The Omega Who Shouldn't Exist ---The Scent I Can't Hide

 I arrive at Mooncrest University with one bag, one lie, and enough suppressants to burn my skin raw.

 The gates close behind me with a deep metal sound. Heavy. Final. Like a warning meant only for me.

 I stop for half a second and breathe.

 Don't panic. Don't react. Don't let them smell you.

 The air here is thick with power. Alpha territory. Alpha rules. Alpha eyes are already watching, and I've been inside these gates for exactly four seconds. Somewhere above me, a bell tower marks the hour in a low, resonant chime that seems to vibrate straight through my chest, and I remind myself, for the hundredth time since leaving home, that I chose this. No one forced me through these gates. I forced myself.

 A group of students stands near the entrance, laughing too loud, voices sharp with confidence. They stop when they see me. Their smiles fade. Their eyes drop to my wristband.

 Gray.

 Omega.

 The whispers come fast. Not even quiet.

 "An omega?"

 "She doesn't belong here."

 "Is this a mistake?"

 "Who let her in?"

 My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. I keep walking. Head down. Steps steady.

 If I look at them, they win.

 Someone laughs behind me. Another voice clicks their tongue like I'm something scraped off a boot.

 Mooncrest University. The place where only the strongest packs send their heirs. Royals. Future leaders. And somehow, me, carrying a name that isn't mine and a bloodline I was told to bury before I could even walk.

 "Hey! You're my roommate, right?"

 I stop because the voice is too close and too cheerful for a place like this. I turn slowly.

 A girl with pale hair pulled into a messy braid grins at me like we've known each other for years. Her eyes are bright. Curious. Too open for a place like this. Everything about her feels like sunlight in a room built for shadows, and some small, foolish part of me wants to trust her immediately, which is exactly why I don't.

 "I'm Selene," she says. "You're April, yeah?"

 I nod once.

 She falls into step beside me without asking. "I thought they messed up my assignment. I mean, no offense. It's just rare, you know?"

 "I know."

 She keeps talking anyway. About the dorms. The classes. The cafeteria food. The party already planned for tonight. The alphas.

 Always the alphas.

 "So what pack are you from?" she asks casually.

 "I'm not."

 She blinks. Slows her steps. "Oh. That's... rare."

 I don't answer.

 She glances at my wrist again, then leans closer. Too close. "What about your scent? It's weird. I mean, not bad weird. Just..."

 "I'm tired," I cut in, sharper than I mean to.

 She laughs, holding up her hands. "Right. First day nerves. I talk too much when I'm nervous."

 But her eyes don't leave my wrist the rest of the walk, and something in the careful way she watches me makes the back of my neck prickle. Like she already knows more about me than a roommate should.

 We reach the dorm building. Tall. Stone walls. Old magic humming under the surface. I feel it brush my skin and recoil before I can stop myself, a shiver crawling down my spine like the building itself is trying to decide whether I belong inside it.

 My room is small. Two beds. Two desks. One narrow window overlooking the training grounds, where a handful of students are already sparring despite the early hour, their shouts carrying faintly through the glass.

 I choose the bed farthest from the door.

 I unpack fast. Clothes folded. Books stacked. I keep my suppressants in my pocket. Always. My skin itches where the patch touches my side, raw and angry, like my own body is trying to fight its way free of the lie I'm forcing onto it.

 Selene sits on her bed and watches me like I'm a puzzle she's already trying to solve.

 "So," she says, swinging her legs. "Mooncrest isn't easy for omegas."

 "I know."

 "Alphas here don't play nice."

 "I know."

 She tilts her head. "You don't talk much."

 "I'm here to study."

 She smiles like that's funny. "Good luck with that."

 The bell rings across campus. Loud. Sharp. My heart jumps like it's been waiting for an excuse.

 Our first lecture starts in ten minutes.

 The lecture hall is already packed when we arrive. Voices echo. Scents clash. Alpha dominance presses down on me from all sides, thick enough to taste, sharp enough that I have to work not to visibly flinch away from it.

 I choose a seat near the back. Corner. Easy exit. Always plan the exit first, my aunt used to say, back before she stopped saying anything to me at all, back before the day she pressed suppressants into my hands and told me to disappear.

 The professor starts talking. His voice is dull, steady. I focus on it. I breathe slowly. Count my heartbeats.

 One. Two. Three.

 Then the door opens.

 Everything stops.

 Four men walk in late, and the room changes. No noise. No movement. Just pressure, rolling through the hall like a wave breaking against stone, pressing every student down into their seats without a single word spoken.

 One goes straight to the front. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes that don't bother scanning the room. He doesn't need to.

 Jodan.

 I know his name without being told. Everyone does.

 Another leans against the wall, arms crossed. Muscles tight. Jaw clenched. His eyes move like he's daring someone to challenge him.

 Riven.

 The third walks in smiling, confident, relaxed, like the world bends to him willingly. He glances around as if this is all entertainment arranged specifically for him.

 Lucien.

 The last one pauses.

 Just for a second.

 His gaze finds me.

 It feels like being seen through skin and bone. Like he notices the lie before I've even had the chance to speak it aloud.

 Eryx.

 My stomach twists hard.

 Selene whispers, "You're shaking."

 "I'm fine."

 Jodan takes his seat. The professor clears his throat and continues like nothing happened, voice rushed now, hands fumbling slightly with his notes.

 Lucien turns in his chair. His eyes catch mine. He smiles wider, slow and deliberate, like he's already decided something about me he hasn't bothered sharing.

 I look away.

 Riven sniffs the air.

 His head snaps toward me. His eyes narrow.

 My suppressants burn. Heat flares under my skin, sudden and vicious, and I press my arm tight against my side, willing it to stop before anyone else notices.

 Too late.

 Eryx frowns, head tilting slightly, like he's caught the edge of something he can't quite name. Something wrong. Something familiar in a way that shouldn't be possible for a stranger he's never met.

 Jodan finally turns.

 His gaze hits me full on, and the entire lecture hall seems to shrink around us, walls pressing closer, air going thin.

 He stands.

 Every instinct in me screams run.

 He walks closer. Each step measured. Controlled. Powerful. Conversations die around us. Chairs creak as students twist to watch, phones lowering, breath held.

 I grip my bag so hard my fingers hurt.

 "Professor," he says calmly. "May I ask a question?"

 The professor nods too fast, sweat shining on his forehead.

 Jodan's eyes never leave me.

 "Why," he says quietly, "does an omega smell like the moon?"

 The words land like a struck bell, and for one full second, nobody in that hall breathes.

 Then the wristband on my arm, the one marked gray, the one that has hidden me for eighteen years, flares white-hot against my skin.

 I gasp, yanking my sleeve down too late. Every head in the room turns toward the sudden light bleeding through the fabric, and Selene's hand closes hard around my wrist, her earlier curiosity gone, replaced by something close to terror.

 "That's not an omega band," she breathes, so quiet only I can hear it. "April, that's a suppression seal. A royal one. I've only ever seen one in a textbook."

 Riven is already moving toward me, nostrils flared, a low sound building in his chest that isn't quite a growl and isn't quite anything human at all, something ancient stirring behind his eyes.

 Lucien has gone very still, all his easy charm gone cold, his gaze fixed on my sleeve like he's watching something impossible unfold in slow motion.

 And Eryx, quiet, watchful Eryx, says the one thing that turns my carefully built lie to ash in front of the entire lecture hall.

 "She's not an omega," he says softly, almost to himself, eyes locked on the light still glowing beneath my sleeve. "She's the girl the Council buried twenty years ago."

 The professor drops his notes. Somewhere near the front, a phone clatters to the floor. And beneath all of it, faint but unmistakable, an alarm bell begins to toll from somewhere deep within the university's oldest tower, a sound I will later learn hasn't rung in two decades.