Chapter 7

 

Logan's POV

"Get your filthy hands off my stuff!" I yelled, taking an aggressive step forward into the narrow center of our shared dorm room.

My voice echoed sharply against the walls, but the second I moved, the suffocating, heavy pressure of three dominant Alphas trapped in the small, enclosed space slammed down on me like a ton of bricks. My knees wobbled violently, my stomach churned, and my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. My suppressed Omega biology instinctually cowered under the sheer weight of three aggressive Alpha aura fields pushing into the room at the exact same time.

"Stay back, Logan!" James choked out from the floor, thrashing uselessly against the two massive upperclassmen Alphas who had him pinned. His split lip was bleeding heavily, dripping onto the carpet, and his dark hair was matted with sweat. A dark, ugly bruise was already swelling along his high cheekbone. "Don't come near him! Stay away from him, Maxwell!"

Maxwell stood up slowly from the edge of James's bed, casually tossing the bright yellow folder onto the cluttered wooden desk behind him. He smoothed down the lapels of his jacket, looking down at me with a sickening, triumphant sneer that made my blood run cold.

"Here's how this works, Logan," Maxwell said, his voice smooth, slow, and dripping with poisonous satisfaction. "I know exactly what you are. An Omega disguised as an Alpha, hiding in an Alpha-only pack university, is a severe crime under pack law. It is punishable by total exile, immediate stripping of all your athletic achievements, public disgrace, and trial before the council."

Maxwell took two slow, deliberate steps toward me, his heavy leather shoes crunching loudly against the papers scattered across the floor. He reached out a hand, dragging a single calloused finger slowly down the line of my jawline. I flinched, a wave of intense disgust washing over me, but the suffocating weight of his Alpha aura held my body completely frozen in place.

"I won't tell the Dean," Maxwell whispered smoothly, leaning down close enough that I could smell the sour, heavy scent of his pheromones. "On one condition. You belong to me now. You leave James, you pack up every single thing you own, move into my private quarters across campus, and you do every single thing I ask of you without questioning me."

"No!" James roared, thrashing wildly under the two guards with enough sudden force to shift the heavy bed frame. "Maxwell, don't you fucking dare touch him! I'll fucking kill you with my bare hands!"

One of the senior Alphas brutally slammed James's face back down onto the floor, pulling his arms high behind his back until James let out a choked gasp of pain.

"Shut up, James!" I screamed, tears of sheer terror and frustration finally spilling over my eyelashes and running down my flushed cheeks.

I couldn't let James destroy his entire life for me. I couldn't let him get expelled, stripped of his captaincy, or dragged into pack court over my secret. He had a real future ahead of him, and I was not going to let Maxwell drag him into the gutter alongside me.

I forced myself to look directly into Maxwell's cold, calculating eyes, my throat tightening until I could barely force air into my lungs. "If... if I agree to this, you leave James alone? You keep my secret and never speak a word of this to the school board or the Dean?"

"Logan, no! Don't do it!" James begged from the carpet, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate emotion I had never heard from him before. He wasn't acting like the arrogant Alpha who had forced me into a deal weeks ago he sounded completely broken. "Don't listen to him! Logan, please! I'll figure something out! Don't do this to yourself!"

"Deal," Maxwell smirked, a dark, predatory glint flashing in his eyes. "Meet me in the locker rooms inside the athletic complex after evening practice. If you aren't standing there the exact second the clock hits seven, your medical records and inhibitor prescription receipts will be sitting on the Dean's desk by morning."

Maxwell dropped James's phone onto the mattress with a clatter, adjusted his cuffs, and turned around to walk casually out of the room. His two thugs finally released James, throwing one last sneering warning glance in our direction before following their boss down the dim hallway.

The moment the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind them, the suffocating pressure in the room vanished. The remaining air felt ice-cold and thin. I rushed forward immediately, dropping to my knees on the carpet to reach for James.

"James, let me look at your lip"

The second my fingers brushed against his shoulder, James violently shoved my hands away. He pushed himself off the floor, grabbing the edge of the bed to steady his trembling frame. His storm-grey eyes were wide and wild, burning with an explosive mixture of anger, guilt, and sheer, unfiltered panic.

"Are you fucking insane?!" James yelled, his chest heaving as blood trickled down his chin and dripped onto his shirt collar. "You can't give yourself to him! Do you have any idea what kind of monster he is?! Do you have any idea what he will do to you?!"

"I don't have a choice, James!" I screamed back, my voice cracking as hot tears blurred my vision completely. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out the crumpled plastic pregnancy test strip from the pharmacy, and threw it hard against his chest. "I came back here to tell you I'm not even pregnant! It was just a massive hormonal crash from taking double doses of heavy inhibitors during my heat! I came back to tell you we were safe!"

James caught the small plastic strip against his palm. He stared down at the single control line, his entire body freezing in place. A complex, overwhelming wave of profound relief washed over his face, but it was instantly replaced by an even deeper, crushing terror. His fingers trembled violently as he looked up from the test strip to meet my eyes.

"Logan..." James whispered, his voice shaking so hard he could barely speak. "I promised I'd protect you. I promised I'd handle everything so you wouldn't get hurt. Please... don't go to him. We can run. We can leave campus tonight and figure something else out."

"We can't run, James!" I wiped the wet tears from my face with the back of my jacket sleeve, taking a slow step backward toward the exit. "He has physical proof. He has prescription receipts with my name on them. If I don't go to that locker room, he will ruin your life, your family name, and my entire existence before the sun comes up tomorrow. I have to do this."

"Logan, wait! Don't walk out that door!" James yelled, reaching out to grab my wrist, but I turned around and slammed the dorm room door shut between us, sprinting down the hallway as fast as my shaking legs could carry me before he could chase after me.

An hour later, I stood alone inside the empty, dim sports complex locker room.

The entire building was completely deserted after hours, bathed in a heavy, unnatural quiet. The air inside was ice-cold, smelling strongly of industrial bleach, damp concrete, rusted metal, and stale sweat. The long, humming fluorescent lights overhead flickered erratically, casting long, ominous shadows across the rows of dull metal lockers. Every single metallic tick of the large clock hanging on the wall felt like a steady, inescapable countdown to my execution.

My hands were buried deep inside my jacket pockets, my fingers clenching into tight fists to hide how violently my shoulders were shaking.

Behind me, the heavy iron entrance door swung shut on its hinges and locked with a sharp, echoing click.

Maxwell stepped out slowly from the shadowy alcove near the back shower stalls, casually unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt with a triumphant, arrogant sneer stretching across his features.

"Good boy," Maxwell drawled, stepping over the wooden bench in the middle of the room as he approached me. "I knew you'd be obedient when push came to shove. Deep down, Omegas always know their place when an Alpha takes charge."

"Stay where you are," I demanded, forcing my voice to stay as firm as possible, though a high-pitched tremble betrayed my terror. I backed away step by step until my shoulder blades hit the hard, freezing metal of the locker doors. "I did what you asked. I showed up. Now swear to me right now that you won't touch James, that you'll leave him out of your sick games, and that you'll destroy those files."

"James is nothing," Maxwell sneered, closing the remaining distance between us in two rapid, menacing strides. "He's weak, and he never deserved the position he held on the varsity team anyway."

Before I could react or raise my hands to defend myself, Maxwell reached out and grabbed both of my wrists in a crushing, painful grip. He slammed my hands high over my head, pinning me violently against the cold metal lockers. The violent impact rattled the locker doors, sending a sharp wave of pain shooting straight down my spine.

"Now let's see what this little Omega body can really do," Maxwell whispered, a sickening, hungry look taking over his eyes as he leaned his full weight against me.

"Get off me!" I screamed, kicking frantically at his shins and twisting my body with every last ounce of strength I possessed, but his full Alpha strength was completely overwhelming. I was like a ragdoll trapped in his grip.

He completely ignored my frantic kicks, using his free hand to violently rip the top buttons of my shirt open, tearing the cotton fabric down the center. He buried his face straight into the crook of my neck, his hot, heavy breath hitting my bare skin as he tried to inhale my scent and force a permanent collar mark onto me.

A wave of pure, unadulterated terror crashed over my entire body. I thrashed violently against his chest, screaming at the top of my lungs into the empty, echoing room, "Get off! Someone help me! Get the fuck off me!"

CRACK!

A deafening, sharp metallic sound echoed through the locker room like a gunshot.

Maxwell's body went instantly stiff. A muffled, gurgling groan escaped his lips, and his eyes rolled back into his head as his crushing grip on my wrists instantly went slack. A streak of dark blood bloomed along the back of his scalp as his knees buckled beneath him, and his heavy frame collapsed like a sack of wet bricks, hitting the hard concrete floor with a heavy thud.

Breathing heavily in ragged, frantic gasps, my heart pounding so hard I thought my ribs would shatter, I slid down the front of the metal lockers until I was sitting on the concrete floor, staring in absolute, speechless shock at the figure standing directly over Maxwell's unconscious body.

Standing there, holding a heavily dented metal folding chair with wide, frantic eyes, chest heaving for air, and hands trembling uncontrollably, was Owen.