Pine needles crunched under his boots as Bastion wound his way through the trees. The cool evening breeze ruffled his hair like a teasing lover. There were so few trees around here, even this sad excuse for a forest at the edge of the snooty Omega school was a comfort. One day Bastion would move to a place where trees outnumbered people, build himself a log cabin, and grow a hilariously huge mountain man beard. Maybe teenagers would make a local legend out of him: “The Scary Old Dude In The Woods.” Oh yeah, that was going to be badass. But he had a long way to go.
Bastion sighed, kicking a pine cone out of his way as he continued toward home. He had to get some sleep. It would be an early start tomorrow, a gig unloading some trucks at a warehouse for a few dollars under the table. Not enough, but it all added up.
The Alpha closed his eyes, letting the wind caress his face. A scent on the breeze made him stop in his tracks: Omega.
That in and of itself was not unusual, seeing as there were swarms of them at that fancy school, but this was different. He inhaled deeply, but his sensitive nose was correct. This Omega was in heat. And close by.
Bastion knew he had to get home, but his biological drive won out, and he decided to check it out. He’d heard stories about those Omega students, how they took classes on how to be freaks in the sack. Maybe one had gone rogue and was looking for a quick lay. Smirking to himself, Bastion moved closer. The lights from the school shone through the trees, casting eerie shadows.
“Someone... help!” The cry shattered the stillness, and Bastion froze.
Shit. He didn’t want to get involved. He couldn’t afford to. They had security at that school, didn’t they? Someone else would handle it.
A pitiful yelp tore through the air, the unmistakable sound of someone in pain.
Fuck.
Instinctively, Bastion broke into a run.
***
The scent of Omega in heat grew stronger, distracting. As he burst out of the trees, Alpha saw two figures under a streetlight, almost like two actors in a spotlight. All his mind had time to register was the bigger one holding a gleaming something to the smaller one’s throat: a knife. Fuck.
With a snarl, Bastion launched himself at the bigger figure, landing a practiced kick at his unprotected knee. The big man dropped like a sack of potatoes. The smaller figure squirmed away and was off running across the lawn, deer-swift. Bastion ignored it, his eyes fixed on his adversary.
“You son of a bitch, that was my Omega,” hissed the man, shoving himself to his feet. He was wearing some kind of uniform, but not a cop.
“Didn’t look like yours,” countered Bastion, sizing the guy up. The other man was bigger but older, slower. “A real man doesn’t need to get Omegas with a knife, asshole.”
The bigger man spat. “What the fuck would you know about men, pussy boy? I’ll teach you to fuck with me.”
Lightning quick, faster than Bastion had expected, the knife flashed out. He felt a searing line of fire race along his chest.
Enraged, Bastion launched himself at the man, grabbing the guy’s wrist, raining punches with his free hand wherever he could reach. The bigger man roared like an enraged bull, but Bastion managed to keep his grip. He twisted, and the knife clattered to the pavement.
The man lunged forward, and his forehead smashed into Bastion’s temple. Stars exploded in his vision. He lost his grip, dazed, but instinctively flung his arms up to protect his face. He felt the man’s arms closing around his middle, knocking him off balance. He crashed to the pavement, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
Bastion flailed out blindly, acting on pure instinct. A punch landed on his cheekbone with a sickening crunch, stunning him. He couldn’t seem to stop it. Fuck.
Suddenly, the man sagged against him and lay unmoving. Bastion shoved him off, scrambling backward on hands and feet like a deranged crab.
The guy was out cold.
He glanced up. The small figure had returned; the Omega, his nose told him instantly. It was a male, but he was short as a girl; the guy couldn’t be more than five feet tall. He was holding a small silver tube in one hand. “We need to go, now,” he urged, in a soft voice. “The tranquilizer won’t last long, and I called security, but trust me, you don’t want to be here when they show up. And you’re bleeding.”
Bastion glanced down. His t-shirt was gaping open, a red slash of crimson gleamed luridly through the gap. “Fuck.”
“Come on,” urged the Omega.
Still feeling dazed, he pushed himself to his feet. “You go here?”
“Yes, but let’s go.” The Omega glanced over his shoulder, then up at Bastion. The guy came up to his shoulder. “We can’t go to the infirmary. That was a school security guard. They’ll arrest you for sure.”
That was the last thing Bastion wanted to hear. “I’m out, then,” he said. But when he took a step, the world swam in front of him.
“You’re losing blood. Here, put your hand over it and press down, like this,” the Omega said. Bastion hissed as the pressure sent a slash of pain across his chest. The shorter man slipped an arm around Bastion’s waist, pulling his arm over his slender shoulders. Although small, the guy was surprisingly strong. “Lean on me, we’ll go to my room. I have a first aid kit.”
Bastion was too dizzy to argue. Leaning on the Omega, he limped across the dark campus.
***
Bastion had always pictured Omegas having Pinterest-perfect rooms crammed with cutesy knick-knacks and throw pillows, but the door opened into a space that was surprisingly sparse. A low queen bed with a sky-blue cover dominated the space. A light wood desk was in one corner, with a matching bedside table holding a lamp and a vase of red roses. Framed pictures of famous sites hung on the wall: a temple adorned with carved dragons, pyramids rising out of the dunes, a white sand beach with vivid turquoise water. These rich kids sure had fancy field trips.
“Here, sit down,” the Omega instructed, leading Bastion over to the bed. “Keep pressure on the cut, and put your head between your legs if you get dizzy.” He opened a closet door and produced a small red box. The way he moved reminded Bastion of a ballet dancer, each gesture deliberate and graceful. He had that look, too: delicate, but obviously strong.
Bastion sank down onto the soft mattress. “You training to be a nurse or something?”
“We all get basic medical training at the Academy.”
“In case somebody keels over during sex?”
The Omega’s calm expression didn’t change, but his eyebrows raised slightly. “Because it’s a useful life skill to have. After all, you never know when a stranger is going to come charging out of the woods and get into a knife fight on your behalf.”
Bastion chuckled, surprised. Omegas had a sense of humor? “Well, I couldn’t just leave you in the arms of that creep. What was his deal?”
“I don’t know. He’s one of the school security guards. I thought he was just going to take me back to my room and give me a write-up, but he just... grabbed me. Thank you, for helping me, Mister...” The Omega trailed off, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t get your name.”
The Alpha bit back a laugh. Was the guy apologizing for not making proper introductions after they’d just escaped a knife wielding psycho? These Academy kids were insane. “Bastion. Just Bastion is fine. I’m not a Mister, trust me.”
“I’m Harley,” the Omega offered. “Harley Day.”
Bastion arched an eyebrow. “Day... as in, Day Pharmaceuticals?” It was one of the biggest drug companies in the states. He’d seen commercials for their products ever since he was a kid.
Harley’s smile vanished. “Yes,” he said quietly, dropping his gaze to the first-aid kit on his lap. He popped it open and began removing bandages and cotton gauze.
Bastion was surprised at the pang of guilt he felt, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. Who ever heard of a rich kid being embarrassed to be rich? “Not like it matters,” he said gruffly. “Anyway, what do I need to do about this?” He pointed at his chest with his free hand.
The Omega looked up, all business again. “I’ll need to clean it so you don’t get an infection, and then I’ll bandage it up. Could you take your shirt off, please?”
Bastion nodded. He carefully wiggled out of his jacket, sucking in his breath sharply as the motion made his chest sting. Harley didn’t offer to help; he was busily setting bandages and bottles on the nightstand. The Alpha bit down hard on his lip to stifle a groan as he peeled his shirt up, trying not to get blood on the Omega’s fancy bedspread. Bastion balled up his ruined tee and wiped his crimson-stained fingers on the clean part. “So how bad is it, doc?”
Harley glanced over, and his cheeks reddened. He switched on the lamp on his bedside table and leaned forward, his dark green eyes darting over the wound. “You’re in luck, it looks like a shallow cut,” he murmured. “If you take care of it and keep it clean, it should heal in a few weeks. You might have a scar, it’s hard to say.”
Bastion shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Can you fix me up enough to get home?” He had a veterinarian buddy who was good at this sort of thing, he’d call him tomorrow for a second opinion and maybe some stitches.
“Yes, I think I can do that. Hold still.” Harley poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad and brushed it across Bastion’s cut.
The Alpha hissed in surprise. “Sonofabitch, that stings!”
“Sorry,” the Omega murmured, but Bastion could see him suppressing a smile.
“Oh, you think this is funny?”
Harley grinned as he dabbed at the wound. “I thought Alphas were strong stoic types.”
“And I thought Omegas were supposed to be kind and sweet. That fucking hurts!”
“It will hurt a lot more if you get an infection. I’m almost done,” Harley said. When the wound was cleaned, he pressed a gauze square to Bastion’s chest and secured it in place with white medical tape. “There.”
Bastion craned his neck to look down. It was pretty impressive job, actually. He smiled at Harley. “Thanks, man. I owe you -“
His words of gratitude were abruptly cut off when the Omega leaned forward and kissed him.
***
Bastion never really thought of himself as gay, but damn if his cock didn’t spring into action the second Harley’s soft lips brushed his. Instinctively, he grabbed the Omega by the shoulders, pulling him back. “What the hell are you doing?”
The Alpha was startled to see Harley’s eyes: half-lidded with lust, and the pupils were dilated wide. “I want you, Bastion. Please.”
The sweet scent of Harley flooded over him, the unmistakable pheromones of an Omega in heat. Bastion’s inner beast snarled with desire, but his confused brain held on stubbornly. If Harley was in heat, why the hell hadn’t it affected them until now?
The fear. That was it. Harley had been freaked out, which could suppress an Omega’s breeding instinct temporarily. It was a survival mechanism from ancient times. But now for some reason he wasn’t scared anymore, and so his Omega hormones were giving him the full-speed-ahead to mate. Bastion stiffened as Harley’s slim arms wrapped around his shoulders. The Omega seemed to flow into his lap, his pert ass pressing tantalizingly against Bastion’s cock, his soft lips nuzzling against Bastion’s neck.
Fuck it. Bastion reached up, tangling his fingers in Harley’s hair. He pulled the Omega to him, capturing his lips in a harsh kiss. It was a strange thing, kissing another man, but the Omega’s mouth was sweeter and softer than any woman Bastion had been with. He loved the feel of Harley’s petite body in his arms. There was something fragile about him, vulnerable. It was incredibly enticing. Bastion ran his tongue along Harley’s bottom lip, and the Omega obediently opened his mouth. Bastion slipped his tongue inside, teasing Harley’s with his own, reveling in the moan it drew from the Omega.
The pain from Bastion’s injury had vanished, no doubt eclipsed by the galloping tide of Alpha hormones that Harley had unleashed. He groaned as he felt the Omega’s soft hand slip between his thighs, gliding up and down his shaft through the denim of his jeans. Bastion pushed Harley back onto the bed, ignoring his injury, his every Alpha instinct screaming that this Omega needed to be fucked, taken. Bastion was happy to oblige.
Harley writhed underneath him as Bastion sat up, his hands fumbling at his belt buckle. “Do me, Bastion,” the Omega panted. “I need you inside me so bad.”
“Trust me, you’re going to get as much of me as you can handle,” growled Bastion. His belt popped open with a clink. He yanked the leather strip through the loops, then tossed it on the bedside table.
The vase of red roses he’d noticed earlier caught his eye. Something about them bothered him. “Who are those from?”
“What?” Harley furrowed his brow, his hands reaching up to rub Bastion’s thighs.
The Alpha caught his wrists. “The roses,” he said sharply. “Who are they from?”
Harley was suddenly quiet and still. His cheeks were flushed from his heat, but he turned his head to one side, avoiding Bastion’s gaze.
The Alpha dropped Harley’s wrists and climbed off the bed. “I don’t mess with other people’s mates,” he growled.
“He’s NOT my mate!” The Omega slammed his fist on the bed, startling Bastion.
“Oh, so you do have someone else? And when were you going to tell me this, Harley? After I fucked you?”
Harley looked miserable. “I can explain, Bastion...”
The Alpha waved his hand dismissively. “Save it. Thanks for fixing me up. I’m out.” He grabbed his jacket off the bed and retrieved his belt from the table. These spoiled rich kids, think they can do whatever they want and us common folks are just supposed to go along with it. He felt his lip curl in disgust.
“Bastion, wait!” Harley called.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut and the wild protest of his Alpha instincts, Bastion yanked the door open, leaving his bloody shirt in a heap on the floor and a tearful Harley alone on the bed.