Rayan didn't believe in best friends—only in temporary allies who hadn't betrayed him yet.
He sat stiffly in the back row of the registration hall, watching students bustle about with bright eyes and careless chatter. They were excited, eager to make memories, to find love. He wasn't.
He was here to survive.
"Lee Rayan," the registrar called, flipping through a clipboard. "Omega. Room 204-C. You've been assigned a roommate—"
"I requested a solo dorm," Rayan interrupted calmly, not looking up.
The woman blinked, then scanned his file again. "Says here you're a mid-tier Omega. You don't qualify for isolation."
Mid-tier. He had forged that classification himself, carefully choosing the most forgettable label. Anything too high and he'd be dragged into elite monitoring programs. Anything too low and predators would circle like sharks.
Rayan bit back a sigh. "I have scent sensitivity issues. Medical."
"You'll have to take it up with Admin."
He gave her a tight nod and took the keys.
As he stepped outside, the early autumn air burned his lungs. Not from the temperature, but from the rising panic pressing against his ribs. A roommate meant exposure. Risk. Witnesses.
He'd spent years hiding what he was. An Omega who didn't go into heats. Whose scent suppressants worked too well. Whose blood had once fetched a price on the black market.
He clenched the keys in his fist until the metal bit into his palm.
Room 204-C. Just get in. Just assess. Just control.
The dorm hall smelled faintly of citrus and sterilizers, freshly cleaned for the incoming semester. Rayan walked in with measured steps, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He moved like he always did—in silence. In shadow.
He reached the room. Slid the key in. Clicked open the door.
And froze.
A duffel bag already lay on the lower bed. A sleek black coat hung by the door. The scent in the room was faint, yet undeniably Alpha—clean, woodsy, and dangerously calm.
Then he heard it.
A soft, familiar voice from behind.
"You still walk like you're being hunted."
Rayan turned slowly.
Standing at the window, sunlight casting a halo around his frame, was Kael Riven.
Tall. Sharply handsome. Eyes like a storm before lightning. His best friend since high school.
Or rather, the one person Rayan had tolerated long enough to be considered a friend.
His mouth felt dry. "What are you doing here?"
Kael's lips quirked into a smile. "Didn't you check the dorm registry?"
"You requested this."
"Of course." He stepped closer. "You're the only Omega I trust."
Rayan didn't flinch—but only because he'd practiced the art of stillness for years. Inside, warning bells screamed. Kael was supposed to be in a different dorm, different faculty even. Had that changed? Or had Kael always planned this?
"You could've told me," Rayan said coldly.
Kael's expression softened, but his gaze never blinked. "Would you have stayed if I did?"
That wasn't a real question. They both knew the answer.
Kael was the reason he hadn't bolted two years ago. The only Alpha whose scent didn't make him nauseous. The one who always stood between him and attention. And yet—Rayan had always felt that tether, too taut, too close, like a leash in disguise.
Kael sat on the bed, his body relaxed but eyes alert. "I missed you. We barely talked over the summer."
Rayan dropped his bag. "I was busy."
"Running?"
"I don't run."
Kael's smile curved higher. "No. You disappear."
Silence settled between them like static. Then Kael said something that made Rayan's stomach twist:
"You know, I never understood why you hide your scent so well. Even in sleep. Most Omegas slip. But you—" His voice dipped. "Not even once."
Rayan's fingers curled.
He couldn't tell if Kael was guessing or if he knew.
"You observing me while I sleep now?" Rayan asked, dry.
Kael leaned back, eyes dark. "Always."
Rayan turned toward the window, hiding his reaction. Outside, students were laughing. Living.
He was in a room with a predator. Not just any predator—but the one he'd let in.
And it was only Day One.
.
.
The first night in the dorm passed without sleep.
Rayan lay still on the top bunk, eyes wide open, body curled in a position of alert stillness. He kept his breathing steady. Kept one ear tuned to the movements below him. Every time Kael shifted, a creak of springs or rustle of sheets, his senses flared.
Always. That was what Kael had said.
He meant it.
Rayan had never let his guard down around him completely—not in the years of friendship, not during the late-night study sessions, not even when Kael had once beaten a group of alphas bloody for cornering him after class.
Back then, he had thought Kael was simply protective.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
By morning, the air was thick with unshed tension.
Rayan slid down silently and headed to the sink in their shared bathroom. As he washed his face, he saw it—the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremble in his fingers. He scrubbed harder, trying to erase the vulnerability.
"Sleep well?" Kael's voice drifted in from the main room, too casual.
Rayan didn't answer.
He toweled his face, applied scent-suppressing cream, and double-checked his inhibitor patch hidden under the collarbone. It pulsed gently beneath his skin, a faint warmth that assured him it was still working. He had hacked the settings long ago—enough to fool scent detection scans but not enough to attract administrative attention.
His scent didn't exist unless he allowed it to.
Kael stood by the door, already dressed, hair slicked back, expression unreadable.
"I brought coffee," he said, holding out a cup.
Rayan took it, wordless.
They walked to class together, the silence between them oddly familiar. Kael was good at pretending to be normal in public—smiling, greeting others, cracking jokes. He played the charismatic Alpha role like a second skin.
But Rayan saw the way Kael's gaze flicked to anyone who got too close to him.
He saw the flicker of irritation when a Beta bumped into Rayan and dared to say "Sorry" with a smile.
He noticed the faint twitch in Kael's jaw when another Alpha asked if Rayan wanted help carrying his books.
Possession.
It was always there.
Like a leash Kael hadn't pulled yet—just coiled, resting, waiting.
By afternoon, Rayan was already planning his move.
He couldn't stay in that room. He needed to find a private dorm, or at least a Beta roommate. Kael's presence was too tight, too close, like the pressure before a glass shatters.
As soon as classes ended, he made his way to the dormitory admin block. The office smelled like coffee, ink, and faint Alpha musk. A middle-aged Beta woman sat at the front desk, typing away.
"I'd like to request a room reassignment," he said quietly.
She barely glanced up. "What's the reason?"
"Medical," he said again. "I have trouble sleeping with Alpha pheromones nearby."
She finally looked up, frowning. "That's not noted in your file."
"I can get documentation."
"We only allow reassignments if there's proof of health risk or physical altercation. Did your roommate—?"
"No," Rayan said quickly. "It's not like that."
She tapped her keyboard. "Room 204-C… Kael Riven, right?"
The look on her face shifted subtly. Recognition. Hesitation.
And then—denial.
"Sorry," she said. "Reassignments are closed for the semester unless there's an emergency."
Rayan's stomach dropped.
He stepped outside, pulse thudding. He pulled out his phone, about to message someone from his black-market contacts, when he felt a presence behind him.
"Trying to get rid of me already?"
He turned.
Kael stood there, hands in his pockets, smile pleasant—but his eyes were anything but.
"How long were you—?"
"Long enough," Kael said. "You could've just told me. I wouldn't take it personally."
Rayan exhaled. "I need space, Kael."
"You'll have it. Inside the room."
"That's not what I meant."
Kael stepped forward, voice soft but laced with iron. "You don't trust me."
"That's not news."
A beat passed.
Then Kael smiled again, and Rayan hated how charming it looked to everyone else.
"I'd say I'm hurt," Kael murmured, leaning in closer, "but we both know you've trusted me more than anyone. You let me near you. Let me touch you. Let me in."
Rayan's skin prickled.
"And now?" Kael's voice dropped. "Now, I live one floor away from you. I sleep six feet below you. You think I'm going to give that up… because of what? A panic attack?"
Rayan's nails dug into his palm. "You're making it sound like I owe you something."
Kael's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"No," he said. "I'm just reminding you what you already gave me."
That night, Rayan moved all his valuables into his locker and set a hidden camera near his bed. Not because he thought Kael would attack him in his sleep.
But because he knew Kael wouldn't.
No—Kael was the kind of Alpha who waited. Who watched. Who wrapped barbed wire in velvet.
And somewhere deep inside Rayan…
A part of him was terrified that he didn't want to run.