Chapter 9

Leon’s POV

I woke up the next morning feeling… surprisingly rested. Maybe it was the charm the guys gave me. Maybe it was pure exhaustion. Maybe my brain gave up fighting the universe and just shut down.

Either way, I felt better.

The frustration pain and dread from before was still there but I felt stronger. Like I could actually pull it off.

I stretched, rolled out of bed, and showered. Then I stood in front of my closet for a solid ten minutes deciding exactly how unhinged I wanted to be today.

Very.

I picked out the best outfit I owned, black fitted trousers, a dark green shirt that hugged my body perfectly, and a jacket that made me look like I owned several expensive yachts. I styled my hair until it looked “effortlessly perfect,” which took actual effort, and checked myself in the mirror.

Yeah.

I looked sinful.

Good.

Because I had one mission today:

Seduce Alister until he lost brain function.

A menacing plan, yes.

But I was a menace. At least I'm self, aware.

I was going to drive him insane. It was something that gave me strength. I was looking forward to it

His class was the last for the day and I couldn't wait for it.

I had something to think off that would help me get through the day just fine.

I grabbed my bag and stepped outside, locking the door behind me. On the way to class, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Reginald.

Finally.

Reginald: I’m sorry for not explaining things earlier. I handled everything. Don’t worry about anything back here. its all here waiting for you. You have access to your trust so you can use it however you want. Just focus on settling in. We’ll talk soon.

I stopped walking.

That was it?

That was the message?

He was my parents lawyer. He's known me since I was a kid and this was all he could give me?

After knowing "everything" and not saying a damn word?

I felt my jaw clench.

Yeah, he was not escaping with a text.

I made a mental note to call him later and wring out every explanation he owed me.

I resumed walking toward campus, and by the time I reached my first class, I’d forced my expression into something neutral.

Or at least neutral-ish. I couldn't come tomy first class of the day looking like I wanted to punch someone

---

My schedule for the morning was all final-year business courses. I was expecting chaos. Unprepared lecturers. Maybe low standards.

I mean this was a different world with very different methods of function so I expected something different.

But surprisingly, shockingly, they weren’t bad.

In fact, they were good.

Almost too good.

One professor walked in, dropped his materials on the desk, and dove into an economic theory explanation so smooth it rivaled my Cambridge lecturers.

I was planning on hating the class and now I couldnt anymore. The professors had proved their competence.

I tried to find fault and if you knew me you'd know I was very precise with my fault finding.

I couldn't find it so now I had to give up and give them their flowers.

I took notes because the class was actually interesting.

Each course was better than the last. Detailed. Challenging. More advanced than I expected.

Okay, fine, so this place wasn’t entirely trash.

Just morally questionable.

At the end of my last business class, as everyone packed their bags, the professor’s voice called out:

“Mr. Leon, stay behind for a moment.”

I stiffened.

Oh great. I really would prefare not to hear whatever it was he had to say because I had a feeling it was not good.

I walked up to his desk. He adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly.

“You had an unusual transfer,” he began. “But I’ve reviewed your academic records. You’re exceptional.”

I blinked. “Thank you?”

I was surprised and happy at thre compliment.

“No need to worry about your final year project,” he said kindly. “Continue exactly what you were doing in Cambridge. Same supervisor outline, same research direction. We’ll coordinate with them on the academic side.”

Relief washed through me like warm water.

I didn't even know they could coordinate with my university. I didn't even know how they planned to I was dead right?

Officially according to Alister but. if they were able to I'll their words for it.

I mean they were supernatural I'm sure they would be able to figure something out plus they probably had people in powerful positions there or something.

I hadn’t even realized how much tension I’d been carrying in my shoulders.

“That’s… good,” I exhaled. “Really good.”

"Thanks." I whispered

He nodded. “You’ll do very well here, Leon.”

I thanked him and stepped out of the classroom, feeling a little lighter.

Well if they did then maybe they knew i was an omega.

What if one of I professors from there was the one to tell them I was an omega.

That would make sense too. I still didn't know how they knew but it would make sense as I met Alister after I came home so maybe they told them and they sent him.?

Speaking of Alister a smile spread across my face as i remembered I had Alister next.

And suddenly I felt excited.

Stupidly, wildly excited.

I was going to have so much fun

---

I arrived early.

Very early.

I walked into the empty classroom, picked the front seat, the dead center, directly facing the lectern, and sat down with the smuggest smile on my face.

He was going to suffer today.

Oh, he was going to suffer beautifully.

I planned on making a mess of him if I could.

Students trickled in. They were all giving me a once over. That was how I knew I was dressed hot enough.

I was causing whispers.

People were wondering who I was.

The room filled. Then, finally.

The door opened.

Alister walked in.

God. He looked good.

Annoyingly good.

Like someone airbrushed an angel and then made him even more handsome for the plot.

I could hear the whispers on just how hot he was. I couldn't even disagree he was gorgeous.

His eyes swept the classroom, landed on me. I wink at him and he froze for half a second.

Then he kept walking, pretending he hadn’t just malfunctioned.

I crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in my chair, smiling to myself.

He cleared his throat, set his materials down, and began teaching.

Well… attempting to.

Because every few minutes, without fail, his eyes would drift to me.

Sometimes for a second.

Sometimes for longer.

And each time, his sentence would fumble.

“The, uh ... the shifter integration... sorry... the integration laws of ... the... ”

He cleared his throat.

The students looked mildly confused.

I felt electric.

Alive.

Powerful.

This was better than therapy.

it made me feel like I had him in the palm of my hand and that felt intoxicatingly powerful

I didn’t even try to hide my staring. I watched him openly. Shamelessly. Every movement, every inhale, every nervous swallow. I wanted him to feel it. Wanted him to know I was doing it on purpose.

And judging by the light sheen of sweat on his neck, he knew.

He gripped the edges of the lectern like he needed physical grounding. His jaw kept clenching. His fingers kept twitching. His voice dropped an octave, then jumped, then steadied, then trembled again.

He was falling apart and trying so hard to look normal.

It was adorable.

it was entertaining.

I enjoyed every second of his torture.

He deserved it for yesterday.

I made an even more bold gesture blowing him a kiss.

He looked frustrated. Angry

When the class finally ended, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

Students began to leave.

But Alister didn’t move.

No.

He stood there seething.

Oh he was pissed and I was enjoying watcving him organizing papers that didn’t need organizing.

I smirked.

He was absolutely going to ask me to stay.

It was written all over his face.

In the twitch of his jaw.

The fury on his face. He looked like he wanted to punch me in the face.

In the quiet rage swimming in his irises.

He fuming

And I…

I was thriving.

One by one, students filtered out. The room emptied.

Alister kept glancing at the door like he was waiting for the last witness to disappear before he committed a crime.

Finally, only the two of us remained.

I sat still, chin resting on my hand, smiling like a cat with a mouse trapped under its paw.

He stared at me with his eyes filled with rage

He was deciding whether or not to ask me to stay behind.

He was contemplating whR to do it me.

He opened is mouth

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“Leon,” he finally said quietly. “Stay behind. We need to talk.”

I nearly laughed.

Victory wasn’t mine yet, not fully, but this was a battle won.

I was the winner. I had gotten exactly what I wanted from him and he didn't even realize he had played right into my trap.

Or maybe he realized but still fell. That made it even better.

He was obviously loosing and he knew it

And I was enjoying every second of the war.