Mate? or Trouble
728 Words
“Well, that was awkward,” Justin muttered, yanking at his collar like it had personally betrayed him. His eyes trailed in disbelief down the hallway where the twins had disappeared moments earlier, their scent still lingering like an expensive, forbidden perfume.
Beside him, his beta, Gilbert “Gil” Zero, smirked but said nothing, watching his alpha wrestle with what could only be described as a hormonal malfunction.
On the other side of the corridor, Connor Fullion was nearly breathless, his chest rising with something close to panic—or wonder. “Wh-why were they staring so hard?” he stammered, cheeks flushing crimson as he turned to face his trio of friends—Lucas Alistair, James Harrison, and Laben Frost—desperate for moral support or at least a reason to keep breathing.
Lucas, ever the calm beta, gave a small shrug and said gently, “I think those were the Northland twins.”
Connor froze. “The Northland—what?” he repeated, eyes wide.
Unfortunately, Alpha Justin Shrubered had overheard the comment and immediately spun on his heel like a storm about to make landfall.
“What?”
he barked, staring down the hall that the twins had disappeared down and back at Lucas. “What are they doing here? Everyone knows who they are! They’re literally the twins! The ones no one dares to approach because they’ll either ignore you, glare!” or say something sarcastic that makes you question all of your life choices.
“I knew they looked familiar,” Justin added more quietly to his inner circle. Then, almost to himself, “And why did he smell so... good? Soothing, even. That’s not normal.”
Delta Gordon Fitchburg, who had already opened a book in an attempt to recover from the stare-down earlier, closed it with a decisive thud. “Well,” he began thoughtfully, “it could mean he’s your mate. Or—and this is a big or—he might just be about to go into heat, which is highly unlikely because, fun fact, he invented that drug that blocks pheromone reception entirely. Unless, of course, the drug doesn’t work on the person’s actual mate. Which—”
“Gordon,” Gil interrupted with a raised brow. “Breathe.”
Gordon inhaled, nodded once, and said, “Still. Fascinating.”
Howard Kingsley, the ever-curious gamma, leaned forward as if trying to smell the residual air. “I thought something smelled somewhat like strawberries mixed with flowers and arrogance.”
Justin ran a hand down his tired face, which was still handsome despite the bags under his eyes from another sleepless night. “This semester is going to be hell.”
Meanwhile, Alpha Connor looked positively mortified. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally muttered, “Was she not the most beautiful person you’ve ever locked eyes with? I mean—she even smelled... amazing. But not, like, in a weird way. Just... she had a smell. And it was good.”
Silence. Then Connor covered his face with both hands. “That sounded weird, didn’t it?”
His friends valiantly tried not to laugh.
Lucas coughed into his sleeve.
Laben turned to the wall.
James patted Connor’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “Not that weird. We’ve definitely heard worse from you.”
Connor peeked through his fingers. “Thanks, James.”
James grinned. “This is exactly why you, of all people, should never be celibate.”
Connor squinted at him.
“Okay, okay!” James raised both hands in surrender. “I just mean... you’re too... how do I say this without insulting your masculinity?”
“Carefully,” Laben muttered.
“I mean you’re not weak,” James clarified quickly. “You’re just... humble. And shy. But when you’re quiet, you give off this brooding alpha from a gothic romance novel kind of energy. People eat that up. They don’t even talk to you because they’re too busy projecting fantasy plots onto your silence.”
Connor blinked. “That was... oddly flattering.”
James shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
Justin sighed, glancing at the others. “This is going to be a very interesting semester.”
And just like that, the two alphas—and their extremely nosy, loyal, and ridiculous group of friends—were all tangled in something far bigger than themselves.
- Writer
