I stand at the gates of Ridgecrest Academy, and it’s nothing like I expected. The place looks more like a fortress than a school. Stone walls, iron gates, and high towers loom over the campus, reminding me that this isn’t just any academy. It’s where they train the next generation of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.
Correction—where they train Alphas to lead, Betas to serve, and Omegas to submit. This place is designed to churn out obedient Omegas, perfect little packages ready for Alphas to claim.
I grip the strap of my bag, trying to ignore the itch of discomfort crawling up my spine. I don’t belong here. I never wanted to be an Omega, and I sure as hell didn’t want to come to Ridgecrest. But rules are rules.
Every Omega has to come here the year before their heats start, learn how to be the perfect partner, the ideal submissive.
Not me. I’m here because I want to survive.
I’ve spent the last few years preparing to be anything but that. My hands grip the strap of my duffel bag a little tighter, muscles flexing beneath my shirt. I refuse to be weak, refuse to let anyone—especially an Alpha—see me as small or vulnerable.
Working out was the one thing I could control after I found out about my Omega status. I didn’t want to shrink into that mould, so I built myself up instead.
I adjust the strap on my shoulder, taking in the sight of the other students streaming inside. Alphas mostly, some Betas mixed in, all of them so at ease here, like they own the place. I guess they do.
Ridgecrest might as well have been built for them. The Omegas are another story—they walk in pairs or small groups, soft-spoken and shy, casting nervous glances around like they’re already looking for an Alpha to latch onto.
They say coming here is for our own good, but I know better. Ridgecrest is about one thing: control. And I refuse to give them any over me.
I step through the gates, forcing myself to stay calm. My body feels tense, like it knows something’s off. I’ve always been able to resist the pull of an Alpha’s dominance, that ingrained compulsion to bow and submit.
It’s probably the only thing I’m grateful for, but I’m not stupid—I know that resisting is a gamble, and I don’t have any illusions that I’ll win every time.
Still, I’m here for one reason: to survive. To learn whatever I can so that, when the time comes, I can protect myself. I don’t want anyone’s claim, and I sure as hell don’t want to be owned.
I head toward the administration building to get my room assignment, keeping my head down, ignoring the curious looks thrown my way.
“Hey, new guy!” a voice calls out behind me. I keep walking. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, curly hair!”
I stop, exhaling slowly before turning around. A tall Beta with sandy blond hair jogs up to me, a grin plastered on his face. His build is athletic but not overly bulky, like he spends his time doing casual workouts instead of heavy lifting.
“Tyler, right?” He sticks his hand out like we’ve been friends for years. “I’m Jacob. Roommates.”
I blink at him, thrown by the sudden introduction. “Roommates?”
“Yup. Saw your name on the list. Figured I’d track you down. I’m good with names, what can I say?”
I don’t take his hand. “Great.”
He lowers his hand but doesn’t seem put off by my cold reaction. “So, you just got here?”
“Yeah,” I shift the duffel on my shoulder. “I’m heading to the admin building to get my room assignment.”
Jacob grins wider. “No need. I’ve got it right here.” He pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and waves it in front of me. “Room 212, North Dorm. I can show you the way if you want.”
I narrow my eyes. “And how do you already have this?”
“I’m resourceful. And I like to be prepared.” He flashes me a cocky smile, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m sure,” I mutter, half under my breath, but he catches it and laughs.
“Come on, I’ll walk you there.” He gestures toward the dorms. “Better than wandering around by yourself.”
I hesitate. The last thing I need is some overly friendly Beta tagging along, but I don’t have the energy to argue. Besides, better to scope out who this Jacob guy is before deciding to blow him off.
“Fine.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes, Jacob leading the way through the maze of buildings and courtyards. I steal glances at the groups we pass—some Alphas sizing me up, others ignoring me completely. It’s the usual hierarchy, with Alphas at the top, Betas somewhere in the middle, and us Omegas at the bottom, expected to fall in line.
Jacob breaks the silence. “So, where are you from?”
“Nowhere important,” I say, keeping my answers short. I don’t want to get into details.
“You always this chatty?”
I glance at him. “You always this nosy?”
He laughs again, genuinely amused. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off… for now. But you’re stuck with me for the whole year, so might as well get used to it.”
I’m about to respond when we turn a corner, and I spot a group of Alphas lounging near the dorm entrance. One of them is leaning against the doorframe, watching everyone pass by with a smug expression on his face.
He’s the epitome of Alpha: blond hair mussed rebelliously, tall and muscular, the blue eyes of an Alpha and a cigarette dangling from his lips. Even though I’ve just arrived, I already know who he is.
Landon Hayes, Ridgecrest’s golden boy.
Alpha, wealthy family, heir to some legacy pack, and basically the king of the academy. Everything about him screams confidence and arrogance, and the way the others around him hang on his every word makes me want to roll my eyes.
As we get closer, Landon’s gaze shifts to me, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if sizing me up. I hold his stare, refusing to look away, even though every instinct is telling me to. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Jacob slows down, glancing between me and Landon like he’s expecting something to happen. “Uh, you good, Tyler?”
I don’t answer, and Landon’s lips curl into a smirk. “New Omega?” he asks, his voice dripping with condescension.
I ignore the question, turning toward Jacob. “Where’s our room?”
Jacob blinks, startled by how quickly I dismiss Landon, but he recovers quickly. “Second floor. Come on.”
I move past Landon without a second glance, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole time, like a predator watching its prey.
As we make it into the dorm, Jacob lets out a low whistle. “Damn, you’ve got guts. No one brushes off Landon like that.”
“Maybe they should,” I mutter, heading for the stairs.
Jacob chuckles. “You’re gonna be fun to watch this year.”
I don’t respond. I already know how this is going to go—Landon won’t like being ignored. Alphas like him never do. And now, I’m on his radar, which means the next time we cross paths, it won’t be this easy to walk away.
We reach the room, and Jacob unlocks the door, pushing it open with a grin. “Home sweet home.”
It’s a typical dorm room—two beds, two desks, a shared bathroom. Not exactly luxurious, but I didn’t expect much. I drop my bag on the bed furthest from the door and start unpacking, keeping an eye on Jacob out of the corner of my eye.
“So,” Jacob starts, leaning against his desk. “What’s your deal?”
I glance up. “What?”
“I mean, you don’t exactly fit the usual Omega mould, do you?” He gestures to my arms. “No offence, but most Omegas aren’t, you know... built.”
I shrug. “I work out.”
“Clearly. But why?”
I hesitate, but then figure there’s no harm in telling him. “I don’t want to be weak.”
Jacob raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the point of being an Omega? You don’t have to be strong. You’ve got Alphas for that.”
I give him a look that could cut steel. “Not me. I don’t need an Alpha”
Jacob studies me for a moment, then grins. “I like you, Tyler. You’re different.”
“I’m not here to make friends.”
He laughs. “Too late. You’ve got one now. Sorry.”
I roll my eyes, but there’s no real malice behind it. Jacob’s not bad. Annoying, sure, but better than most Betas I’ve dealt with.
As I finish unpacking, Jacob flops onto his bed, hands behind his head. “So, what do you think of Ridgecrest so far?”
I pause, glancing out the window at the courtyard below. “It’s exactly what I expected.”
Jacob chuckles. “Yeah, I figured. Just watch your back with Landon. He’s not the kind of guy who lets things go easily. You crossed a line back there, and he’ll remember it.”
“Let him.”
“Well, aren’t you ambitious?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You got a problem with that?”
Jacob raises his hands in mock surrender. “Not at all. Honestly, I think it’s kind of refreshing. Most Omegas come here resigned to their fate, but you… You’ve got fire. I like it.”
I don’t know if that’s a compliment or if he’s mocking me, but I let it slide. “What about you? You’re a Beta. Why are you in the Omega dorm?”
He shrugs, his expression turning a little more serious. “I like to keep an eye on things. Make sure none of the Alphas get too… overzealous.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that even allowed?”
“Not officially,” Jacob admits, “but let’s just say I’ve got a few connections that let me slide under the radar.”
“Connections, huh? And what do you get out of it?”
Jacob’s smile returns, this time with a mischievous edge. “I get to avoid all the Alpha posturing and drama. Plus, it’s kind of fun being the odd one out. Keeps things interesting.”
I watch him for a moment, trying to figure him out. He seems too easygoing for someone who’s chosen to be in the middle of all this. But something tells me there’s more to him than he’s letting on.
“Well, as long as you stay out of my way, we’ll be fine,” I say.
“Deal,” Jacob says, pushing off the wall. “But I’ll warn you—keeping a low profile around here is harder than it looks.”
I give him a pointed look. “I can handle it.”
Jacob raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push the issue. “Alright, then. Guess we’ll see how this year plays out.”
I don’t respond. All I know is that I’m not here to play by their rules. If Landon wants to come after me, he can try. But I’ve spent too long preparing for this to let some arrogant Alpha think he owns me. Ridgecrest might be their kingdom, but I’m not here to be anyone’s prize.
Not now. Not ever.
The fire pit crackles low between us, casting soft amber light against the twilight sky. The trees around the garden sway gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering above the roof of our little cottage. Yip, the one with the sunroom Xavier insisted we needed, even though he only uses it on quiet mornings to read poetry with his legs folded beneath him and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.There’s music drifting from the outdoor speaker, low and mellow. Something acoustic, soft around the edges. A breeze carries the scent of grilled peaches and jasmine, wrapping around the four of us in lazy tendrils as the last stretch of golden hour melts into dusk.Tyler is curled into one of the patio chairs, blanket thrown around his shoulders like a shawl, hair in a messy bun on top of his head. He’s got a mug in one hand, half-full with lukewarm tea he keeps forgetting to drink, and a sleepy baby balanced across his chest, her little hand tucked against his throat like she owns him.Wh
We sit on the balcony just past sunset, the breeze light and tinged with the scent of jasmine drifting up from the garden beds below. Xavier’s legs are tucked up under him on the lounge chair beside mine, one of my hoodies draped loosely over his frame. He’s got a mug in his hands—something herbal and full of honey—and every so often, he brings it to his lips without drinking, just to feel the warmth and inhale.It’s been a week since the press conference. Three since the Council released their final statement. The world has been turning fast, with interviews and meetings and Council debriefs blurring one day into the next, but somehow, tonight feels slower.I glance over at him, watching the way the fading light catches in his hair, soft and gold at the edges, and I feel it again—that instinctual pulse that still hasn’t dulled, even now that we’re bonded and safe and on the other side of everything they tried to take from us. It’s quieter now, settled deeper, but it’s there. That c
The sky is overcast above the Council Hall, but for once, it doesn’t feel heavy. The clouds are soft, thin like worn cotton, and the air smells faintly of rain—clean and cool and not like anything artificial. I never thought I’d be able to stand on these steps and feel peace, but here I am, standing just outside the building where I first cracked my ribs open to speak the truth, and for the first time in years, I feel like I’m standing on solid ground.Jacob is beside me, one hand in mine, the other tucked into his coat pocket as we watch the Council’s official liaison descend the stairs with a final nod of dismissal. There’s no crowd. No reporters. No fanfare. Just a few quiet guards and the soft hum of the sealed security gate behind us. The statement was released publicly five minutes ago, and the silence that follows feels less like absence and more like reverence.“They’re gone,” I say, barely louder than a breath.Jacob squeezes my hand. “They are.”My body doesn’t know what t
I wake up to the scent of him.Not the faint trace he used to leave behind on pillows and stolen hoodies and the edges of our nest. Not the sweet, subtle notes that used to slip out when he forgot his inhibitors or when his body was too exhausted to keep them fully active. No, this scent is different. Bolder. Unfiltered. Saturating the air around us like sunlight through sheer curtains—warm, dizzying, mine.And underneath all that: Contentment. It hums through the bond like a heartbeat.I lie there for a long moment, eyes still closed, breathing it in. Letting it roll through my lungs and settle in my chest like something I never want to let go of. I can feel him, really feel him now. The bond we’d tiptoed around for weeks has finally settled into place, stretching between us like a current—alive, tethered, undeniable.He’s still asleep, curled against me, head tucked under my chin, one hand splayed across my stomach like he never wants to let me go. The moment I shift slightly to lo
The moment we step through the doors of the estate, I know something’s changing inside me.It starts slow.Not the heat—that crashes into me sudden and full-bodied, leaving no room for grace—but my choice. The moment I decide. The moment I finally let go. That part comes gently. Like breath. Like something inevitable.I stand just inside the entryway for a moment, still and breathless. My palms are sweating. My body feels too warm. There’s a tension building under my skin, like every part of me is waking up, like I’ve been asleep for years and only now remembered I have a body that needs.I press my palm flat to the wall, gripping the edge of the molding like it’ll keep me upright. My breath is shallow. My skin is too tight. The bond is thrumming, thick with Jacob’s scent, his presence, his worry. He hasn’t said a word yet, but I can feel him behind me—his energy crawling up my spine, his control barely held together at the seams.I don’t turn around. I can’t. I need a minute to fight
The sun hits me in the face the second we step out of the courthouse, but for once, I don’t flinch away from it.Everything’s too bright, but I don’t mind it. Not today. Today, I want to feel all of it. The warmth on my skin, the weight of the air, the echo of my own heartbeat that still hasn’t settled from what I just did. My chest feels hollow and full all at once, like I’ve exhaled something I’ve been carrying for years and now I don’t know how to breathe without it.Jacob’s hand slips into mine as we step onto the stone steps. He doesn’t speak as he walks beside me, our bodies brushing. I can feel his gaze on me, quiet and protective and so much deeper than just pride. He hasn’t said a word since I gave my testimony—not since he met me in the hallway and held me like I was something sacred and broken and remade all at once.I think if he says anything right now, I might cry, so I’m grateful for the silence.Until I see them.Tyler and Landon are waiting at the bottom of the courth