Chapter 2 — Eyes That Shouldn't Notice
The next morning, Lawrence walked into the courtyard with the weight of yesterday pressing against his chest.
Every whisper, every sidelong glance, every curious stare reminded him that something had shifted. He wasn't invisible anymore.
And the reason was George Mathews.
Lawrence tried to avoid the main pathways, slipping through side halls and staircases to reach his first class. But of course, the universe didn't seem to care about his plans.
George Mathews appeared at the far end of the courtyard, standing beneath the shade of a tree. Just standing. Observing. Waiting.
Lawrence froze.
He ducked behind a column, but George's eyes were sharp. Like a predator, they scanned, calculating, following. Lawrence felt a flush of heat—part fear, part something else that made his chest tighten.
He shouldn't be feeling this. He was a careful omega. Invisible was safe.
But George didn't seem to care about rules.
By the time Lawrence reached his classroom, he felt like he'd run a mile. He slid into a desk near the back, trying to disappear. But every glance toward the window, every movement in the hall drew him back to that impossible presence: George watching, always watching.
Lunch was no better.
Lawrence tried to keep his tray low, his voice soft when he spoke to a few friendly betas. But every now and then, his peripheral vision caught movement. George. Across the hall, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, the corner of his mouth tight, eyes like ice.
Lawrence lowered his gaze, but he could still feel it. The way George looked at him was not just observation. It was measuring. Testing. Judging. And in some instinctive, confusing way… wanting.
When he accidentally dropped his spoon, the cafeteria fell silent. George was already there, bending down to pick it up, their fingers brushing again. Lawrence jerked his hand away, cheeks burning, heart pounding.
"Careful," George murmured, not quite a warning, not quite a compliment. Just… his voice. Low. Smooth. Terrible.
Lawrence fled to the library after that, hoping to find sanctuary among dusty shelves and the scent of old books. But no matter where he went, he could feel George's presence lingering, like a shadow, like a storm cloud waiting.
He tried to focus on the words of his textbook, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the alpha. To the way he moved. To the way he spoke. To the way he had looked at him yesterday… and today… and every time Lawrence blinked.
By the time classes ended, Lawrence was exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, instinctively. He tried to convince himself it was nothing. Just a top alpha noticing a new omega.
But deep down, he knew better.
George Mathews didn't notice things.
He owned them.
And for some reason, Lawrence was certain the alpha had already decided he wanted him.