Raven Pov:
I'll get to the nosebleed story in a minute, but first, let me finish telling you about how my first roommate dumped me before I even had the chance to settle in. So back to were I left you off. Where was I? ooh yes, the disgusted look.
Bratty Roommate
"Ugh," she muttered, barely even looking at me. "I didn't expect to get stuck with you."
I froze for a moment, still processing her tone. It wasn't the warm, welcoming reaction I was hoping for.
I could already tell—this girl had "brat" written all over her.
She muttered something under her breath about "sickness entering her space," clearly trying to imply I was some sort of contagious disaster. Well, I guess I'd just have to add "untouchable freak" to my ever-growing list of titles.
"You know," I said, finally speaking to her, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "if you're that worried about my 'sickness,' maybe you should find a new room. I'm sure you could find something a bit more... sanitary. Don't want you catching my abomination."
She covered her nose dramatically, standing up went to one of the bedroom. I didn't give a care. I went on to continue looking around.
The furniture was simple but elegant, the kind of minimalist design that screamed "expensive" without being gaudy. There was a small living area in the center of the room with two chairs and a low coffee table, perfect for when I wanted to pretend I had friends who might come over (though I doubted that would ever happen).
But the best part? The kitchen. Okay, so it wasn't a full-blown chef's kitchen, but it was more than I'd ever hoped for. A compact counter, a fridge, a stove, and even a tiny sink. It was like my own little apartment—a self-contained two-bedroom suite. I could practically hear my father's voice in my head, screaming about how "disgusting" it was for me to live in a place like this, but I couldn't care less. I loved it.
She later came out with her suitcase with exaggerated care, as if she were handling a bomb. It was pathetic.
"I'm not sharing a room with that," she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "Sorry, but you're contagious. I'm not about to get sick just because you've got some pathetic illness."
And with that, she started dragging her suitcase toward the door, throwing a final look of disgust at me.
"Don't touch anything of mine," she added, slamming the door behind her as she stormed off down the hallway.
I blinked, dumbfounded for a second. What just happened? She had barely even given me a chance to say anything.
But then, as if the universe were playing some cruel joke on her, I started to laugh.
"Oh, goddess, thank you," I muttered to myself, barely able to hold back my grin.
She had just given me the entire room. No roommate, no one to share space with, just me, myself, and I.
I stood there for a moment, taking it in. The room was split—on one side, the small living room with the couch and kitchenette, and on the other, the two separate bedrooms. There was a small, private bathroom that I could already tell was going to be a lifesaver. It was sleek, with marble counters and a shower large enough for two people (not that anyone was going to join me).
The living area had a couple of couches, a coffee table with a few magazines scattered on it, and a little kitchenette in the corner. It wasn't huge, but it felt cozy and intimate, just the way I liked it.
I walked past the living room and entered the first bedroom on the left. It was mine, and I was going to make it my sanctuary. The bed was already neatly made—somewhere between comfy and sterile, but that was easy to fix. A small dresser sat in the corner, and a few hooks on the wall for jackets or whatever else. It wasn't massive, but it was enough for me.
Then, I turned to the second bedroom, the one my now-absent roommate had been so eager to vacate. It was nearly identical to mine, save for a few personal touches. There were bright pink accents, a vanity with a full-length mirror, and what looked like half a dozen skincare products scattered across the counter.
I smirked. The contrast between this room and mine was going to be hilarious.
"Well, thanks for the upgrade," I muttered, turning back to my own space.
Grinning to myself as I set my suitcase down on the bed, my mood already improving. I couldn't wait to organize this place to my liking.
I took a moment to look around, taking in the spacious room. No more noisy, obnoxious roommates. No more cramped spaces. It was all mine. I could finally breathe.
"Thanks for the room, bratty roommate," I muttered under my breath, smiling to myself as I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the bed. "This isn't so bad after all."
The best part? The whole place was mine. No one to share it with, no bratty roommate who'd turn her nose up at me. I could finally breathe.
I flopped down onto my bed in my room, stretching out my arms. This was way better than what I'd expected, even if it had come with a side of drama.
Maybe things here weren't going to be so bad after all. Wrong.
Now I think its time I tell you about how started to nose bleed.
{First class}
First day of school, and things are already ten times worse than I could've imagined. It was stupid of me to even think I might survive the day in a classroom full of alphas—scratch that—wannabe alphas. So there I was, walking into the classroom, hoping to just keep my head down, mind my damn business, and make it through the day without anyone noticing me. But, of course, that was too much to ask. My fate, as always, had other plans.
If I had to picture my fate, it would look like an old, grumpy, shaggy-haired granny, with no teeth and a bad attitude, just waiting to mess up my day, every day, because apparently that's what I'm destined for.
Okay, okay, back to the disaster of my life.
So, there I was, walking into what was supposed to be my class for the next few months. I was already getting weird looks, but that wasn't unusual. I was used to that by now. But then I froze. Because in front of me stood two alpha assholes, each practically oozing toxic arrogance.
On one side was a red-headed guy—his hair so bright it practically screamed for attention. He was standing face-to-face with none other than Mark, my stepbrother, surrounded by his usual crew of followers: a couple of bimbo girls and some guys with equally inflated egos. Birds of a feather, I guess.
And there I was, in the middle of it all, a tiny omega—who didn't belong in this room, didn't belong in this world of alphas. But, of course, no one knew that. Not even Mark. My father had made sure of that. No one would ever know that I wasn't just a sickly alpha, but a weak omega.
The second I stepped foot into the room, the atmosphere shifted. All their eyes were on me. All that testosterone and alpha energy turned towards me like I was the target, the prey. I felt their gazes bore into me, and I could feel their auras pressing in from every angle, suffocating me. My heart raced. My throat tightened.
Then Mark, that stupid excuse for a man, turned his attention away from the red-headed guy and locked eyes on me. He looked me up and down with that smug smirk of his, the one that made my blood boil. I knew he was about to do something idiotic. He always did.
"Hey, let's make this fun," Mark said, loud enough for everyone to hear. He nodded toward the red-head. "Let's see who can make her submit first. Whoever gets her to submit to his wolf wins this round."
I blinked, unable to comprehend what I was hearing.
What the actual fuck?!
Before I could even begin to react, the whole class was already turning their attention to me, like I was some kind of experiment they were all dying to participate in. Every single one of them, alphas all, focused on me with those smug, cocky expressions.
And just like that, the air shifted again, and the pressure in the room doubled. The alpha auras flared to life around me, like invisible fists punching me from all directions, pushing me down, making it hard to breathe.
I tried to hold my ground, but it was impossible.
Because I didn't have an alpha aura.
I didn't even have a wolf.
I was nothing compared to them. Nothing but an omega pretending to be something I wasn't. A broken mistake in the eyes of my father, and now here I was—surrounded by a group of alphas, with Mark egging them on like some twisted show.
I could feel the burn of their power pushing down on me, each one of them trying to get me to submit, trying to make me crumble. It was suffocating, relentless, like a hundred-pound weight pressing down on my chest.
My vision blurred. My body trembled. I could feel my knees buckling, my legs giving out from the sheer pressure.
And then, just like that, I collapsed.
I hit the floor with a thud, the world spinning, the room spinning. My breath came in ragged gasps as I tried to push myself back up, but it was like I was trapped in quicksand.
The room erupted in laughter.
I heard Mark's voice, smug and triumphant, cutting through the haze of my thoughts. "See? Pathetic. I told you, she's nothing. No wonder they kept her locked up. She's too weak to be an alpha."
The words cut deeper than any physical blow. They had no idea. They had no fucking clue. And the worst part? They never would.
The laughter kept echoing in my ears as I was helped—more like dragged—to my feet by one of the other students. They didn't understand. I wasn't sick. I wasn't weak because of some curse, like my father had told everyone. I was an omega—a fact that could never come to light. Ever.
By the time the teacher walked in, I was still kneeling on the floor, blood dripping from my nose, my body trembling from the pressure. The alphas had started to lose interest, their attention turning elsewhere. But not before one last cruel comment from Mark, who whispered to his friends, "She's a joke, man. Just look at her."
The teacher didn't seem to notice any of that, of course. She just sighed when she saw me, shaking her head like I was a burden. "Raven, you poor thing. This is why I told you to get checked up if your sickness acted up again."
Sickness. That's what everyone thought I had—some "mysterious illness" my father had spun to cover up the truth. No one knew I was an omega. No one knew I was different.
She barely acknowledged me as I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my jacket. "You should go to the Delta office and get yourself sorted out," she said dismissively, before turning to start the lesson.
I didn't argue. There was no point. I grabbed my things, still feeling the weight of their laughter pressing down on me. The air in the classroom felt like a vacuum, suffocating me with every breath.
I barely remembered the walk to the Delta office. My head was spinning, and I could still taste blood in my mouth. The world was fuzzy, the dizziness from the alpha pressure still swirling around in my head.
I tried to steady myself as I walked down the hallway, wiping the blood from my face. The school was quieter now, and for a moment, I thought I might actually get some peace.
But then I bumped into him.
Lucian.
Of course.