The Sovereigns' Omega

Chapter 8

Mariah

"I know the midterm showcase is still six weeks away, but I'm nervous as f**k about it," Jessica says, crunching down on a cucumber slice like it personally insulted her.

I'm not even sure how I ended up here—sitting in the courtyard with Sky and her friends.

Maybe because she's asked every damn day since the mixer.

Maybe because, on the days Jacek and I don't share classes, the silence in the dorm feels too heavy.

Or maybe I just forgot how to be alone without it swallowing me whole.

Jessica's voice fades into the noise around us—laughter, the scrape of chair legs on concrete, the steady bass leaking from someone's earbuds. The air hums with pheromones and sunlight, too bright to feel safe in.

Across the courtyard, a group of alphas lean back in their chairs, talking low and lazy. Their presence thickens the air until it feels like trying to breathe through syrup.

"You'll be fine, Jess," Sky assures her, stabbing a fork into her cobb salad with the same determination she uses on everything. "You literally practice every day. By the time the showcase hits, it'll be in your DNA."

Then her gaze slides to me. "What about you, Mariah? You excited for the showcase?"

Every head turns my way.

Fuck. My favorite nightmare—attention.

Inside the studio, it means control.

Out here, it feels like exposure.

I shrug, keeping my tone casual. "Excited might be a strong word. But I'm... ready to get it over with, I guess."

Jessica tilts her head like she's dissecting me. "What's your secret? How are you so shy but so confident on stage?"

If only she knew.

It's not confidence. It's survival.

When I dance, everything else shuts off—the noise, the eyes, the memories.

The world blurs until there's only breath and rhythm.

For a few minutes, my body stops choosing between fight or flight.

For a few minutes, I feel free.

Thankfully, no one presses for an answer, and the conversation moves on without me.

Good. I like it better that way.

"You know, we should stop by and watch you guys practice sometime," Ashton says, grinning like he's already picturing it. "Everyone keeps saying the dance program is brutal. I wanna see what all the hype's about."

"It is brutal," Jessica mutters, rolling her eyes. "Professor Lang doesn't believe in breaks. I swear she's part f*****g cyborg."

She's not wrong.

Part cyborg. Part demon.

Same difference.

Sky laughs so hard she nearly chokes on her salad. "Cyborg or not, she's one of the best dancers in the werewolf world. I heard if you want to go pro, she's the road you take—pain, blisters, and all."

I just nod, chewing slowly while the rest of them keep talking.

Going pro used to sound like the dream.

Now it just sounds like pressure.

I dance to breathe.

That's enough for now.

The courtyard's still crowded when I leave lunch, promising Sky I'll meet up with her for dinner, because, apparently, that's our thing now.

Packs sprawl across the lawn—playing, arguing, or scenting the air like they own it.

I take the main path toward the dorms—then freeze.

Four alphas block the way ahead. Their scents hit like a wall, and I have to hold my breath just to keep from choking. One of them throws an arm around a passing omega, laughing when she flinches. Like her fear is their entertainment.

Nope. Not today.

I veer off toward the side path behind the dance building. It's quieter here. Shaded. The pavement cracked and uneven underfoot. The air smells faintly of rain and chalk drifting out from the studio vents.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Jacek.

Good luck with Conditioning today.

I still can't believe I asked for his number yesterday. I half-expected him to ignore me—or say no. But he just handed it over like it was nothing, and I gave him mine in return.

All week, our walks back to the dorm have been quiet. Comfortable. The kind of silence that doesn't demand to be filled.

I'm definitely not complaining. But part of me wants more.

What was his childhood like?

What does he do when he's not playing piano?

And how the hell did he end up as Cassian Vale's beta?

My phone buzzes again.

Jacek: Don't overwork yourself.

A small smile tugs at my lips, butterflies stirring low in my stomach.

It's ridiculous, really. Three little words, and my body reacts like it's been waiting for them all day.

I start typing a reply—something normal, something that doesn't scream I know we've only known for each other for a week, but I think I might have a tiny crush on you—as I walk.

Then I slam into something solid.

The impact knocks the wind out of me. My phone flies out of my hand, clattering against the pavement as I stumble back a step.

"s**t—sorry," I blurt, catching myself before gravity wins.

A voice answers—low and rough, steady like it's built from gravel and command.

"You good?"

When I look up, my stomach drops straight into my ass.

Everything about him screams alpha.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Tattoos crawling from under his sleeves and a word I can't fully read from here scrawled across his knuckles.

But it's not just the ink that gets me—it's the stillness. The kind of quiet dominance that doesn't need to raise its voice. It just exists.

And then there are his eyes.

Dark gray. Unreadable. Sharp enough to cut through me.

Then when his scent hits—whiskey and ink, threaded with smoke.

Dangerous. Addictive. The kind that slips under your skin before you realize it's too late.

My wolf bristles, but doesn't growl—not like she usually does when alphas crowd my space.

She just... stares.

The alpha's nostrils flare, and his head tilts, slow—like he's studying me, or waiting for something.

Shit. He said something, didn't he?

I just forgot what it was.

He bends down and picks up my phone, the movement smooth and unhurried. When he straightens, he holds it out between two long fingers like he's testing whether I'll take it.

After he's touched it, I really don't even want it back.

But I do it anyway, careful not to brush his skin.

"Thanks," I mutter.

His voice dips low, rough around the edges. "What's your name, little omega?"

None of your f*****g business. That's what I want to say.

But I also want to make it back to my dorm without becoming a headline.

"Uhh... does it matter?" I ask, keeping my voice light. Neutral. Harmless.

He repeats it, slow, like he's rolling the words around his tongue. "Does it matter? Why would knowing your name not matter to me?"

My throat tightens.

"It's Mariah," I say before I can stop myself. The name comes out softer than I meant it to.

Cassian's eyes stay locked on mine, steady and cold as stone. He doesn't smile. Doesn't look away. Just watches—like he's trying to commit every breath to memory.

Then he says it. My name.

"Mariah."

It shouldn't sound intimate. It shouldn't do anything to me.

But it does.

My heart skips a beat. My wolf presses forward, caught between curiosity and submission, and I hate that I can't tell which wins.

"Pretty name," he murmurs, though it doesn't sound like a compliment. More like a verdict.

The air shifts—thick, electric. His aura thrums just beneath the surface, restrained but heavy. Coiled like it could destroy everything in reach if he let it.

And that's when it clicks.

There's only one alpha I haven't run into yet.

One who fits every rumor.

"You're Jacek's alpha," I say, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "Cassian Vale."

His mouth curves, slow and knowing. "Yeah."

There's something about the way he says it—calm, almost bored—that makes it worse.

Like he likes that I already know who he is.

"I heard he's been giving you a lot of attention lately," Cassian says, voice smooth, but the question underneath it cuts sharp. "What's in it for you?"

He slowly steps closer, like he has all the time in the damn world. His scent wraps around me—smoke and whiskey curling through every breath until I can't tell where his aura ends and mine begins.

Normally, my wolf would be snapping by now.

Ready to fight. Ready to run.

But she's not.

She's just... alert. Watching.

Like she's waiting for something to happen.

Like she wants something to happen.

It doesn't make any f*****g sense.

"I—what do you mean?"

Cassian tilts his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. "You know what I mean."

No. No, I really don't.

"Jace doesn't take interest in people," he continues. "Especially omegas."

He takes another step forward, the gravel crunching under his boots louder than it should be.

My back almost hits the brick wall behind me before I even realize I've moved.

"I didn't ask him to," I say quickly. "He's just... nice."

Cassian's grin widens, slow and deliberate, the kind that doesn't reach his eyes.

It's nothing like Jacek's.

It's colder. Meaner.

I'm scared shitless. But I don't move.

He already knows I'm afraid. I can see it in the flicker of his gaze, hear it in the shift of his breathing as he catches the tang of fear in my scent.

But I'm not giving him the satisfaction of watching me flinch.

Out of all the alphaholes on this campus, he's the biggest one here—and I'm not giving him ammunition. I know how fast a rumor like that spreads, how quickly fear turns into permission.

And I'll never let that happen to me again.

"Jacek's not nice," Cassian muses. "He doesn't understand empathy. Not like you and I do, at least. That means it's for his own reasons."

My stomach twists. "Reasons like what?"

Cassian's smirk barely moves. "You'll figure that out soon enough."

What the f**k does that even mean?

Before I can ask, he steps back, gaze still locked on mine like he's already said too much—or exactly enough.

Then, just like that, the tension breaks.

Cassian turns away, hands sliding into his pockets as if we didn't just have the most cryptic conversation of my life.

"See you around, Mariah," he says over his shoulder, his voice smooth again, unreadable.

I stay rooted in place, every nerve in my body wired and buzzing, until he disappears around the corner.

Only then do I realize I've been holding my breath.

My knees feel weak. My pulse still hammers in my throat.

What the hell just happened?

I take a few steps back, then another, dragging air into my lungs like I can wash his scent out of them.

But I can't.

Whiskey and smoke cling stubbornly to the back of my throat, heavy and unshakable.

Fuck. Why does a scent like that have to be on someone like him?

I grip my phone tighter, realizing his scent is on it now. On me too—faint, but still there.

Some part of me, the one that should've died a long time ago, wants to lift it to my nose and breathe him in.

I hate that I want to.

I shove the thought away and unlock the screen instead. Then I type out a quick thanks to Jacek—for the message he sent earlier, before I literally ran into his alpha.

My thumb hovers just for a second before I press send.

I know I should probably stay away from him now.

If I'd never sat beside Jacek, none of this would've happened.

I knew who his alpha was, and now Cassian's treating me like a threat.

To what? I have no f*****g idea.

But the way he looked at me—like he already knew something I didn't—

Yeah. I don't trust him. Not one bit.

And I'm not bringing it up to Jacek.

It's not like it's his fault his alpha's a cryptic asshole. Or that I'm starting to think he didn't run into me by accident.

I just hope that was the first and last time I ever end up alone with Cassian Vale.

But something deep in my chest—maybe my wolf, maybe something worse—whispers that it won't be.

That this was only the beginning.

And I better get ready for the bullshit to come.