I hum and turn onto my side so I can look up at him. His blue eyes are clear now, still sharp but missing the dark, unreadable edge they had last night. He’s watching me, taking me in, his fingers tracing idle patterns over my bare hip.“Good,” I admit, stretching my arms above my head before letting them drop back down. “Really good.”
Two Weeks LaterThe second I catch the scent, my stomach drops.Sweet, heavy—too heavy. Tyler’s scent always drives me a little insane, but this? This is different. It’s thicker, more potent, seeping into the air of the Ridgecrest dining hall like a warning bell.I look over, my heart slamming into my ribs as I take in the way Tyler shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his brows pulling together. He’s gripping his fork too tightly, knuckles white, jaw clenched like he’s trying to fight something off. He doesn’t even realize what’s happening yet. But I do. And so does every other Alpha in this damn room.The shift is almost immediate. Conversations drop, heads turn. I hear someone inhale a little too deeply, and a growl rumbles low in my chest before I can stop it. Mine.Tyler’s heat is coming. And it’s coming now.I’m on my feet before anyone else can even process what’s happening, moving to his side, my hand closing around his wrist. He flinches, his silver eyes snapping up to meet min
I wake up slowly, my body heavy and sore, but there’s a warmth that wraps around me like a safety net. It takes a second for the haze to clear, and when it does, I realize exactly where I am.Pressed up against Landon in the nest we built together. His arms are snug around me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the heat of his body is all-encompassing.My heart beats a little faster, and embarrassment washes over me. I never thought I’d be in this position—after a heat, in the arms of an Alpha, marked and claimed. But as I lay there, taking in the quiet intimacy of the moment, I know there’s no one else I would have wanted to be here with.I reach up to touch the mark on my neck. It’s tender, still raw from where Landon’s teeth sank into my skin, but the sensation of it sends a ripple of warmth through me. He’s mine now, and I’m his. That’s what this means. As much as I thought I’d hate the idea of being claimed, something about it feels right. It feels... safe.I sm
Tyler doesn’t notice me watching him.He’s stretched out on a blanket in the grass, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding his book open, completely lost in whatever world he’s reading about. The sunlight filters through the trees, casting a warm glow over his skin, and his curls catch in the breeze, shifting slightly with every soft gust of wind.His glasses slip down his nose.I wait, holding my breath, knowing what’s coming. And sure enough, he pushes them back up with his knuckle without even looking away from the page.Fuck.Something in my chest clenches so hard it’s almost painful. I'm so down fucking bad for him.It’s been two days since his first heat passed, and he’s been soft ever since—softer than I’ve ever seen him. Still tired, still a little clingy in a way that makes my Alpha instincts hum in satisfaction. But mostly, he just seems content.I’ve never seen him like this before. Relaxed, happy, safe. And knowing I’m the reason for it? It does something to me.
I can’t stop smiling.The dinner went better than I ever could have imagined. Landon’s parents—his beautiful Omega mother—were nothing like I expected, and for the first time in my life, meeting someone’s family didn’t feel like stepping onto a battlefield. It felt… good. Easy.And now, back in our nest, wrapped in the quiet safety of our space, I feel light. Content in a way I didn’t think was possible for someone like me. The warmth from earlier is still buzzing under my skin as we step into our nest, and I know I should probably be winding down for the night, but there’s this ache inside me—this need to do something for him.Landon stretches out on the bed, his tie already loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, watching me with a lazy smirk as I crawl toward him. “You’ve been grinning since we left the restaurant.”I shrug, reaching for his tie and tugging it free completely. “Can’t help it.”He raises a brow. “Should I be concerned?”I don’t answer right away. Instead, I
The second Jacob’s father steps into the garden, everything shifts.He doesn’t even have to speak. That man walks with the kind of presence that makes the air around him stand to attention. Jacob straightens in his seat immediately, and Landon tenses like he was waiting for this exact moment. I see the way Jacob’s brows pull slightly, how his thumb briefly brushes mine under the table—a silent apology before he even says anything.“Jacob. Landon,” Richard says, voice smooth but clipped. “May I have a moment?”There’s no question that it’s a command.Jacob stands, eyes flicking to me as he squeezes my hand once. “Won’t be long.”I nod, but it’s tight. My fingers feel a little colder once he’s gone.Now it’s just me. And Tyler.Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.I shift slightly in my seat, crossing my legs, then uncrossing them. My fingers toy with the edge of the linen napkin on my lap. The birds in the trees are too loud. The wind too quiet. Everything suddenly feels like it’s
Tyler looks like he’s been dipped in sunlight.It’s the first thing I notice as he steps out of the car, Landon beside him. He’s glowing, not in the literal sense—no supernatural aura or anything weird—but just glowing. His skin looks clearer, cheeks a little fuller, his whole face pulled into a grin that doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere.There’s something unshakably good about him today, like he finally figured out how to take a full breath again and doesn’t want to stop.I never knew him that well at the Academy, but I knew of him. Everyone did. Tyler Winchester was the kind of Omega that floated through the halls with a quiet confidence that didn’t feel manufactured.He was kind, but not soft. Sharp, but not cruel. Just… steady. Like he’d found the center of his own world and was unapologetically orbiting it.Seeing him now, I get it. I get why Jacob loved him back then, even if it wasn’t the kind of love that lasted forever.He and Landon walk up the path like they’ve done this
I find my father in his office, where he always is when the rest of the house feels like too much. Behind the glass desk, papers stacked with surgical precision, screens scrolling through live feeds from every AOB-affiliated site in the country, he looks like he belongs in a war room more than a home. It fits him. It always has.He looks up when I walk in without knocking. That’s allowed now, apparently. Since everything came to light, the rules are shifting beneath us. They’re still there, just less rigid. More silent understanding, less formal armor.“Jacob,” he says, setting aside the tablet in his hand. “Everything alright?”“No,” I say simply, and his posture straightens just enough for me to know I have his attention. He gestures for me to sit, but I don’t. I stay standing. The weight of what I’m carrying doesn’t want a chair under it.“I spoke to Tyler yesterday,” I start, watching his expression carefully. “We talked about a lot, but there’s one thing he said that stuck.”My f
The car ride back is quiet.Not the kind of awkward silence you get when people are mad or holding something back, but the kind that hangs in the air after too much emotion has passed through a room, leaving everything stripped bare in its wake. The kind of silence that fills your lungs and settles in your chest and makes your skin too tight for your bones.Jacob’s hand is on my knee the whole time, his thumb brushing slow circles through the fabric of my slacks, his pinky just barely brushing my thigh like he’s scared I’ll pull away if he touches me fully.I don’t, but I don’t say much either. I’m not mad, that’s not what this is. It’s not even jealousy anymore, not really. It’s something else. Something deeper. Something I don’t have a name for.Tyler cried when he saw Jacob. Crumpled, really. Fell into Jacob like the reunion broke something in him. And I wasn’t surprised by that—I knew they were close. I expected emotion. But what I didn’t expect was how personal it would feel. How
I let it go for now. I know better than to push Tyler when he’s still sorting through a million things at once. I can practically see the gears grinding in his head. I can see the way he’s holding everything in—questions, emotions, grief, betrayal. It’s all there in his posture. Tight. Guarded. Controlled.But I’m not done yet. Not even close.“I need to tell you the rest,” I say, and my voice sounds quieter now, like even I can feel how fragile this moment is.Tyler lifts his eyes to mine, and for the first time since we walked in, they don’t burn with hurt. Just exhaustion.“It’s about Xavier,” I say, my fingers tightening slightly around Xavier’s hand beneath the table. “What they did to him… the reason we’re here now… it’s bigger than what it looks like.”Xavier’s quiet next to me, but I feel him shift, feel the slight tremble in his fingers. He doesn’t look at Tyler—his gaze stays on the table, shoulders just a little hunched, like he’s bracing for impact even though he doesn’t n
I don’t remember the drive over. Not really.I remember the hum of the engine, the low rumble of tires on the road, and the way Xavier’s hand never left mine the whole way. I remember the way my heart sat like a stone in my chest, slow and sick with nerves. I remember trying to breathe around it. But the second we pulled up outside the little private meeting space arranged by my father’s team, all of that faded into one single, sharp thought:I’m about to lose him.Because no matter how many times I rehearsed this conversation in my head—no matter how many versions I tried to imagine—none of them ended with things going back to the way they were.Tyler was my first real friend. My anchor. The one person who made it feel okay to be small sometimes. And now I’m about to tell him that everything he thought he knew about me was a lie.The building is quiet when we step inside. Sleek and neutral, like the kind of place used for off-the-books meetings and private council visits. The securit
The moment Jacob starts pacing, I know it’s going to be one of those nights.He doesn’t even try to pretend otherwise. Doesn’t try to play it off with that lazy smirk he gives when he wants to pretend he’s got everything under control. Tonight, he doesn’t have it. He’s wearing a threadbare shirt I love on him—one of the few pieces in his wardrobe that doesn’t scream “Alpha heir of a powerful empire”—but the way he’s tugging at the hem, running his hand through his hair every few minutes, chewing the inside of his cheek like it’s a damn snack? It’s obvious.He’s nervous, and if he circles past the fireplace one more time, I’m going to throw a pillow at his head.He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. He’s somewhere else entirely, lost in whatever spiraling train of thought his brain has decided to torture him with tonight. His brows are drawn tight, his jaw clenched, and he keeps raking a hand through his hair like it’ll magically produce answers if he does it enough.I’m curled up on
It’s been two hours since Jacob’s call, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.He sounded… different. Tired, but not just physically. Not like he was exhausted from lack of sleep or overtraining like back at the Academy. This was deeper. Heavier. Like something had been sitting on him for a long time, and only now was he starting to come up for air.The Turner-Alcott family.It didn’t make sense at first. I couldn’t figure out why that name hit me the way it did, like something half-buried in my memory just got kicked loose. It wasn’t just the weight in Jacob’s voice—it was the way he told me to talk to Landon. Not a teacher. Not administration. Landon.Landon’s out on the patio behind our dorm, shirt sleeves rolled up, flipping through a stack of papers for one of his business classes. His legs are kicked up on the table, glasses perched on the edge of his nose—he only wears them when he’s reading for long stretches, and for some reason, the sight of him like that still makes somet
The kitchen smells like cinnamon and coffee and toasted bread, and Xavier’s still chattering behind me while I flip the last of the waffles onto a plate. He’s perched on the counter, legs swinging back and forth, his hair damp from a shower and face clean of makeup for once, not because he forgot it, but because I think today he just wanted to feel simple. Real.He looks good like this. He looks good all the time, but there’s something about this version—barefaced, in one of my oversized sweatshirts, ankles crossed, cheeks flushed with something that’s not stress for once—that just hits different.He’s talking about something he read on one of the gossip threads back at the Academy—some rumor about two bonded Alphas who got into a fight in the dining hall over protein powder or territory or something ridiculous. I’m only half-listening, smiling at the way his voice lifts when he gets worked up, how his hands move when he’s trying to paint the scene for me.Then my phone buzzes on the