The day ambled on, a slow, almost agonizing progression of classes and cautious hallway navigation. Despite the mundane rhythm, a cold knot of fear remained lodged in my stomach, a persistent reminder of what had happened that morning. Maximus's usual bullying was a predictable agony—cutting words, a shove, sometimes a trip. But today had been different. There was a raw, aggressive edge to his torment, a venom I hadn't seen before. The thought that it could escalate, that his cruelty could somehow deepen, left me terrified. What if our paths crossed again? What new hell would he unleash? I shuddered, trying to banish the thought, focusing instead on the professor's droning lecture on ancient civilizations.
My history class finally ended, bringing a small, much-needed reprieve. My presentation project, the one about the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, had been praised by Professor Davison. She'd even called it "exceptionally insightful" and given me a high score. A tiny spark of pride ignited within me, a fragile warmth. For a few blissful moments, the praise pushed away the lingering terror of Maximus. It felt good to be seen for something positive, something I'd poured my quiet efforts into.
With a lighter step, I gathered my books and headed for the school cafeteria. It was always a chaotic scene of scents and sounds, but it held the promise of Hailey, and that made it bearable. As usual, I spotted her at our table by the windows, her head bent over her phone, absorbed in something on the screen.
"Hailey!" I called out, my voice a little louder than usual to cut through the din.
Her head snapped up instantly, her eyes widening in recognition. A bright smile spread across her face as she quickly closed her phone and tucked it into her pocket, giving me her full attention. "Jules! Hey! You made it! How was history? Did Professor Davison give you your score?"
I slid into the seat opposite her, already feeling a little lighter. "Yeah, she did. Got an A. She even said it was 'exceptionally insightful'," I confessed, a small, proud smile touching my lips.
"No way! Jules, that's amazing! I told you, you're brilliant! See, I knew it! You put so much work into that!" Hailey practically bounced in her seat, her enthusiasm infectious. "Seriously, I told Sarah this morning, your brain is like, a superpower. How do you remember all that ancient stuff? I swear, half the time Professor Davison sounds like she's speaking in hieroglyphs."
She instantly returned to being her usual blabbermouth self, a whirlwind of stories and observations from her morning. She recounted a hilarious incident in her drama class, where Leo, the Alpha lead, had accidentally knocked over a prop sword and almost tripped the Beta stage manager. "You should have seen it, Jules! It was like a slow-motion disaster, but Leo being Leo, he just recovered with this dramatic flourish and made it part of the scene! Everyone cracked up, even Mr. Finch, who never smiles!" She complained good-naturedly about a pop quiz in math, grumbling, "Professor Adler is trying to make us all cry, I swear. Who needs advanced trigonometry on a Tuesday morning? But hey, at least I tried, right?" And then she gushed about a new indie band and a song she'd discovered, pulling out her phone to show me a snippet of the music video, her eyes wide with excitement.
"Their Omega vocalist has the most amazing range, it's just so raw and powerful, you have to listen to them!" I just listened, offering a quiet chuckle here and there, content to let her vibrant energy wash over me. It was a welcome distraction, drifting my thoughts away from the cold fear that had plagued me earlier and making me smile genuinely.
I always tried to hide what was happening to me. I never told Hailey about the bullying, especially the times it happened when she wasn't around. I couldn't bear to see the worry in her eyes, to burden her with my fear, or to make her feel helpless. She tried so hard to protect me already; I didn't want to add to her load. I just wanted to keep her happy, to keep our corner of the world bright and untouched by the ugliness that defined so much of my day.
We had a fun and comfortable conversation throughout lunch. Hailey, ever the talker, did most of the sharing, her words a constant, soothing hum. And I found myself feeling a familiar pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Hailey. I feel like I'm not talking much today. You're doing all the sharing," I said, a little ashamed, picking at a loose thread on my jeans.
She waved a dismissive hand, her smile unwavering. "Nonsense, Jules! It's fine! Seriously, you listening is enough for me. You're a great listener, you know that? Plus, you have that whole quiet, mysterious thing going on. It's charming!" She winked, and I felt a blush creep up my neck. "Besides," she continued, "you have a lot on your plate. I know you've been working on those extra credit assignments for some of the other kids. You're always helping people out, even when they don't deserve it. You're too good sometimes, you know that?"
Her understanding made my heart swell with gratitude. I smiled at her, a truly thankful smile. "Thanks, Hailey. That means a lot."
Eventually, the lunch period neared its end, and we had to part ways for our afternoon classes. Before she stood up, Hailey leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Hey, meet me at 'The Cafe-Teria' after school, okay? The new cafe, not far from campus? I want to tell you all about my afternoon classes, and we can finally try their caramel macchiato. It smells amazing! And I heard they have those little rainbow sprinkle cookies too!"
"Okay, I'll be there," I agreed instantly. It sounded like a perfect end to a difficult day. "I'll text you when my last class ends."
"Awesome! See you then!" she chirped, giving me a quick, firm hug before grabbing her bag and disappearing into the stream of students, her bright pink hair a beacon in the crowd.
Cautiously, I reverted to my practiced invisibility as I walked towards my next class. The hallways were still somewhat crowded, but the bell for the next period would ring soon, thinning the numbers. I pulled my shoulders forward, my head slightly bowed, trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible. The fear of another encounter with Maximus still gnawed at me, a cold serpent coiled in my gut, but the thought of meeting Hailey at the new cafe managed to drift into my mind, a small, warm current against the tide of dread. I always enjoyed having Hailey around. Her easy laughter and boundless energy were a balm to my anxious soul. We could just sit, talk, and for a few hours, the world outside, with its Alphas and Omegas and unspoken rules, would fade away.
I was so lost in the comforting thought of Hailey and the new cafe, envisioning us sipping sweet drinks and sharing quiet smiles, that I didn't see him. Not until it was too late. My body collided with someone, quite hard, causing me to stumble back a few steps, my backpack shifting precariously. A jolt of panic shot through me, an immediate, visceral fear that only one person could inspire. When I looked up, my eyes instantly locked onto his.
Maximus Zavallier. He was already staring at me, his dark eyes narrowed into furious slits, a vein throbbing faintly in his temple. The air around him seemed to crackle with suppressed rage, his Alpha scent suddenly sharp and acrid, like ozone before a lightning strike. My heart immediately began to pound against my ribs, a frantic drum against the cage of my chest. I felt terrified. My carefully constructed calm shattered into a million pieces.
Before I could even stammer an apology or attempt to sidestep him, Maximus moved. His hand shot out, grabbing a handful of my shirt collar, twisting the fabric tightly until it dug into my throat. With effortless strength, he hauled me up, my feet barely leaving the ground, until my face was inches from his, his breath, hot and angry, fanning my cheeks. His eyes, usually cold and indifferent, burned with a terrifying intensity I hadn't seen before. This wasn't just bullying. This was something darker, something simmering beneath the surface, a barely contained fury.
"What are you looking at, Omega?" His voice was a low growl, barely a whisper, yet it cut through the distant hallway sounds with chilling clarity. "Did you lose your way, little rat? You seem to have a talent for getting in my way. Every single time. Do you enjoy being stepped on, pathetic little thing? Do you like being reminded of how utterly insignificant you are? Is this some kind of sick game for you, trying to see how much attention you can get, even if it's just my disgust?"
He tightened his grip, the fabric digging deeper into my windpipe, making it hard to breathe. I instinctively tried to pull back, but he held me firm, an immovable wall of muscle and rage. My hands instinctively came up, grasping at his wrist, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.
"You really think you belong here, don't you? Walking around like you're actually someone," he spat, his lip curling in disgust. "Newsflash, shrimp. You're nothing. Less than nothing. A piece of dirt that just happens to breathe my air. Your existence is an insult to anyone with actual power, anyone with actual worth. Every time I see your weak, trembling face, it makes me want to vomit. You contaminate the air with your weakness."
His words pierced me, each one a poisoned arrow. They weren't just insults; they were a systemic deconstruction of my very being, designed to strip away any remaining shred of self-worth. They found every insecurity, every fear I harbored, and magnified it a thousand times.
"You're a parasite, sucking off others just to get by," he continued, his voice laced with pure contempt, his gaze raking over my face as if searching for something else to ridicule, something else to break. "I see you, always hiding behind that Beta girlfriend of yours, scurrying around doing everyone else's dirty work. You think no one notices? Everyone knows you're just a convenience, a tool. You have no purpose of your own. No talent. No drive. Just a hollow shell, waiting for someone to fill it, only no one ever will because you're empty. You're a leech on society, clinging to the edges, hoping no one pushes you off."
My eyes stung, and a tremor ran through my body. He was right. About everything. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, each beat a painful throb. The shame was suffocating.
"And that pathetic, sickly pallor you always have," he snarled, leaning even closer, his nose flaring as if catching a whiff of something truly repulsive. "It makes me want to crush you just to get rid of the sight. You're a constant reminder of everything weak and fragile. You're meant to be pushed around, to serve, to be controlled. And you can't even accept that, can you? You just resist, pathetically, making yourself even more unappealing. You're a stain, Jules. A stain on this academy, a stain on your supposed gender, a stain on society. You make me sick just looking at you. You're a fundamentally broken thing."
The humiliation was a burning fire spreading through every nerve ending, every cell of my body. He knew. He knew my secret. Or at least, he suspected it with chilling accuracy. The mere possibility was a fresh wave of terror, far worse than any physical pain. I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight, the fabric of my collar still cutting off my breath. My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill, blurring Maximus's enraged face into an indistinguishable smear.
"So remember this, shrimp," he finished, his voice dropping back to that dangerous, chilling whisper, his eyes boring into mine, promising further agony. "Stay out of my sight. Stay out of my way. And for God's sake, stop existing so loudly. Because the next time, I won't be so gentle. The next time, you'll regret ever crossing my path."
With a last warning, a final, brutal flourish of his cruelty, he shoved me. Hard. My back slammed into the cold, unforgiving lockers with a sickening thud, the impact jarring every bone in my body. A gasp was ripped from my lungs as I crumpled, my legs giving out, hitting the floor in a heap. God, that hurt. A sharp, searing pain shot up my spine, blooming into a dull ache across my shoulders, making my head swim.
I lay there, curled on the ground, my head spinning, my vision dotted with black spots. I had to fight, but I didn't know how. My mind was a blank canvas of pain and despair. I felt useless. So small. So utterly little. The crushing weight of my Omega nature, of my perceived weakness, settled over me like a suffocating blanket, pressing the air from my lungs. I resented being a weak Omega. I hated it. I wished, with every fiber of my being, that I could somehow, somehow at least protect myself, just once. I yearned for strength, for power, for anything that would let me stand up against this constant onslaught.
The bell for the next period rang, its shrill sound echoing in the sudden, cavernous silence. Students who had been glued to the spectacle, a silent, unmoving audience, immediately scattered around, their hurried footsteps fading away. Not even one of them tried to help me. They just left, melting into the shadows, leaving me bruised, broken, and alone on the cold floor.
I gasped, pushing myself up onto trembling hands and knees, my body screaming in protest. The world tilted. Just as I helplessly tried to stand, a shadow fell over me, not a menacing one, but a gentle, grounding presence. A hand, large and warm, extended towards me. I looked up, my blurry vision clearing just enough to see an Alpha I had never met before, his face etched with concern, not contempt. He offered me a silent, steady hand.