We were nearly at the dorm when Jacob started gagging.
"Guys, I think I'm gonna throw up—"The words barely left his mouth before he stumbled to the bushes.
He didn't just throw up. He emptied his entire soul.
Ciro was instantly by his side, crouching with a hand on his back.
I rolled my eyes. Still, I stepped in, grabbing Jacob under his arm and hauling him upright. He was heavy—dead weight, barely conscious.
"Thanks," Ciro muttered, not quite looking at me.
I gave a small nod.
By the time we got to their dorm, Jacob had passed out against Ciro's shoulder.
"Help me get him inside," Ciro huffed, fumbling with his keys.
It was late—way past curfew—but no security in sight. We slipped in fast.
We got Jacob to his bed, face-down just in case he threw up again. He started mumbling nonsense into the pillow.
"He'll be fine. Just let him sleep it off," I said, wiping my hands.
Ciro leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes locked on Jacob. His face unreadable, but his posture tense.
"You good?" I asked.
"Yeah."Softer now. The earlier playfulness gone.
And then I noticed it—his scent.
The air was saturated in pheromones—his and Jacob's—but Ciro's rosy vanilla clung heavier. Sweet. Thick. I could taste it. My body tensed.
"You've got something to say," he said suddenly.
"Is there anything to say?"
No answer. Just a gesture to leave.
I walked.
The thirty-minute walk back to my dorm felt longer than usual. My chest stayed tight.
Isabella walked in, rolling her eyes like seeing me was exhausting.
"I'm only supposed to see you once a month to maintain the illusion of a sibling bond."
"Guess I missed you."
She folded her arms. "So what are you here for? Allowance? Or are you still nose blind?"
"I'm not nose blind. It's worse. I want him. I can sense him before I see him."
She laughed—too loud. "So you like him?"
"I highly doubt that. Just because my body reacts doesn't mean it's feelings."
"You're a dominant alpha. Instincts kick in. Don't pretend it's nothing."
"Our compatibility is zero-point-one. This shouldn't be happening."
She gave me a look. "Compatibility isn't instincts. One's attraction of pheromones. The other is how your traits respond—physically, emotionally, subconsciously."
I stayed quiet.
"You're overthinking it. Once the project's done, your feelings will fade. You're just influenced by the environment. That's the point of the project."
"What's wrong with Ciro as an omega? Nice family background. You being petty because you almost drowned but—"
"Okay, stop. And it's not that."
It's just instinct. Nothing more.
I stepped out of the building, my phone ringing.
Ciro was already there when I arrived—standing beside Meeka and some guy I vaguely recognized from the alpha club.
But my eyes stuck on Ciro.
I didn't know he could smile like that. Or blush like that.
My jaw tightened before I even realized it.
Meeka said something, but I wasn't listening.
She followed my gaze and laughed. "They'd look good together, right?"
My skin crawled. "Of course they would."
They wouldn't. He wouldn't.
"That's why I paired them," she said brightly.
Why are we still talking about them?
"What happened to your lips?" she asked.
"I was attacked by a dog last night." Loud enough for Ciro to hear.
Ciro froze. "You sure it wasn't an untamed mule with no class?"
Meeka slid me the next outfit and pointed to the curtain.
I changed, the shirt snug across my shoulders, pants tighter than necessary.
Then I felt it. That stare.
I looked up.
Ciro. Bold. Unbothered.
Not glancing away like others. His gaze stayed, sharp, dissecting me.
"What?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing."
"You've been staring."
"So were you."
A pause. His smirk flickered—missing the usual spark. "You look horrible."
"Still better than that," I nodded toward his mannequin.
His jaw tensed.
The tension between us stretched sharp as wire.
"Do you two forget there are other people here?" Meeka said flatly.
Right—people were watching. None of them smiling.
"Of course not," I muttered.
I looked away first. His scent was stronger now, making my throat tighten.
"Are we done?" I asked Meeka.
"Yeah, just need to take it in at the waist."
I slipped back behind the curtain, exhaling hard.
What the hell was that?
This wasn't feelings. It was instinct. Nothing more.
But no matter how far I walked, his scent always found me.