The air in the cramped, tile-walled bathroom of St. Jude’s International Academy was suffocating, thick with the sharp, metallic scent of an Alpha’s dominance and the cloying, distressed sweetness of my vanilla.

Jaxen Throne zipped his pants and checked his reflection, his voice cutting through the silence like ice. "Hope you enjoyed that. Don't get ideas, though. I'm not claiming a weak omega. Beat it."

Standing at just 5'4", my fragile frame felt completely shattered. I fumbled with my own clothes, my fingers shaking so violently that I could barely move the fabric of my uniform. I kept my head down, letting my light blonde hair curtain my face to hide the shine of tears I refused to let fall.

"I’m well aware of my place, Sir," I whispered, my voice cracking but sharp. "But don't flatter yourself. Fate might be cruel enough to tie us together, but even a 'pathetic' Omega has enough pride to loathe the man holding the leash. You’ve had what you wanted... now please, let me go to my class."

Before I could take a step, his heavy hand snatched my wrist, pulling me violently back against his 6'2" frame. His hot breath flared against my neck. "YOU DON’T GET TO WALK AWAY FIRST." His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Pride? YOU SMELL LIKE TEARS AND VANILLA. Pathetic." His grip tightened, his knuckles bruising my skin as his eyes flashed gold. "Your brother’s safe… FOR NOW. Disobey me again, and I’ll let the whole school know why you’re always flinching." He yanked me closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "RUN, AND I’LL BREAK YOUR PRETTY LITTLE KNEES."

I froze. A sudden, sharp anger finally cut through the heavy haze of humiliation. Forcing myself to look up, my purple-pink eyes burned with a desperate defiance through my unshed tears. "You're... you're threatening my brother? What kind of Alpha uses a child as leverage? Casper is only nine years old."

The shift in my scent from fear to anger only made his lips curl into a vicious smirk. "You're worried about HIM? You should be worried about yourself." He tightened his grip, pulling me closer. "You're mine. And if I have to remind you of that every day, then so be it."

My eyes narrowed, my voice shaking with a volatile mix of fury and desperation. "You can do whatever you want to me. But if you touch him... I swear, I'll find a way to make you regret it."

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You think you can threaten ME?" With a sudden shove, he pinned me against the wall, his body completely trapping mine. "You're nothing but a weak, pathetic omega. And I'll do whatever I want." His hand moved to my throat—not choking, but holding me firmly in place.

My hands flew up to grip his wrist, my nails digging into his skin, but I was too weak to make him budge. I glared up at him, my eyes swimming with desperate fury. "You'll have to kill me first."

"I'd like to see you try," he whispered dangerously, his eyes flashing with a vicious hunger.

I flinched hard against the wall. "Let GO!" I hissed, my voice cracking with terror and spite. "You’re the CEO of Volkov Heights... think how it looks, hooking up with a student in a filthy bathroom. If someone walks in, it won't just break me—it'll shatter that perfect image you worship." I let out a jagged, breathless laugh, my chest heaving. "You already got what you wanted, Sir... or are you really so desperate for a 'weak' Omega that you're back for round two?"

The mention of Volkov Heights made his grip falter for a split second. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes before they hardened back into stone. "You think you can use Volkov Heights against me?" His hand slid from my throat to my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You forget who you're dealing with." He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. "But you're right about one thing. I did get what I wanted. And I'll take it again, whenever I please."

Suddenly, the heavy oak door rattled violently. Outside, the rhythmic thud of loafers and the high-pitched chatter of the elite scholarship committee students echoed closer.

"Ruslan? You in here? The Dean is asking for the final library inventory!"

Jaxen’s eyes flashed gold. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed me harder against the wall, his large hand clamping firmly over my mouth. “Not. A. Sound,” he ordered in a deadly whisper, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

My eyes widened in pure terror. But the real horror struck a second later—as the handle jiggled, the door slowly began to click open.

The click of the door mechanism echoed like a gunshot in the cramped, suffocating space. Terrified, my eyes locked onto the widening crack of the heavy oak door. Jaxen didn't flinch. His large palm remained clamped over my mouth, anchoring me against the cold tile wall while his golden eyes burned down into mine with lethal, absolute authority.

"Answer them," he commanded, his voice a razor-thin whisper against my ear. "And if you say one wrong word..." He didn’t need to finish the threat. The brutal squeeze of his fingers against my jaw spoke volumes.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. St. Jude’s International Academy didn't just expel students for "indecency"—they blackballed defects. For a scholarship student like me, a single scandal meant a complete death sentence for my future, and worse, it meant losing the financial security keeping my nine-year-old brother, Casper, safe.

"O—one second," I forced my lips to move against his heavy palm, my voice coming out muffled, shaky, and thick with panic. "I—I'm just freshening up."

The footsteps outside paused. A tense, agonizing beat passed before a frustrated sigh drifted through the wood. "Hurry up, Petrov. The clock is ticking."

Slowly, deliberately, Jaxen’s hand dropped from my face. He stepped back, adjusting the cuffs of his pristine shirt with practiced, terrifying ease, as if he hadn't just shattered my dignity. "Good boy," he murmured, the praise dripping with dark mockery. He leaned in one last time, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "We'll continue this later."

My face flushed a deep, mortifying red. I pressed my lips into a thin line, glaring up at him through my blonde hair with pure, simmering hatred.

"That hatred suits you," Jaxen remarked cruelly, reaching out to grip my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. "Hate me all you want, omega. You'll still beg for me later."

When he released me, my knees buckled. My legs shook so violently from the crushing weight of his dominant Alpha aura that I was forced down against the cold tile floor just to stay upright. My uniform was a complete wreck—the shirt wrinkled, my tie kicked carelessly into a dark corner.

Jaxen’s eyes tracked my pathetic struggle, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Can't even dress yourself? Pathetic." He stepped closer, looming over my crumpled form like a predator inspecting wounded prey. "You look exactly like what you are—a weak omega who can't handle his alpha. Maybe I should leave you like this. Let your precious committee see what happens when you cross me."

Shame burned hotter than physical pain. I reached for the discarded silk tie, my fingers fumbling blindly. I couldn't bear to meet his eyes. "Then what are you waiting for? Go on. Leave."

He snorted derisively, picking up the tie and tossing it straight at me. It hit my cheek with a soft, humiliating smack before falling into my lap. "Clean yourself up, omega. You disgust me."

A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with quiet, suppressed tears. He hadn't even been supposed to be in this wing of the academy today. He was here as the CEO of Volkov Heights, attending the Excellence Endowment meeting—the very funding that kept my brother and me afloat. But the moment he had caught the scent of my distress in the hallway, his primal biology had snapped, dragging me into this nightmare.

"Stop sniveling," Jaxen’s voice rasped, his jaw tightening as the scent of my tears filled the room. "Your tears smell sickeningly sweet. You wanted this bond, remember?"

I forced myself to lower my hands, staring up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. "You're the one who did this to me. You're a monster."

"Monster?" His eyes flashed a dangerous gold as he yanked me up by my wrist. "You think you can blame me for your weakness? Your pathetic omega nature is what got you here. Not me."

I gritted my teeth, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "You came here to sign the papers for the endowment."

Jaxen pinned me with a calculating stare, a dark, amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Smart omega. Trying to use Volkov Heights against me twice in one day?"

"You want to talk about the price?" I hissed, my voice thin but sharp as steel. "My silence for your money. Try to ruin me, and I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what Volkov Heights' golden boy does behind closed doors."

Jaxen’s grip instantly shifted to my throat, holding me firmly against the tile. "Go ahead. Test your luck, omega. See how quickly that little brother of yours becomes an orphan."

The fury in my eyes instantly shattered into raw, naked terror. Before I could beg, the bathroom door handle rattled violently again.

"Ruslan!" the committee member shouted, banging on the wood. "The Dean's assistant is coming down the hall. If those inventory files aren't on her desk in two minutes, she’s giving the scholarship extension to someone else!"

Jaxen released my throat, a look of dark satisfaction settling over his features. "Better run, omega. Your precious scholarship is slipping away."

I didn't waste another second. Grabbing my scattered files, I threw open the door and fled down the hallway, my feet pounding against the polished marble. I burst into the committee room breathless, my uniform disheveled, desperately handing over the documents. "I'm so sorry I'm late," I gasped.

But before the stern-faced Alpha heading the committee could even respond, the heavy doors slid open again. Jaxen walked in, immaculate, his voice smooth as silk. "Sorry for the interruption, gentlemen. Had to deal with a... maintenance issue."

The head of the committee nodded gravely, then slid a glossy piece of paper across the mahogany table. "We were just reviewing the security footage from the east wing, Mr. Volkov. It seems someone captured this just ten minutes ago."

My blood turned to pure ice. I looked down. It was a crystal-clear photograph of Jaxen dragging me into the bathroom, his hand locked brutally around my throat.

The silence in the committee room became absolute, a suffocating vacuum where my heartbeat sounded like thunder. The photo sat on the polished mahogany table like a live explosive.

Jaxen didn't even blink. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he merely leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his long fingers. "That's an... interesting photo. Someone clearly has it out for Volkov Heights. I'd be happy to have my legal team look into whoever's trying to blackmail us."

Then, his golden eyes slowly drifted across the table, pinning me to my seat. His voice was dangerously smooth. "Omega, care to explain why you were alone with me in an empty wing?"

The subtle, predatory curve of his lips told me exactly what he wanted. If I told the truth, the endowment vanished, Casper lost his school funding, and I would be ruined. My mind went completely blank under the weight of the committee's stares.

"He... he was lost," I stammered, my voice barely audible as my knuckles turned white against my pen. "I was... showing him where the restrooms were."

"Lost?" Jaxen’s lips curved into a predatory, mocking smile. "Right."

The committee head cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses with a sharp, skeptical look. "Showing him where the restrooms are? Mr. Volkov, as the CEO of Volkov Heights, you surely know the layout of this academy."

"Of course I knew where the restrooms were," Jaxen replied smoothly, his gaze sweeping over the faculty before landing back on me with utter condescension. "But when an omega offers to... guide you, well. Sometimes it's easier to indulge them than listen to their incessant buzzing. As if a defect's opinion matters."

Humiliation burned through my veins, hot and bitter. I stared at my hands in my lap, whispering, "I didn't want to seem... unwelcoming."

"Next question," Jaxen dismissed casually, thoroughly enjoying my public degradation.

The committee head let out a weary sigh, pushing the scandalous photograph aside. "Very well. Let's move on to the proposed allocation. Mr. Volkov, your endowment specifies half the funds go to 'disciplinary cases.' Given recent events... are you sure you want that condition?"

"Especially given recent events," Jaxen emphasized, his voice dripping with dark meaning. "Some omegas need... extra supervision."

My throat tightened. A chill ran down my spine as the trap snapped shut around me. "Extra supervision," I echoed, my voice hollow. "How... generous."

"Generous? No," Jaxen’s glinting eyes locked onto mine. "Just practical."

"The other half of the endowment," the committee head continued, unfazed by the toxic tension vibrating between us, "is earmarked for 'facility upgrades.' Any specifics, Mr. Volkov?"

"Security cameras. Everywhere," Jaxen demanded coldly.

The committee head raised an eyebrow. "Security cameras? In a school known for its privacy?"

"Privacy is for those who deserve it," Jaxen said, his eyes drilling into me. "Some students need... constant monitoring. Wait until you see the system I've designed."

I forced my expression into a mask of cold neutrality, refusing to let him see me break again. "Mr. Volkov's concern for student welfare is... touching. Shall we table this discussion until we've reviewed the full proposal?"

"Mr. Petrov has a point," the committee head agreed, glancing at the clock. "Gentlemen, let's adjourn for lunch. We can reconvene this afternoon."

The moment the meeting was dismissed, I scrambled to my feet, desperate to escape the suffocating room. But before I could take a step, Jaxen's hand shot out, clamping possessively around my wrist.

"Not so fast, omega," he hissed.

"Let go," I whispered furiously, glancing nervously at the lingering faculty members. "People are watching."

"Good. Let them watch," he growled, pulling me a fraction closer. "You think a room full of alphas is going to save you from me?"

A sudden spark of cornered, desperate fury flared inside me. I leaned in, my voice a venomous whisper. "Then do it. Make a scene. Right here, in front of everyone. I dare you."

His eyes flashed with dark amusement, his grip loosening just enough for me to snatch my hand back. "Brave omega. For now. Don't forget our appointment later."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Volkov, but I don't believe we have an appointment," I raised my voice slightly, forcing a polite, confused laugh for the sake of the nearby teachers. "Perhaps you're confusing me with someone else?"

"Oh, we have an appointment," he said, his voice dropping to a lethal, smooth register. "You'll remember... when you smell roses and vanilla later. Run along, omega."

My blood ran cold. I turned on my heel and practically fled the room, my legs feeling like lead as I navigated the hallways to my next class.

I collapsed into my seat in Room 304, staring blankly at my biology textbook. But the nightmare wasn't over. As the bell rang, my phone vibrated violently in my pocket. I pulled it out under the desk, my eyes widening in horror.

It was a text from an unknown number: Look out the window, Ruslan.