53 - Shadows Of Protection

The house was a bit quieter now that Mia had gone to camp, the usual hum of her energy and chatter absent from the air.

The silence seemed to settle more heavily than it ever had before as the schoolyard sat eerily still. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the nearly empty parking lot.

Ezra had stayed behind in the truck, one arm slung out the window, the other resting on the wheel. His eyes tracked the playground, half-lidded with exhaustion.

He rubbed his hand down his face, sighing, the scent of motor oil, pine, and the lingering warmth of Sebastian’s lavender drifting faintly through the cab.

Sebastian sat beside him, legs crossed at the ankles, one boot rhythmically tapping the floorboard.

“You're thinking too hard,” Sebastian murmured, eyes still on the school doors.

Ezra grunted. “Yeah. 'Cause thinking soft doesn’t get anything done.”

He turned his head slowly toward Seb, letting his gaze slide over him in that way that always made Sebastian roll his eyes—slow and deliberate, taking in the curve of his cheek, the tension in his shoulders.

“You always fidget when you're nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Sebastian replied quickly, even as he tucked a curl behind his ear.

Ezra leaned closer, the scent of spice and sweat and summer heat rolling off him in waves. Sebastian inhaled involuntarily, and it hit him square in the chest—Alpha musk, thick and grounding. He stiffened. Ezra noticed.

Ezra smirked. “You smell good,” he said casually. “Sweet Omega.”

Sebastian gave him a flat look. “Ez.”

“What?” Ezra grinned, voice low. “I’m just sayin’—I’m tired. Long day. You’re right here.”

He reached over and curled his fingers gently around the back of Sebastian’s neck, tugging him slightly, eyes hooded. “C’mon. Just a quick taste. Suck me off, Omega. I’ll drive real slow after.”

Sebastian immediately swatted his hand away, his cheeks flushed a soft pink. “You’re disgusting,” he said, nose wrinkling—but his voice betrayed him, not quite harsh enough to land.

“Stop thinking with your dick for once. You’re radiating pheromones like a broken air freshener.”

Ezra let out a quiet chuckle, warm and gravelly. “You love when I think with my dick.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched. “I love when you think with your heart. Try it sometime.”

There was a beat of quiet. Ezra looked at him more seriously now, and the moment settled. Soft, tender. He wanted to say something, but Sebastian had already unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I’ll go get them,” Sebastian said gently, his voice regaining its professional calm.

Ezra nodded, watching him go, his scent lingering in the space like a calming balm.

Inside, the air was still. Too still.

The hallway echoed with each step of Sebastian’s boots on the linoleum. The weight of the day, the odd silence—he pushed it down. But something was wrong. The tension in the air crawled across his skin like ants.

He approached the classroom. His stomach clenched.

When he opened the door, the world dropped out from under him.

The man—mid-thirties, smug, unfamiliar—had Caleb pinned near the teacher’s desk, one hand grasping the waistband of the child’s shorts. Camden stood frozen beside his brother, his eyes wide and terrified.

Sebastian’s vision turned red.

The moment fractured. Memory and instinct overtook him.

He saw himself—small, scared, shoved against tile, the weight of betrayal pressing him into the dark. That same sickening scent—sweat, mint gum, fear.

He moved. Without conscious thought.

His hand reached for the nearest object—a pair of scissors on the teacher’s desk—and his arm followed instinct. Rage. Fury. Protection.

The first strike cut across the man’s forearm. The second hit his collar. The third—he didn’t count. He wasn’t trying to stop. He was trying to erase. To eliminate. To destroy.

Blood splattered the whiteboard. The teacher shrieked. But Sebastian didn’t stop.

His body surged forward again, feral, wild. The sharp scent of fear flooded the air. His own lavender turned acrid with adrenaline.

It wasn’t until strong arms grabbed him from behind—tore him away—that the world began to tilt back into focus.

“Sebastian!”

Ezra.

His voice was a deep growl, urgent and commanding, but full of something else too—concern. Panic.

Ezra wrestled the scissors from his grip. They clattered to the floor.

Sebastian turned in his arms, gasping, eyes glassy. Ezra’s scent slammed into him—sandalwood and dominance, sharp and grounding.

Ezra held him tight. “Seb. Look at me.”

Their foreheads nearly touched. Ezra was breathing hard, but his touch was careful.

“Ez…”

The tears came all at once. Choking sobs that wracked his small frame.

Ezra didn’t let him fall.

The world behind them was chaos. Teachers rushing in. Shouting. Panic. Blood.

But none of it mattered.

Sebastian dropped to his knees, crawling toward the twins, who had backed into the corner of the room, pale and trembling.

He reached for them, desperate to touch, to hold, to know they were safe.

“What happened?” he rasped, voice broken.

Caleb spoke through sobs. “Teacher said… he said he wanted to show us something. He told us to pull our shorts down.”

Sebastian's stomach dropped.

Ezra’s jaw clenched. His voice was steel.

“Get him out of here,” he said to the adults frozen in the doorway. “Before I finish what my mate started.”

No one argued.

Sebastian held the twins close. Their small bodies shivered in his arms.

He kissed the tops of their heads, whispered broken apologies into their hair.

Ezra knelt behind him, his chest against Sebastian’s back, arms wrapping around all three of them. His scent folded around them like a shield, dominant and grounding.

“You got here in time,” Ezra murmured, voice rough. “You saved them, Omega.”

Sebastian choked on a sob, his hand fisting Ezra’s shirt behind him.

“I almost wasn’t fast enough,” he whispered. “I almost—”

“You were,” Ezra said. “You were.”

Sebastian inhaled their small Alpha scents, trying to memorize that they were okay.

Safe. Here.