CATCH THE OMEGA
871 Words
AIDEN
I was halfway through pretending to study when Liam stopped pacing and looked at me .
“Hey,” he said. “You’re acting weird.”
I scoffed, forcing a lazy stretch. “Define weird.”
“Too quiet. No posturing. No trash talk.” He narrowed his eyes. “That’s not very alpha of you.”
I smirked on instinct—automatic, practiced. “Sorry, forgot I had to snarl every ten minutes to keep my card.”
Instead, he lowered his voice. “You know what tonight is, right?”
My stomach dropped before he even said it.
“ No.”
“Catch the Omega.”
Once a semester. No warning. Alarms go off. Campus locks down. Anyone who even looks like they don’t belong gets chased, cornered, dragged into the spotlight. Officially, it’s a tradition. Unofficially, it’s a purge.
I kept my expression flat.
“That’s a myth,” I said lightly. “There are no omegas here.”
Liam held my gaze. “Exactly.”
“Just stay in tonight,” he said finally. “Doors locked. No wandering. No heroics.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I replied.
I meant to mean it.
The door slammed shut behind us.
The emergency lights hummed overhead, washing the narrow storage corridor in a sickly yellow glow. Outside, the alarms throbbed on, distant but constant.
Kaito released my wrist and turned, jaw tight. “What the hell was that?”
I straightened immediately.
“What was what ?” I shot back. “You tackled me like I was about to get jumped.”
His eyes narrowed. “You bolted.”
“So did half the campus.”
“They weren’t leaking aggression like a cornered animal.”
That made my stomach flip.
I laughed . “You serious? That’s your takeaway?”
Kaito stepped closer, studying my every movement. “Your scent spiked. Hard. That doesn’t just happen.”
I rolled my shoulders, forcing a lazy smirk. “Guess the tradition’s working. Gets everyone amped.”
He didn’t buy it. I could tell by the way his gaze lingered . Outside, someone yelled triumphantly. Laughter followed.
My pulse kicked again. I forced it down, nails biting into my palms.
“Look,” I said, lowering my voice, keeping it steady. “You dragged me in here. Door’s locked. If this is some lecture about self-control, save it for tomorrow.”
Then Kaito exhaled slowly. “You’re right. Bad timing.”
He leaned back against the wall. “Whatever that was, you kept it together fast. That’s not nothing.”
I shrugged. “I’m not stupid.”
“No,” he said. “You’re not.”
The alarms outside wailed again, closer this time. Footsteps passed by the door. Someone rattled a handle down the hall.
I stayed still.
Inside, my instincts were screaming.
Kaito glanced at the ceiling, then back at me. “We’re stuck here until the sweep ends. Twenty minutes. Maybe more.”
“Fine by me,” I said. “Less running.”
His mouth twitched, almost amused.
The alarms finally died.
Kaito straightened from the wall and checked his phone. “Sweep’s over.”
“Great,” I said, a little too quickly. “Can we get out of here before someone decides to check storage rooms?”
He tried the door again. It opened this time with a dull click.
Cool hallway air rushed in. I stepped out first, grateful for the space. Then Kaito paused.
“…Hey.”
I stopped. Turned back. “What.”
He hesitated, clearly debating whether to say it at all. Then, with a shrug that tried to make it sound unimportant, he asked, “Did you shower before the alarms?”
My pulse spiked but I kept my face neutral. “What?”
He waved a hand vaguely. “You smell like citrus. Stronger than earlier.”
I forced a laugh. “That’s your big takeaway? We almost got tagged and you’re critiquing my hygiene?”
“I’m not critiquing,” he said, brow furrowing. “It’s just… not a standard alpha scent. Thought maybe you switched soap.”
“Yeah,” I said easily. “New body wash. Liam keeps buying weird stuff. ‘Invigorating’ or whatever.”
“Huh,” he said finally. “Works, I guess.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re the type to comment on people’s scents.”
I shrugged, already moving down the hall. “Congratulations. You’ve discovered consumer variety.”
He fell into step beside me, letting it drop.
My pheromones were still leaking.
We reached the stairwell.
Kaito stopped again, hand on the rail. “You handled yourself well back there.”
I glanced at him. “That’s what you pulled me in for? A performance review?”
“No,” he said. “Just… don’t do that again.”
“Run?”
“Lose control,” he corrected.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Then he nodded once and started down the stairs.
I followed, heart still racing, scent finally under lock.
He didn’t know what I was.
But he’d smelled it.
And in an all-alpha school, even that was dangerous.
- Writer
