Diego
Suddenly, the school president is everywhere—crowding my space no matter where I go. No matter how hard I scowl, it doesn't seem to work. It's like my words go in one ear and straight out the other.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare up at him and say, "Why are you always up in my space, brute?"
His brows knit together, like I just said something shocking or offensive—something he's never heard in his entire existence.
He slams his large hands against the library wall, trapping me between his arms. "You don't know who I am?" he demands, scrunching his nose and narrowing his eyes with more aggression.
He's infuriatingly handsome—but he behaves like his looks are wasted on him.
My gaze drops to his blazer. It's the first time I've seen it unbuttoned. Usually, he's annoyingly pristine, every detail in place like the perfect little president he pretends to be.
I tilt my head and feign innocence, shaking it slightly—just to confuse the bastard more.
He straightens, grabs the bottom of his blazer, and yanks it down like a curtain, exposing his name tag and title, practically begging me to look. But I don't. My eyes stay fixed on the natural slant of his lashes—long, brown, and unfairly elegant.
"My name is Bruce Russell. Not 'brute,'" he says stiffly.
I snort, trying not to laugh. "But 'brute' suits you better than 'Bruce.'"
His nostrils flare like a bull about to charge. "Call me that again and you'll be begging for my mercy."
I blink slowly, pout, and lean back just enough to taunt him. "Was that supposed to be a threat… Brute?"
Oh, I definitely pressed the red button on this beast.
His jaw tightens. One eye twitches—especially the one framed by a patch of vitiligo. His nostrils flare hard, and I feel his warm breath brushing over my skin as he closes the distance between us, invading every inch of my space.
It's kind of hilarious how one name can get under his skin so much—especially considering he's been calling me names for three days straight while stalking me around campus.
Princess.The chosen omega.
He says I act like a chosen omega. Whatever that means.
"It's not a threat," he growls, voice low and smooth like velvet over a blade. "It's a dare, kitten."
Now I'm a kitten? Great. Perfect.
There are rules here—rules he knows by heart. As school president, he won't dare lay a finger on me. That's why he torments me in private. My friends have no idea that Bruce Russell has been tailing me everywhere like a shadow.
In the library.Near the restrooms—just because my route passes his classroom.Even then, he's waiting by the door to block my way or hiss something ridiculous.
I've asked him a dozen times why he does it, but he never answers. He just walks away like I never said a word.
Lucas groans and drops his head on the desk. "I'm hungry."
"I get it," Jules sighs. "Libraries are boring as hell."
I nod. "Time's not even moving." We all look up at the oversized clock on the wall.
Lucas lifts his head. "Let's talk about something more fun than dusty textbooks."
Jules' smile widens, nodding eagerly.
"I think Lian's handsome," Lucas blurts out, then hides his face in his hands.
We all chuckle.
Maybe I should loosen up too. I've been too tense—still feeling guilty for enjoying anything here. But the last time I talked to Caleb, he seemed... okay. He said he'd made a friend at school.
Maybe it's time I let myself connect with Lucas and Jules—for real.
"I agree," I murmur, noticing how Lucas keeps stealing glances past my shoulder.
Lian is sitting two desks away from us—with Bruce, of course.
Lian Kaito: almond-shaped Mongolian-black eyes, sharp nose, fair skin like Lucas and Jules. His black mullet falls across his ears and neck. No facial hair. Pierced ears—lobes and upper shells—covered in sleek silver rings. He radiates charisma, even when he's quiet. Same height as Bruce. Strong jawline. Muscular, lean.
Yeah. I see what Lucas sees. They'd look good together.
"Anyway, when are your birthdays?" I ask, realizing I never returned the question they once asked me.
Jules answers, "Same month as yours—just different dates."
"How do you know that? I never told you my birthdate."
Lucas snorts. "You circled it on the calendar on your desk, genius."
Oh. Right. I forgot I share a dorm with them.
We've all been so busy—with classes, assignments, practice. Schedules change every day. Next week, we'll be jogging at 5 AM daily. Great.
"Who do you find attractive? From our class—or others?" Jules asks, his brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I look down at my book, pretending to think, though I know the answer.
"No one."
Jules frowns. I ignore it. "What about you?"
He glances toward the corner of the library. I follow his gaze just in time to see him look away.
Two tables sit there. One with five Alphas laughing. The other, quieter, holds two Alphas in deep conversation.
Before I can figure out who he was looking at, my eyes—traitorously—slide back to Bruce.
He's already watching me.
He hisses under his breath. Lian notices and follows his gaze to me too.
Bruce leans back in his chair, twirling a finger over the page of his book while his eyes stab into mine like daggers.
"Whatever you did to Bruce... it was serious," Lucas murmurs.
I shrug. "He's just acting gnarly. I didn't do anything."
"His eyes say a thousand words in one look," Jules mutters, before we all lose focus and start laughing again.
But even when I'm not looking at Bruce… I feel him.
The bell rings. Thank god. Breakfast time.
We pack up our books. I return the library ones to their shelves.
On the way to the cafeteria, I ask, "Can you guys dish up for me? I need to use the restroom first."
Lucas and Jules know my breakfast order by heart—bread or buns, bacon, eggs, apple, apple juice. They nod and head toward the stairs while I turn back.
Only now do I realize how badly I need to pee.
I rush into the restroom, push into a stall, and sigh in relief as I sit, letting a soft moan escape.
Two minutes later, I'm done. I wash my hands, dry them, and push open the restroom door—
And, as expected, there he is.
Bruce. Leaning against the wall like a bouncer. Arms folded. Waiting for me.
I roll my eyes and sigh. I really don't have the energy for his nonsense.
His lips part slightly. His brows furrow, shadowing those sharp eyes.
This guy has deep, serious issues.
I tilt my head and slide my hands into my pockets, giving him my full attention.
He doesn't say anything.
"It's breakfast time, in case you didn't notice," I say flatly.
He breathes slowly, that familiar warmth brushing my skin. "I'm the president of this school," he finally says, voice hard. "And you're just a third-class omega who walks around like you're the chosen one."
His tone is cutting, but weirdly—he flinches right after saying it. Maybe because his voice cracked. Or maybe because I didn't react the way he expected.
With a casual shrug, I reply, "Well, you call me 'princess' anyway. Maybe I am the chosen omega. Just not yours. Maybe someone else's."
Oops.That must've been the kill shot.
His hand slams the wall next to my face, and I flinch. The second one follows—thud. I gasp, eyes slamming shut.
"What did you say, kitten?" he growls.
I bite my lower lip. My heart skips.What the hell did I just say?
His body swallows mine. His blazer gapes open, like he's about to wrap me in it.
I slowly look up. He's looming—towering—his death-stare locked on me.
He's 6'3". I'm 6'1". But the difference feels like mountains.
He grimaces deeper. "Repeat it," he snarls. "Say it again."
Gosh, even furious, he's stupidly handsome.
I pout. "Uhm..."
Grrrgle.
My stomach betrays me.
His expression shifts instantly—softens. He glances down, hears it again.
He steps back. Slowly. Slides his hands into his pockets.
"Go," he croaks.
I don't waste a second. I sprint out of there.
When I reach the canteen, Lucas and Jules are already at our table, food waiting for me.
"You were with Bruce, weren't you?" they ask in unison.
I nod and pull a face. "I don't know what he wants. The guy clearly doesn't like me."
"Think back," Jules says, munching his burger. "Did you say something when you first arrived?"
"I remember everything. And no—I did nothing."
Then, like clockwork, the room shifts.
Heads turn.
Bruce enters the canteen like he owns the building. Hands in pockets. Confident, slow stride. His eyes immediately lock onto mine—like he's forced to look.
"Maybe he wants you," Lucas says, squinting playfully.
I roll my eyes. "Impossible. He probably has a mate—a female one. Not everyone here is into male omegas or Alphas."
And just like that, our table gets two new guests.
Bruce.And Lian.
Bruce drags a chair next to mine and drops into it.
I look at him, confused.
Lian sits beside Lucas—who immediately fidgets, cheeks pink, but secretly thrilled.
Bruce's breathing is loud, uneven, almost ragged—like he just ran a marathon.
And, once again, he's crowding my space.