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57. Jacob

Author: J. Tarr
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-05 20:38:43

The next day, I tell myself I’m not looking for him.

I tell myself I don’t give a shit where he is, what he’s doing, or who he’s with. I tell myself I have bigger things to focus on, more important things to worry about than some stubborn, sharp-eyed Omega who walks like he owns the damn place and dresses like he wants people to stare.

I tell myself all of this—

Then I see him.

He’s standing next to Tyler of all people, head tilted slightly as he listens to whatever the other Omega is saying. His long curls are shining under the morning light, a soft halo of gold that only makes him look more like trouble, and he’s wearing a skirt again—short, pleated, the fabric brushing against his thighs in a way that shouldn’t make my fingers itch.

I tell myself I’m just looking because he’s new. Because I need to keep an eye on him. Because my father told me to.

But none of those are the real reason.

The real reason is the way something inside me locks onto him the moment I see him. The way my en
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    I need to get the fuck out of here.My body reacts before my brain does, my legs moving on instinct, pushing me away from Jacob, away from the quad, away from the way he looked at me. My heart is hammering in my chest, blood rushing in my ears, drowning out everything except the single, horrifying realization that I lost control.I never lose control.I barely remember weaving through the hallways, my breath coming faster, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. I don’t stop, don’t glance back, don’t risk seeing him again. I just keep going.By the time I reach my dorm, I swipe my keycard so fast that I nearly drop it. The second the door unlocks, I shove it open, step inside, and slam it shut behind me, my back hitting the wood as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe.What the fuck just happened?My hands are shaking and my fucking scent is everywhere.I swallow hard, pushing off the door, dropping my bag onto the floor as I

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    Jacob’s hands plant on either side of my head, caging me against the wood, his body so close that my own instincts go haywire. One hand presses flat against the wood beside my head, the other still gripping my wrist, keeping me in place, keeping me right there as he leans in close.Too close.I suck in a sharp breath, pulse hammering, but I don’t move. Because I can’t. Because this is the closest I’ve ever been to an Alpha and felt it.And gods help me, I feel it.“How do you know?”The question yanks me out of my daze, my breath stuttering. “What?”His jaw clenches, his eyes searching my face like he’s looking for the answer before I can give it. “How do you know, Xavier?”I swallow hard, my pulse roaring in my ears. “I—”He leans in more, and I press back against the door like that’ll do anything to get away from the heat of him, the sheer weight of his presence. His scent is different up close, still masked, still wrong, but I can feel what’s beneath it now, the strength of it humm

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    “Because you’re my mate.”The words slam into me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs, making my entire body go still.No.That—that isn’t possible.Mates don’t exist. They’re a fantasy, a relic of old stories, something people want to believe in but know better than to trust. Bonds happen, sure, but they’re conditioned, nurtured, created—not destined.But I feel it.I felt it the moment Jacob touched me, the moment his voice dropped into that Alpha tone, the moment he scented me and my body gave in before my mind could catch up.It makes no fucking sense.I can’t breathe properly. My pulse is all over the place, my skin feels wrong, too hot, too tight, like I’m on the verge of something I don’t understand. My stomach clenches, my fingers digging into the sheets beneath me as I stare at him, my mind racing in a thousand different directions at once.“No,” I whisper, but it’s weak. It’s wrong.Jacob doesn’t argue. He just watches me, his face unreadable, his body loo

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    I push off my chair so fast it scrapes against the floor, my pulse roaring in my ears, my hands already pulling my phone from my pocket before I can fully process the storm of emotions tearing through my chest. My fingers are tight around the device, muscles tense, breath controlled but not calm—because calm is the last fucking thing I feel right now.Across from me, Xavier is spiraling.I can see it in the way his fingers clench at my blanket, knuckles white, his shoulders curling in on themselves, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. His curls hang over his face, shielding his expression from me, but I don’t need to see his eyes to know.He’s unraveling.Everything he’s believed, everything he’s trusted, has just been ripped out from under him.And they did it.His own parents.My jaw tightens as I press the call button, bringing the phone to my ear, pacing across the room as I wait for the line to connect. I don’t know what I expect—maybe for it to ring a few times, maybe for m

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    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

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    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

  • Knot My Alpha   85. Jacob

    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

  • Knot My Alpha   84. Xavier

    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

  • Knot My Alpha   83. Tyler

    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

  • Knot My Alpha   82. Jacob

    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

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