Steady me, Alpha

Rose’s POV

The clock on the dresser ticked past six-thirty, each soft click like a heartbeat echoing through the quiet dorm room. I jolted awake from the shallow, restless doze I’d fallen into, heart slamming against my ribs as if the bond itself had reached through the darkness and shaken me. Moonlight had shifted across the floor, silver pools now stretching toward my bed like invitations. Lila’s breathing was deep and even, her earbuds still playing that faint lute melody that had lulled her under. The room smelled of sleep and our shared lotions, but underneath it all—inescapable—was *him*. Pine smoke and cold iron, wrapped so tightly around my changed scent that even the strongest blocker vial Lila had pressed into my palm at dinner couldn’t fully mask it anymore.

I sat up slowly, thighs pressing together against the persistent ache that had never really faded. My sleep shorts were damp, the sheets beneath me sticky with evidence of the denied orgasm and the slick that had leaked despite the alpha command still ringing in my bones. The claiming bite throbbed in perfect sync with my pulse, hot and alive, sending little sparks of memory straight to my core every time I swallowed. *7pm, little omega.* The words he’d spoken in the lecture hall replayed in that velvet-over-steel voice, low and absolute, settling low in my belly like a promise I couldn’t outrun.

My wolf stirred inside me, russet fur brushing against the silver shadow of his in the bond, tail wagging slow and hopeful. *Go,* she rumbled, voice warm and insistent. *Mate waits. Doors locked. Wards up. Let him steady the fear.* I shoved her down—gently, but firmly—clenching my jaw as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The stone floor was cool against my bare feet, grounding me for one fragile second before the bond tugged again, golden and patient, reeling me toward the door like an invisible leash wrapped around my heart.

I moved on autopilot, the way omegas do when the pull is this strong. Stripped off the sleep clothes, wiped myself clean with a damp cloth from the basin, the cool water doing nothing to quench the heat still simmering under my skin. Chose the sturdiest uniform I had—dark navy skirt that fell just below the knee, crisp white blouse buttoned high enough to hide the bite, jacket layered over it like armor.

Applied another layer of Lila’s scent blocker with shaking fingers, the blue vial cool and familiar, the herbal burn grounding me as it stung my wrists, throat, and the soft skin behind my ears. In the small mirror above the dresser, my reflection stared back—eyes too bright with that faint golden glow I couldn’t quite suppress, cheeks flushed, lips bitten raw. I looked like a woman already halfway claimed, halfway lost.

*Stay away,* I whispered to the glass, the words barely audible even to me. But they rang hollow now, cracked by the memory of his thumb on my cheek, the way his silver eyes had held mine without anger, only that bone-deep resolve. *I will see you at 7pm, little omega.*

The corridor outside was dimmer than midday, torches flickering in their iron sconces, casting long shadows that danced like accusations across the stone. Curfew wasn’t for another hour, but the halls had emptied early—most students already tucked into study groups or early beds after the long day of drills and lectures. I kept my head down, hood pulled up, boots soft on the flagstones as I slipped past the omega wing’s arched entrance and into the main cloister. The bond pulled me west, toward the faculty tower where his office waited on the third floor, heavy oak door and wards that would hum to life the second it closed behind me.

Every step stretched the golden thread tighter, a delicious ache that made my breath come shorter. I passed the library arches, the faint scratch of quills and murmur of late scholars drifting out like distant waves. A pair of betas hurried by, laughing about tomorrow’s Shifting Theory practical, but one of them slowed, nostrils flaring as my scent brushed past. I didn’t look back. Kept walking. Past the training fields where the last alphas were packing away practice blades, their sweat and exertion thick on the night air. Marcus wasn’t among them—thank the gods—but the memory of his mocking toast at dinner still crawled over my skin like spiders. *Changed scent.* If he saw me now, heading toward the faculty tower after hours…

The bond flared protectively, Jason’s growl vibrating through me again—deeper this time, laced with that alpha authority that made my knees want to buckle. *Mine. No one touches what’s claimed.*

I quickened my pace, heart hammering, until the faculty tower loomed ahead—tall spires of weathered stone wrapped in ivy, windows glowing softly with hearthlight on the upper floors. His office light was on. I knew it without looking; the bond showed me the flicker of flames in the grate, the scattered parchments on his desk, the leather folder labeled in his precise hand: *Preemptive Documentation*. He was waiting. Of course he was.

The spiral staircase inside was narrow, torchlight flickering on the curving walls, each step upward pulling me closer. My thighs rubbed together with every rise, slick threatening again despite the blockers, the bite pulsing hotter. By the time I reached the third-floor landing, my palms were damp, breath shallow. The heavy oak door stood at the end of the short hall—polished, imposing, the brass handle gleaming like an invitation and a warning at once.

I hesitated there, hand hovering inches from the wood. *Stay away. Leave me alone.* The mantra tried one last time, but it dissolved under the weight of the bond’s gentle tug, the way my wolf was practically vibrating inside me now, ears pricked, tail high. *Mate. Home. 7pm.*

Before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked—two soft raps that sounded too loud in the quiet corridor.

The door opened almost immediately.

Jason filled the frame, silver eyes locking onto mine with that same steady resolve from the lecture hall. He’d shed the charcoal jacket, white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing corded forearms and the faint scar on his left wrist from some old border skirmish. His scent hit me full force—pine smoke and cold iron and *home*—wrapping around me like arms I’d been aching for since dawn. The bond sang, golden light flaring bright and warm between us, chasing away the last edges of my daytime panic.

“Little omega,” he murmured, voice low and rough, stepping aside without a word of command. “Come in.”

I slipped past him, the brush of his body heat against my arm sending a shiver down my spine. The door clicked shut behind me with a finality that made my stomach flip. Then the wards hummed to life—soft, shimmering magic that sealed the room in privacy, the air thickening slightly, sounds from the corridor outside fading to nothing. It was just us. The hearth crackled low in the corner, casting golden light across the heavy oak desk scattered with papers, the two leather chairs, the tall bookshelves lined with ancient tomes on bond law and claiming rites. The same desk he’d bent me over last night. The same room where everything had snapped into place.

I stood in the center, arms wrapped around my middle like I could hold myself together, Lore notes clutched in one fist like a shield. My voice came out small, cracked. “I told myself I wouldn’t come. I whispered it the whole way here. Stay away. Let you have your life. But the bond… it wouldn’t let me. It pulled and pulled until my feet moved on their own.”

He didn’t crowd me. Didn’t touch. Just leaned back against the closed door, arms crossed over that broad chest, silver eyes soft but unwavering. “I know,” he said quietly. “I felt every step. Every hesitation. Every time you almost turned back. But you’re here, Rose. And that means something. The bond doesn’t lie. It knows we’re stronger when we stop fighting it.”

Tears pricked at my eyes again—gods, would they ever stop?—and I swiped at them angrily. “I’m still terrified, Jason. Marcus mouthed ‘changed scent’ at dinner. A girl in Shifting Theory asked if I’d found someone worth the risk. The whispers are starting. If they reach the board before your documents are ready—”

“They won’t,” he cut in gently, pushing off the door but still giving me space, crossing to the desk and picking up the leather folder. He held it out to me—not forcing, just offering. “I finished the first drafts this afternoon. Consent forms dated to the moment your heat broke and you looked at me across this very desk and said yes. Witnessed by my wolf’s memory and sealed with a drop of my blood. Statements from Elara and Hargrove—favors called in quietly. Precedent from sovereign bonds three centuries older than the academy charter. It’s not foolproof, little one, but it’s a shield. And we’ll build it thicker together.”

I took the folder with trembling fingers, the parchment warm from his hands. Flipping it open, I saw his neat script, the careful language framing our night as mutual, informed, adult choice—two souls finding each other against every odd. My throat tightened. “You did all this… while I was whispering ‘stay away’?”

He smiled then—that rare, devastating one that softened the sharp lines of his face and made my wolf melt. “Every word you sent through the bond only made me more sure. You’re trying to protect me the way I’m trying to protect you. That’s what mates do, Rose. But we do it *together*. No more running. No more cold sheets at dawn.”

The bond hummed warmer, pulling me a half-step closer before I caught myself. My body was already betraying me—nipples tight against my blouse, fresh slick threatening to soak through despite everything. I could smell myself in the sealed room, rose and honey thick and needy, mingling with his pine until the air felt heavy, electric.

“I… I don’t know how to stop being scared,” I whispered, setting the folder down on the desk like it might burn me. “Every time I close my eyes I see the assembly hall, the elders stripping your title, my name poison in every pack. But when I look at you… gods, Jason, it feels like coming home. Like I was only half-alive before your teeth found my throat.”

He closed the distance then—slow, deliberate, giving me every chance to step back. When I didn’t, his hand rose, callused thumb brushing my cheek exactly where it had in the lecture hall, catching a fresh tear. The contact sparked through the bond like lightning, golden and bright, chasing the guilt and leaving only heat in its wake.

“Then let me remind you,” he murmured, voice dropping to that wrecked timbre I remembered from last night, silver eyes darkening. “Right here. Right now. No rushing. No pressure. Just us, little omega. Doors locked. Wards up. Tell me what you need—to talk, to sit, to feel the bond settle… or to let me steady you the way only your alpha can.”

My breath hitched, knees weakening as his scent wrapped tighter around me. My wolf whined low and needy inside, pressing against the bond, flooding me with images—his knot locking deep, his teeth in my throat, the white-hot snap of forever. The guilt was still there, a quiet roar at the edges, but quieter now. Drowned out by the golden thread singing *together, together, together*.

I leaned into his palm, just a fraction, a broken sound escaping my throat.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “At 7pm. Like you said. So… steady me, Alpha.”