The night of the Moon Festival at St. Greystorm Academy was alive with lights, music, and laughter. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting warm glows across the courtyard. Students moved in swirling colors of gowns and suits, their excitement contagious.
Lawrence tried to enjoy it, to blend into the crowd, to be… normal. But no matter how many smiling faces passed by, he felt the weight of George's gaze pressing on him.
He knew George was near. He could feel it, like a subtle vibration in the air, low and constant.
Lawrence tried to stay away from the center of the crowd, walking along the quieter edges. He barely noticed the group of alpha boys watching him, their eyes sharp, their grins predatory.
"Look who it is," one hissed. "The new omega. Pretty little thing. Not so invisible anymore."
Lawrence froze. He hadn't even seen them approach.
Before he could back away, one of the alphas stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Care to dance with us?" the alpha mocked, voice low and dangerous.
Lawrence's heart raced. He tried to step back, but the circle closed in. Panic flared in his chest.
And then—
A shadow moved faster than anyone could react. George Mathews.
He stepped between Lawrence and the alphas, his presence immediate, overwhelming. The smaller boys froze under the weight of his gaze. George's dark eyes were dangerous, sharp, full of warning and fire.
"Step away," George said, his voice low and lethal.
The alphas laughed, but the laughter died quickly when George's hand lifted slightly—not threatening yet, but every ounce of his alpha energy radiated dominance.
"I said. Step. Away."
Lawrence felt a strange warmth of safety wash over him as George moved to stand closer, subtly shielding him. He had never felt protected like this—and never by someone so terrifying.
The alpha boys hesitated, then backed away, sensing instinctively that George's patience had run thin.
Once the crowd cleared, Lawrence's knees felt weak. "Th-thank you," he whispered, voice trembling.
George didn't answer immediately. He simply watched him, the faintest crease in his brow softening slightly, as if he didn't fully understand the pull he felt toward the omega.
"You should be more careful," George muttered, brushing past him slightly. The proximity made Lawrence's heart hammer painfully in his chest.
"I—I am," Lawrence stammered. But the words sounded hollow even to his own ears.
George's gaze lingered, almost contemplative, and then he turned, moving back into the crowd. Lawrence's stomach twisted. He had just been saved by the top alpha of the school, and he didn't even know how to process it.
The festival went on around him, but Lawrence no longer heard the music or laughter. All he could feel was the memory of George's presence, the weight of his protection, and the subtle, undeniable pull between them.
Something had changed.
George Mathews was no longer just a top alpha.
He was dangerously, impossibly close.
And Lawrence knew ,though he tried not to—that nothing would ever be simple again.