Bound to the Alpha I must kill; A Dravenmoor Academy Romance

“Hey, nerd!”

Lucien trembled at the weight of the familiar voice even from its distance.

"Answer me!” The voice sounded closer with heavy footsteps. Lucien’s breathing hardened whilst he splashed a handful of water over his stinging face. The plan was to act oblivious.

However, before the water could settle on Lucien’s face—strong hands gripped his backpack, shoving him away from the sink. The restroom heavy with the sound of rushing water and Lucien’s rapid breath.

“Xa—avier,” Lucien stuttered. 

“You didn’t hear me, huh?” Xavier growled. He trapped Lucien to the wall, his huge figure hovering over him.

“I—I swear, I didn’t. I swear it.”

Xavier glared at Lucien unsure of what to do to him. He was many things but a bully, the sudden urge to chase after someone blindly started when he first picked up Lucien’s scent. He darted his eyes over Lucien’s face wondering why he always felt a pull towards him, to mark him.

“I swear upon your wolf, I didn’t.” Lucien raised his hands in surrender, his hands brushing the hem of Xavier’s shirt which sent shivers down Xavier’s spine.

“Did you just say my wolf?” Xavier grunted, gripping him by his neck. Who was a mere omega to disobey him son–to the biggest Ambassador of Dravenmoor. Lucien whimpered, shoving his head—he knew he was done for.

Xavier made an attempt to tighten his grip on Lucien’s neck but his face dropped involuntarily doing something neither of them expected. His mouth found Lucien’s slowly at first, his tongue grazing the inside of his mouth.

Lucien gasped, his hands rested on Xavier's chest, soft moans escaping his lips. “What are you doing?” he stuttered, we could get caught. His body betrayed him—hips shifting forward, finding Xavier's waist.

Xavier drew him closer, fiercely, as he worked his tongue into Lucien's mouth.

“Hey loser!” a voice jolted Lucien who was at the edge of his seat. He managed to balance himself before he fell. He was back to reality. 

It had been an imagination, a very stupid one at that. 

“Ouch,” he held his head. Squinting, he noticed the class a bit roudy—he had slept through class. At the far end of the room, by the door, stood Mr. Finrar, their history teacher.

“The history class is over, no fighting and no shifting.” the professor pointedly snapped his briefcase shut.

Immediately the professor left, a jarring, metallic thwack echoed through the room, followed by the screech of chair legs dragging against the marble floor. 

“Loser!” The earlier voice barked. Lucien jerked upright, his heart hammering against his ribs, It was adowolf–the bully. 

Lucien sighed, he was having one of the best dreams of his life and ironically adowolf was the one in reality? Shifting his glasses to fit he peered into Adowolf's face. “How can I help you,” 

Adowolf flung his book at him. “I need help with this,” he bent over the desk glaring at Lucien. Lucien shook his head, why was everyone trying so hard to belittle him. Yes, he was an Omega who was generally considered weak but this was becoming unbearable. As if he should be grateful just to breathe the same air.

“Hey!, Adowolf stumpted his fists on the desk, the other books lifting into the air. “If I'm talking you dare not look me in the face, perhaps if I were a scholarship student you could.” 

It hurt to hear about the scholarship but Lucien ignored him, opened Adowolf’s history note and took a look at it. The history of  Dravenmoor Choosing. This was the topic taught while he was sleeping but thankfully he had prior knowledge of it. 

The Dravenmoor choosing was an annual ritual older than the academy, where the moon selected one male student to serve as the school's supreme authority. The male student isn't elected nor appointed but chosen. Bound by blood to lead the hierarchy for his entire tenure at Dravenmoor. It was the oldest tradition the school had, and most students barely understood it.

“The history of  Dravenmoor Choosing is a blood-binding ritual," he said flatly. "One male, selected by the moon goddess each generation. He becomes the school's highest authority — above rank, above family name. That's your answer,” Lucien said, closing his book. 

“No, no no,” Adowolf said. “ You are doing the assignment.” 

“Excuse me?” Lucien glanced around the classroom, his voice trailing off when he sighted adowolf’s friends approaching. 

“Dude!” One called, smacking his head. “This pretty brain of yours works quite well, huh?”

“Adowolf! Is that your assignment? Great! Hey, Lucien, how about you add mine to Adowolfs's. I better not fail this.” With that the other boy flung his note at Lucien. 

Lucien swallowed slowly, grinding his teeth. He has allowed this nonsense for too long. His life since he crossed Dravenmoor had been nothing but one bully case to another. And now even in his dreams he was getting bullied. 

“With due respect, Adowolf. I won't do your assignment or his.”

Adowolf reached across from where he was bent over the table, held the collar of Lucien's shirt and pulled him to his face. “What-did-you-say, young man!”

“I-said-I-wont—” The slap came from one of Adowolf's friends. Lucien's vision tilted, his ears ringing. 

“Now, nerd did you get the–” Lucien head-butted Adowolf who let out a loud scream letting Lucien drop with a loud thud on his chair. Adowolf held his head grunting bitterly. “How dare you!” 

Adowolf's friends rushed over to Lucien. They lifted him from his chair, two of them wrenching his arms back, holding him open.

“How dare you!” Adowolf screamed. The first punch drove the air clean out of his lungs. Lucien recoiled, whimpering in pain. A few more punches landed on his stomach while loud mocking laughs filled his ears drowning him in his own thoughts. 

What wrong did he commit? Why did the moon goddess create him as an Omega–a weakling, a foot rag. He was done being that. 

Lucien screamed and a howl sounded in the distance. Adowolf stopped, his fists still mid air. The class was silent, breaking off when strong hands gripped him hauling him on the floor. 

Adowolfs's friends trembled at the figure before them. One by one each of them was yanked off and thrown to different directions. The figure reached for Adowolf punching him till his blood smeared on his fists.

Lucien looked up to meet Xavier's bloody face and glowing eyes. His feet trembled, burying deep into the marble floor. Why was Xavier saving him all of a sudden? 

Xavier stood over Adowolf. He looked at the blood on his knuckles with something close to boredom, then dragged his tongue across it.

He turned, found Lucien.

Whatever crossed his face lasted less than a second before it hardened into something else entirely. He walked over, grabbed Lucien by the collar and hauled him up, grip rough, eyes worse.

"Screaming like a child?" His voice was low, disgusted. "Pathetic."

Lucien's hands pressed against Xavier's chest. His pulse was everywhere. "Get off me—"

"Xavier Lockwood." A voice came with the swinging of the class door.  The room went dead.

"Lucien Thorne."

Mr. Finrar stood in the doorway. Briefcase in hand. Eyes moving slowly between them both.

"Detention!"