The rain slammed against the windows of the northern wing, each drop hitting like a warning—sharp, relentless, cold.
Inside the Saint Orias Rehabilitation Center, silence ruled. Only the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant echo of medical carts filled the white, sterile halls.Noah Vega moved like a ghost through them. His footsteps were measured, his face expressionless, his presence barely there.
His white uniform hugged his slender frame, spotless and perfectly ironed. The badge on his chest read: Nurse Noah Vega – Level 2 Care.He hated the badge. Not for what it said.But because it was the only label he wore willingly.
"Vega," a sharp voice broke through.The head nurse, Lucia, held out a thick file without looking up. "Room 09. New arrival. Alpha. Careful. He's not... stable."
Noah grabbed the file with one hand and kept walking.
He didn't need to ask who it was.The name on the cover said it all: Alek Drakov.
His mouth tightened slightly. The name had been whispered for days.Famous. Violent. Beautiful. Dangerous.And rich enough to avoid jail time every single time he broke someone's jaw.
Noah hated his type.
Still, he read the file as he walked:
Age: 26
Classification: Alpha – Dominant Type
Previous treatment centers: 4
History of aggression: Multiple incidents
Physical injuries: Old fractures, scar tissue, nerve tension
Psychological note: Unresponsive to cognitive therapy. Possible heat trauma (unconfirmed). Sexual dominance disorder flagged. Handle with care.
Noah scoffed. They all wrote the same notes. "Unstable alpha." "Aggression." "Possible trauma."
Nobody ever just wrote the truth: He's dangerous because no one ever told him "no."
He reached Room 09. The door was closed.The air around it felt... heavier.
He didn't knock. He never knocked.
He opened the door slowly and stepped inside.
The room was dim. Curtains half-drawn. A faint smell of sweat, metal, and blood hung in the air.Alek Drakov sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, breathing heavily, hand wrapped in a crude cloth soaked in red.
He didn't look up.
"Turn that light off," he growled, voice rough, hoarse.
Noah turned it on instead. The fluorescent light stung.
Alek flinched but didn't move. "I said—"
"I heard you," Noah cut in coldly. "And I ignored you. If your hand's broken, I need to see it before it turns septic."
He moved with a calm grace, rolling in a tray and snapping on his gloves.Alek's eyes finally lifted.
Gray. Like ash. Like storms.
He didn't blink. He didn't smile.He just watched.
"You've got guts," he said, voice low.
"I've got training," Noah replied. "Give me your hand."
Alek didn't move.Noah didn't ask again.
He stepped forward, took Alek's arm carefully but firmly, and began unwrapping the cloth. The bleeding had slowed, but the knuckles were split. Deep. Bone might be cracked.The skin around them was bruised. Fists against a wall, most likely.
"Your name is Alek Drakov," Noah said while cleaning the wound. "You were admitted yesterday under court recommendation. Four failed rehab attempts. One arrest for assault. One for possession."
"No conviction," Alek said casually.
"Just money."
Alek smirked faintly. "You read my file?"
"I don't like surprises."
"That's ironic," Alek muttered. "You look like a walking mystery."
Noah didn't respond. His focus stayed on the hand, applying antiseptic, checking for swelling, gauging reflexes.But he felt Alek's gaze like fire on his skin.
"You're a beta?" Alek asked suddenly.
Noah didn't react.
"Yes."
"No, you're not."
Noah froze for only a heartbeat. "Excuse me?"
"You don't smell like one."
Suppressants. He'd taken them. Double dose this morning.They always worked. They had to.
"You're on meds," Noah said calmly. "Your senses are off."
"No," Alek said, leaning forward. "I've been in heat dens. I know what betas smell like. You're not neutral. You're... muted. Like someone put a blanket over your real scent."
Noah's eyes flickered.
"Do you always sniff your nurses?"
Alek tilted his head, as if analyzing him. "Only the ones who lie to my face."
Noah wrapped the hand tighter than necessary.
"Don't mistake curiosity for privilege," he said. "You're here to recover. Not to interrogate me."
Alek leaned in slightly. Too close. His voice dropped.
"Tell me something, Nurse Vega. Are you hiding what I think you are... or what you used to be?"
Noah didn't flinch. Didn't move.
But his heart skipped—once. Then again.
He snapped off the gloves, walked to the door, and turned the handle.
"Don't get close to me, Drakov," he said without looking back. "I'm not someone you can mark."
And he walked out.
That night, the storm didn't stop.It grew louder. Angrier.
Alek didn't sleep.
He lay on the bed, shirt discarded, hand aching, but eyes wide open.He couldn't stop thinking about him.
The scent. The cold voice. The fire under the ice.
He'd seen hundreds of nurses—young, old, submissive, indifferent.But this one?
This one had secrets stitched into his skin.This one made his instincts crawl under his bones.
He rolled onto his side, closing his eyes briefly.
He could still smell him. Faint, clean. But beneath that—something soft.Something rare.
Something forbidden.
His lips curled.
He's an omega.And he doesn't want anyone to know.
Noah sat on the floor of the staff dorm shower, head against the wall, steam rising around him.
The pill bottle sat next to him. He'd taken three already.Not enough.
Suppressants weren't working. Not when Alek looked at him like that.
He hated how his body responded. Hated the pull in his gut. The flush of warmth behind his ears.He wasn't supposed to feel anything. He wasn't supposed to be anything.
He'd killed that part of himself years ago.
Alek Drakov wasn't just dangerous—He was temptation wrapped in muscle and power and rage.
And Noah wasn't ready.
Not again.
He took a fourth pill. Dry. Bitter.Then he got up.
The next morning, Room 09's monitor showed irregular vitals. Heart rate spikes. Movement at 3 a.m. No sleep.
Noah checked the logs and said nothing.
He requested assignment back to the same patient.
The head nurse raised an eyebrow. "Sure you want him again?"
"Yes," Noah said coldly.
"Thought you hated alphas."
"I do."
But he couldn't stop himself.
And neither could Alek.