Roommate Roulette: Chapter 3

Riley's expression softens as she folds one of Lyric's sweaters, inhaling the faint scent of lavender fabric softener. Being a Beta means she'll never understand the overwhelming biological imperatives that drive Alphas and Omegas, but she's witnessed enough designation drama to recognize genuine distress.

Riley's expression softens as she folds one of Lyric's sweaters, inhaling the faint scent of lavender fabric softener. Being a Beta means she'll never understand the overwhelming biological imperatives that drive Alphas and Omegas, but she's witnessed enough designation drama to recognize genuine distress.

Riley picks at a loose thread on the sweater. "The world's changing, you know. Some Alphas actually respect boundaries now." She glances toward the door. "And Sebastian? He might scowl like he's auditioning for a vampire movie, but I've never seen him pressure anyone."

Lyric's amber eyes flash with momentary defiance. "They all seem decent until their instincts take over."

The bitterness in her voice speaks of old wounds, experiences that have taught her to distrust Alpha promises. Riley doesn't pry, though curiosity burns inside her. Instead, she changes tactics, moving to the small mini-fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

"Drink this. You're getting flushed."

Outside the dorm building, Sebastian paces the concrete path, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The cool autumn air does little to calm the fire raging beneath his skin. His wolf prowls restlessly, demanding he return to the room, to the Omega—his Omega—whose scent has been imprinted on every cell of his body. He inhales deeply, trying to clear his head, but it's pointless. Her scent clings to him like a second skin—honeysuckle and amber mixing with his own pine and midnight notes to create something new, something that feels dangerously like destiny.

A group of students passes by, giving Sebastian a wide berth. They don't need enhanced senses to recognize an Alpha on edge. His pheromones broadcast a clear warning: Stay away. His wolf relishes their fear, the primal part of him satisfied by their submission, but the human part—the part that's spent years learning control—is horrified.

Sebastian digs his nails into his palm until it hurts. "Get it together," he mutters, raking fingers through his black hair, tugging hard enough that the pain momentarily drowns out the need. The coffee cup he'd used as an excuse sits forgotten on a nearby bench. His rational mind screams for distance while his wolf howls for her, and he's caught between—a man torn in two. Even now, fifty yards from the dorm, the invisible tether pulls him back toward room 307, and he hates himself for how badly he wants to follow it.

Inside the dorm, Lyric presses the cool water bottle against her flushed cheek. Her body temperature is rising steadily despite her best efforts, and the absence of Sebastian—while giving her space to breathe—has created a different kind of discomfort. A yearning. A hollow ache that whispers of incompleteness.

"I should have stayed at Westlake," she says, setting down the bottle. "They have Omega-only housing."

Riley raises an eyebrow, moving a potted fern to make space for Lyric's overflowing jewelry box on the narrow desk. "And miss all this drama? You'd be bored to death with your own kind."

The door swings open with a sudden force that makes both women start. Sebastian stands in the doorway, his broad frame nearly filling the space, eyes immediately finding Lyric's. He'd made it to the coffee shop, stood in line, even ordered—but somewhere between paying and waiting for his name to be called, the pull had become unbearable. His fingers had trembled as he'd abandoned the cup on a bench outside, still steaming. His wolf had practically howled in triumph as he'd surrendered, turning back toward the dorm, toward her.

"That was quick," Riley observes dryly, though neither Sebastian nor Lyric seems to hear her. They're locked in a silent exchange that speaks volumes, their bodies oriented toward each other like compass needles finding north.

Sebastian steps into the room, closing the door behind him with deliberate care. The sound of the latch clicking into place sends a visible shiver down Lyric's spine. Her scent intensifies, a sweet burst of honeysuckle that makes Sebastian's pupils dilate further, his nostrils flaring as he drinks her in.

He crosses the room in three swift strides, his restraint finally shattering. "I forgot something," he growls, pulling her to her feet and against his chest in one fluid motion. His lips crash against hers, hungry and desperate. Lyric freezes for only a heartbeat before her hands find his hair, her body arching into his with a small, surrendering sound that seems to vibrate through them both.

Riley backs toward her desk, scooping up the potted fern. "And that, Fernand," she whispers to the plant, cupping its leaves protectively, "is what we call 'Alpha meets Omega, common sense exits stage left.'" She glances between them, amusement warring with genuine concern. "Notice the dilated pupils and complete disregard for the roommate still standing right here. Fascinating, isn't it? Almost makes me glad I'm just a boring Beta."