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Ben is sitting in his professor's office and shifts his weight on the chair. He’s never been summoned after a lecture before. What could it mean?
“Mr Solo, why did you choose this field of study?”
Ben looks up. His leg moves restlessly, a steady rhythm of nerves.
“Because I'm interested?”
“Don't waste my time.” The professor scoffs and throws Ben's paper, covered in Post-it notes and marker ink, onto the desk. “Bio blockers, spagyrics... Start developing ideas that actually matter. Come up with something new, with a purpose and effect. If you don't take this seriously, you won't complete your master's degree or be admitted to a PhD programme at this university.”
As the words linger, Ben’s jaw tightens. His idea is relevant, and it is new. Perhaps it’s too new and too different. No one wants to live with side effects for the rest of their life. Maybe that's why the professor doesn't want to hear; he can't understand. Because it's of no use to him. Damn Beta.
When he leaves the office, he tears up the paper and throws it in the bin without looking at any of the notes. 'No purpose, no effect', that's what the professor said. The fucking Beta only cares about what the university wants to hear.
“Hey, heyy, what's wrong with you?” Tai asks with a face when he runs into Ben on his way to their shared apartment.
“Ask that damn professor,” Ben growls. “I'm this close to throwing it all away.” But quitting isn’t an option. It never will be. What would his parents think? His uncle? Ben rolls his shoulders, clenching his fists. He would give anything right now to beat something up. Or someone.
Tai’s mouth curls into a crooked grin.
“I know what you need. I heard there's a party at the Red Factory tonight. Hardcore. Some Omegas are supposed to be there, too.”
At the word 'Omega', Ben's glands start to tingle. He's never been with an Omega before. In fact, he's never been within a hundred metres of one. Never smelled one up close. A little distraction is exactly what he needs right now.
Black jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket – that's his usual outfit for picking up Betas. Ben stands in front of the mirror, running pomade through his raven-black hair.
“You look ready for a hot night, Alpha,” teases Hennix, who’s also dressed to impress. Ben snorts, then suddenly remembers.
“Shit, my blockers!”
He rushes to the bathroom, where he keeps the tin. But when he opens it, he hesitates. To hell with the instructions — he studies biology and chemistry. A few hours won't make a big difference. And he’s surely not as dumb as his professor thinks. Ben suppresses a flare of anger. He wants to be free of this numbness. Wants to feel something, smell, taste, touch. He needs closeness and confirmation. To finally feel alive. His glands start to tingle and he rubs his wrists together to stop it. But it doesn’t work this time. With a sigh he closes the mirror cabinet and grins at his reflection. It looks awkward, like muscles long out of practice. He frowns. It's an experiment. Let's see how the Omegas react to his pheromones.
The Red Factory hasn't been a factory for years. Now it's a club famous for chaos and excess. Even politicians and corporate leaders come here sometimes. People who may one day be important meet here at night, away from the orderly routines that take place on campus during the day.
As soon as Ben steps into the main room, the air is knocked from his lungs. Pheromones hang thick in the air like fog. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply.
“You didn’t take your blockers?” Hennix stares at him, shocked.
Ben shakes his head and grins.
“Let him,” says Tai, elbowing Hennix in the ribs. “As long as he doesn't hit a wall with that boner...” A dirty laugh. Betas, they have no idea.
But Ben doesn't care. He knows his friends will look out for him if things get tough. It wouldn't be the first time. Reaching into his pocket, he discreetly adjusts his throbbing member while scanning the room with his eyes. A growl builds in his throat.
Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.
He has never gone without his blockers for more than two hours since he was thirteen. The scents around him sharpen his senses. His body tense and alert, ready to react. It’s a rush like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Confidence floods his mind and strength surges through his muscles as though they had been dormant all these years. Buried under obligation… He clenches his fist.
“Let's get a drink.” Driven by something primal, he pushes his way through the crowd towards the bar. In time with the red light, the beat drives the bodies moving in rhythm. But Ben sees sharply: contours and motion. He can smell and sense them before they move. A flash. It is overwhelming, intoxicating and exciting — like a drug.
He orders three beers, and they lean against the bar talking about trivial things while Ben's senses focus on the room.
Suddenly, he catches someone's gaze.
Red hair, exotic skin. He tilts his head slightly and runs his thumb over his lips, seemingly by accident. She's still looking. Sitting in one of the VIP lounges, surrounded by people dressed like money.
“See you later,” he tells his friends, takes one last drink and sets the empty bottle down. Then he strolls along the edge of the room, unhurried, hunting. He stops a few metres from the lounge, leans against a pillar, and observes. She tosses her long, shining hair over her shoulder. Briefly exposing the spot where her shoulder and neck meet. Her scent hits him even from here. A real Omega. Beautiful and sweet, at the peak of her allure. She glances at him again and again. Seemingly casually, while she talks and laughs with her friends. He waits patiently. Knows that if he steps closer, the two bulky bodyguards beside her will stop him. No, she has to come to him.
After what feels like an eternity, just as he starts to wonder what he’s even doing here, she moves. Whispers something to one of the guards, walks along the edge of the room towards a door, and disappears behind it. Ben's heartbeat quickens. This is it. He heads straight for the door marked 'Private'. When he opens it, dim light and silence greet him. There is no need for light anyway. Her scent guides him. And there she is. Surrounded by cables, speakers and an old DJ table, exhaling a thin stream of vapor from her e-cigarette.
“Alpha,” she says, the word soft and dangerous as she steps closer.
Her scent hits him hard, makes him dizzy. His glands throb. God, what has he got himself into?
“Omega,” he hears a voice say, rough and deep. It's his own.
He swallows as she slides her fingers over his chest. Slowly she pushes his leather jacket off his shoulders until it falls to the floor with a heavy thud.
“Strong,” she simply says, sliding her fingers down his body. Now over his waistband. Her nostrils quiver. Shit, his pheromones… she can sense them. A shock flows through him, electrifying and exciting. Her fingers wander deeper, pressing him, testing the situation.
Oh... fuck...
Ben puts his hands on her butt and pulls her close.
“Mine,” he growls, realising that his instincts have now taken over. His mind caught up in the rush of hormones, barely able to form a thought. They press their lips together, devour each other. It's not gentle or careful. But she tastes sweet and tender, like a rose petal. And her hair is red, slipping through his fingers like silk. He lifts her up, sets her on the DJ table. Pushes her skirt up and her panties aside. She rips open his trousers, freeing what is throbbing inside. A hoarse cry as he enters her.
It's hell. An all-consuming heat envelops him and torments him. Honey and rose strip away the last of his humanity, unleashing the monster he’s kept caged for so long.
“Damn it, Omega! You're mine now! Mine alone!”
What is he talking about? These are words he’s never thought before. New feelings that cry out for possession and control. And suddenly, it's not enough. He pulls back, turns her around and presses her upper body onto the desk. Brutally and firmly. Yes, that's what he needs now. She wants it too, goes along with it, endures it. Allows him to ram into her insides, just like animals do, and let her feel his strength. She presses herself against him, inviting him in with her tiny yet effective muscles.
“Fuck!” he gasps as she pushes him over the edge. He pours himself into her, pushing deeper until his knot popps out and he collapses on top of her.
“Ouch!” she complains beneath him.
“Sorry...” He immediately props himself up again.
“What a shitty situation. Don't tell me this was your first time.”
“Well... no!” he mutters.
“But your first time fucking an Omega, right?!”
He laughs awkwardly, face warm as he tries to conceal his embarrassment. “Yeah... guess so.”
She groans in annoyance.
“And how long does it take with your knot? I don't want to be stuck here all night.”
Instead of answering, Ben growls, grabs her hips and pushes himself a little deeper. She immediately gasps for air.
Control. Power. His.
He studies her face, still red and glowing. He'd demonstrate to her who's the Alpha and who's the Omega here. With a firm grip, he grabs her hair and pulls her head to the side. Her gland is small and pink, intact. Honey and rose. He takes a deep breath, lets the scent fill his lungs, then drags his tongue slowly over the sensitive skin, scraping his teeth until saliva runs down his chin. Sooo good, sooo hypnotising.
“Stop getting off on it or your knot will never go down! My legs are about to fall asleep!”
A growl escapes his throat.
“Keep talking like that, little Omega. I'll show you what happens when you contradict an Alpha. Do you hear me?!” He grasps her by the neck and forces her face against the desk. And as he notices that his knot is shrinking but not his erection, he starts thrusting again.
“Omega, I asked you something! Answer me!” His hips collide with her flesh and the desk rebounds off the wall. For the first time, he's used his Alpha voice. A command that she cannot refuse. A whole new world of pleasure through dominance sprouts within him, and he feels a surge of excitement as he thinks about the things he could do.
“Y-yes, Alpha. I'll do as you say.”
“Good.” He pulls out of her.
“Turn around, sit down,” he commands, grasping her legs to shift them over his shoulders. With a groan, he enters her again.
“I can do this all night, Omega. Until you forget who you are. That's what you want, isn't it? To forget! Say it!” he orders, gripping her jaw firmly. Her eyes are wide open, her pupils dilated and her insides contracting around him.
“Yes, I want... I want to forget,” she gasps.
“Give me a name, Omega.” Another command. “Come on, say my name!” he shouts at her.
“Kylo!”
“Who is your Alpha!?”
“You! It's you, Kylo!”
The name echoes inside him. Strange and familiar at the same time. It's almost as if she hadn't chosen it, but it had chosen him.
Kylo looks down at himself. Tension in his muscles, bulging veins, his entire length inside her, sweat running down his stomach. He thrusts hard. Fuck, he needed that. At least for this moment he is free... and can forget... can feel that he is alive.