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The thing about being an emotionally unstable, head-bashing maniac that tore the entire hierarchy of a well-known high-tier high school like Wellston apart was that at the end of the day, everyone ended up assuming you were an alpha.
After all, what secondary gender, if not an alpha, would be that violent, rageful, and victorious against all of the highest-ranked alphas?
Clearly, alphas always fought for domination - it was simply their most defining feature. Alphas were loud, violent, brash and domineering. They fought each other over petty things, they were territorial, they were quick to throw the first punch.
And the Joker, well. The Joker was all those things on a whole other level, is what he was.
It had been a few days since John had been back from his indefinite suspension after the whole Joker incident, and a few days ago after hearing that the supposed emotionally unstable alpha was returning, Blyke had hastily packed his bags to camp out in Isen's rooms again.
He hadn't packed his bags enough, it seemed. He'd run out of clothes, and Isen was being a douche by not lending any of his (alpha territorialism and all that) - not that Blyke particularly wanted to be smelling like Isen's putrid crispy chicken-scented pheromones (he had some dignity as an alpha too, though recessive he may be, thank you very much). His ultimatum was that Isen go with him, just in case there was a particularly insane alpha hanging around. Not that they could do anything against John, as he'd already proven himself fully capable of smashing every royal off their perch altogether. He was an alpha above alphas, rumoured to even be a prime dominant - the highest rank of alpha (like Arlo).
So when Blyke opened his dorm room door, Isen trailing closely behind, and they were hit with a face full of overwhelming distressed omega-in-heat pheromones, what else were they to think but that John, as an ultimate alpha, was doing something unfathomable to a poor omega in Blyke's very dorm room?
Needless to say, Blyke saw red.
(No, it wasn't his reflection.)
He marched over to John's door, all fear of facing the madman forgotten. He didn't bother knocking; there was a very distressed omega inside, for crying out loud. Knocking was a waste of precious time.
He kicked open the door, the knob slamming into the wall, and let out a fierce alpha growl.
"John! What do you think you're -"
Blyke paused. Blinked. Squinted, sniffed the air carefully. Then glanced over his shoulder with a bewildered look in his eyes to meet Isen's just as flabbergasted expression.
*****
Now let's pause for a moment and talk about omegas.
Maybe a hundred years ago, omegas were discriminated against, said to be the weakest of all genders and only fit for making babies - you know, all that wallabagonda. But now? The status of an omega wasn't higher than an alpha, generally, but they were at least seen as equal. Even low-tiers had more rights. In fact, if one was a low-tier omega, they could actually be treated better than a high-tier beta any day of the week by anyone around. Low-tier betas weren't worth the time of day; low-tier alphas would get their faces pummeled for spreading the slightest whiff of pheromone; but omegas? They were at least respected before getting a beating - if any beating at all. Most of the time, a thug would just be on their way after a few rude remarks about their rank.
Omegas weren't just respected; they were practically adored by society. They were these amazing beings who could calm a gang of the most ruthless alphas, they were these saintly, kind people who would even help out a low-tier.
In Wellston, Arlo was the highest-ranking alpha; a Prime Dominant alpha - the elite of the elite. Seraphina, along with Isen, Cecile, and Zeke, were the majority of the school's Dominant alphas. Blyke was a recessive, though he wasn't generally given a hard time for that because of his high-tier standing.
Remi, on the other hand, was Wellston's one and only Dominant omega. It left her with a whole lot of fame and fawn, before even taking into consideration her title as Queen.
Wellston was not only well-known for its students with high-ranking powers, but for its students with high-ranking secondary genders, too.
Which ultimately made it all the more questionable why John, a supposed cripple, even bothered to enroll as a mere beta, of all things.
It made a whole lot more sense if he was a Prime Dominant alpha with god-tier abilities.
But what made everyone truly believe his high-ranking secondary gender was the sheer strength and amount of pheromones that exploded during each fight. Omegas generally had sweeter smells, like desserts, and conveyed their emotions by their scents changing to either sweeter or entirely sour.
Alphas, on the other hand, all smelt more like general scents, like a savoury meal, or a natural smell. The stronger their rank, the more dominating that scent seemed to be. Their emotions might change their pheromones slightly - making a calm rainforest-smelling pheromone into a more tropical rainforest if feeling positive, making it smell more like a smothering, damp downpour if feeling negative - but ultimately, their scents were pretty stable.
During the Joker fiasco, John's pheromones had erupted each fight. Every alpha and omega in the vicinity would have been alerted with him being Dominant; but the fact that even the betas were getting a whiff meant he was clearly beyond that. That alone could have taken down his opponents.
But his fury was so suffocating. What could have possibly been a calm pheromone of a toasty campfire turned into an entire forest burning down, cloying smoke and sparking cinders threatening to throttle any rank below him. And they all were, it seemed. Including Arlo.
He did not smell sweet. He did not smell sour. He just smelt like danger.
It earned him the title of a Prime Dominant alpha, and even the betas went running for the hills at a mere whiff of that scent.
Which was why Blyke hadn't questioned the sickly sweet smell of toasted marshmallows mixed with that same cloying forest fire in the slightest as he barged right into John's room.
A wave of pheromones, panicked-weak-uncomfortable hit them with all the intensity of a punch to the face. They originated from deeper within the room, barely muffled through the partially-cracked-open cupboard door. From the inner depths were two dull golden eyes, dazed and far too unfocused for Blyke's liking. A splotch of dark hair was matted to a pale forehead, cheeks slightly flushed with fever, sweat dripping like a fountain down his face.
All this was to say that John, of all things, was without a doubt an omega.
And, from the feeling of Blyke's alpha instincts screaming to help the poor omega, John was a powerful one.
Blyke wavered in the doorway for a moment, listening to the weak, almost inaudible growl John attempted to scare them away with. If anything, it simply made his alpha instincts roar in response. Blyke instinctively released his own protective-safe-comforting pheromones into the air and before he was even aware of himself, he had stepped into the room with a strong, reassuring rumble resonating from his throat.
John's quiet growl stuttered for a moment, in which Blyke had reached the cupboard. He chuffed, releasing more pheromones - safe-alpha-helping.
John was quiet, wheezing breaths filling the silence of the room. his glazed eyes, half-open, drifted to the side for a moment, then the omega blinked and seemed to struggle to focus back on Blyke. He let out a soft whine. That was all Blyke needed to push the cupboard door open to expose the omega, wrapped in a burrito of blankets and curled into the back corner of a tiny, crumbling mess of a nest.
Something in Blyke's alpha brain growled at that. Omegas needed nests for their own personal comfort and healthy mental state, and the messier an omega's nest, the worse their mental and emotional stability was. It was like the physical form of an omega screaming, "I need help and protection," and the location of such a nest being hidden in the bottom of John's cupboard, well...it was a wonder John was still alive, in all honesty. Generally, omegas tended to go through severe depression till the point of suicide when their nests were hidden, messy and small like John's.
In the back of Blyke's rational mind, which was practically smothered by his alpha instincts at this point, he filed away the observation of John's nest and the new light in which Joker's actions were taking - it didn't look pretty, but it certainly made sense.
But that was a thought for another time, as now Blyke was focused on gingerly squeezing himself into the omega's nest without making a mess of it further. He noticed John was slumped into the corner of the cupboard, not even able to lift his head, and violent tremors dislodged the blankets wrapped around him little by little. Blyke managed to shuffle into a somewhat comfortable sitting position within the nest, hauling John - blankets and all - into his lap.
John was large for an omega, but no larger than Blyke himself. Blyke, as a recessive, was small for an alpha too. Despite them being around the same size, with John's current state, he seemed far smaller and frailer than he should've.
Blyke ruffled through the blankets, exposing John's head and neck. He rumbled soothingly when John let out a warbled whimper, and John seemed to settle a little at the constant soothing sound.
It would have been something he would have baulked at the mere implication of, a month ago. Even a day ago, he would've thought this whole situation was beyond a fever dream. But the fact that he was now rubbing his wrist scent glands over John's - who was an omega of all things, known for their kind and caring nature - cheek and down to his neck to give him a proper scenting, was such an act so natural to his alpha instincts that he didn't even question it.
(Somewhere deep in his rational mind he was reeling, sure, but the truth behind John's secondary gender explained so much it was crazy that nobody had come to this conclusion to begin with.)
John full-body jolted when Blyke reached the scent glands on the side of his neck. He let out a choked sound, something between a yelp and a whimper. It was almost like he'd never been scented before, with how as soon as Blyke's pheromones physically layered over the (incredibly red, puffy and painful-looking) gland, John's eyes rolled up into his head and he full-body shuddered, letting out a deafening keen, almost a wail.
Blyke jolted at the noise, his rumbling stuttering before he started up again with renewed vigour. He'd never heard of such a sound from an omega, especially from being scented.
This was alarming to the point of Blyke's alpha instincts almost receding.
But then John's scent billowed out further, heat-safe-weak. Blyke chuffed, earning a rusty chirp in response, and his alpha brain soared.
*****
"Doc!" Isen greeted as the good doctor of Wellston appeared around the corner of the hallway.
"Tell me what's going on? I swear, if this isn't as urgent as you're making it out to be -" Doc's aura rumbled with threat.
Isen grimaced. "It really is," he promised.
He then stepped to the side so Doc could enter the dorm room.
The older alpha took one breath and immediately narrowed his eyes, glancing to Isen.
"Give me a breakdown of what's happening," he said in a much more serious tone than before.
Isen made short work of explaining how Blyke had roped him into following to pick up some of Blyke's stuff from his room, and as soon as they had opened the door, they'd both sensed the omega pheromones and had come to the natural conclusion - considering they had assumed John was an alpha - that the worst possible scenario was happening. Blyke had kicked down the door and had practically immediately gotten overwhelmed by - clearly not an alpha - the high-ranked omega pheromones John was emitting, and had succumed to his alpha instincts and had entered to try and help John in the most basic way his alpha had deemed appropriate: scent-marking.
Isen, however, had immediately turned away from the situation - after ensuring that was all Blyke was doing and assessing the situation as much as he could while battling his own alpha instincts - and called the doctor.
Doc frowned. "So you're telling me he screamed when he was scented?" He fished a mask out of his pocket and fixed it over his nose with one hand.
"Not quite a scream, but it definitely sounded like he was in pain. Really, there's just something wrong with him. He seems really sick."
"Are you aware he's in heat?" Doc asked, marching into the dorm room and heading towards John's personal quarters.
"Yeah, but like - omega heats aren't supposed to smell like that, right? And he seems really ill, like he didn't even move until Blyke scented him, and it looked like he almost had a seizure then. When Remi's in heat, she just gets super clingy and wants cuddles in her nest, and wants us to play with her hair. But John seems almost like he's dying."
Doc paused at John's door, pursing his lips as he glanced down at Isen. "Hopefully he hasn't gotten that far yet," he muttered almost to himself.
Then he entered, first aid kit in hand, and quickly surveyed the scene.
John certainly did not look well. He was as white as his bed linens, with splotchy fever-red on his cheeks. His eyes weren't fully closed, but he was clearly unconscious by only the whites visible. He was shaking, full-body spasms even as he was tightly wrapped in a blanket and held firm by Blyke. Blyke, on the other hand, had wrapped himself around the omega like he was hugging a body pillow, and was staring at Doc with a ferocity it could only be pure alpha instinct. Blyke was not present at the moment; alpha was in control here.
And Alpha did not like two more alphas invading his omega's space when said omega was this weak.
Isen stopped just outside the threshold, cover his nose with his sleeve. John's pheromones were making his head go a little fuzzy, making his alpha hindbrain rumble and claw to get to the forefront.
Doc stopped in front of the cupboard, crouching down slowly and placing the first aid kit on the floor beside him. Blyke was growling now, shifting to try and hide John from Doc's view. His pheromones were exploding in a mix of stay away-protect-mine that mingled with John's sick-heat-alpha safe in a dizzyingly off-putting combination that any alpha in their right mind would back away from.
"It's okay, Blyke," Doc sighed. "I know you're trying to protect him, but he's very sick and I need to see him. I want to help, okay?"
Blyke growled in response, but made no move when Doc reached forward carefully.
"I promise I'm just going to help. I won't take your omega away from you."
Something about those words must have reached Blyke because he stopped growling and chuffed, seemingly quite proud of himself.
(Isen's alpha growled at that. He blinked in surprise as his own pheromones tried to escape - superior alpha-omega mine-must claim - and quickly tried to reign himself back in.)
Isen backed away a step and he was about to turn away when he spotted a discarded syringe on the floor by the head of John's bed. It looked like a standard heat suppressant.
He frowned and leaned forward again.
"Hey, Doc. There's a needle on the floor there."
Doc glanced over from where he was examining John's neck glands with a dark look in his eye. Doc didn't usually look at anything like that unless it was serious, and Isen's alpha was growing more and more concerned by the minute.
"Right. Thanks, I'll take a look at that in a minute." Doc glanced at Isen then, raising an eyebrow. "You should probably go if you don't want to go into rut like your friend here."
Isen just nodded. He could feel his grasp on his instincts fading, and backpeddled from the doorway.
"Alrighty then, I'll leave you to it!"
He turned and darted out of the dorm room, closing the door behind him.
He somehow made it outside. The fresh air hit him like a ton of bricks, dousing his alpha instincts as effectively as a dive into the ocean in winter.
Back to his senses, Isen stopped in his tracks. John was an omega.
What the -
*****
"Hey Remi," Isen started, pondering what to say next.
"Yeah?" Remi looked up from whatever Safe House paperwork she was dealing with. Probably to do with that upcoming trip, if Isen had to guess.
"What do you know about the feral state?"
Remi blinked, placing her pencil down. Then she narrowed her eyes accusingly at him.
"Are you trying to imply something?" Remi snapped.
Isen hurriedly waved his hands in surrender. "No, not at all! That's not what I meant. I was just wondering."
Remi squinted at him for a moment longer, then sighed and glanced around at the empty room. It wasn't lunch yet - Isen had a free period, but he was pretty sure Remi didn't, so he didn't know why she was here - so the Safe House classroom would be empty for a good twenty minutes longer, at least.
"I've heard about it before, but never actually seen it. Or experienced it, for that matter. But as far as I know, it's a rare occurrence only found in omegas. A feral state happens when they deem themselves to be in real danger and they have no alpha to protect themselves. I've heard of cases where an omega's alpha has been attacked and the omega goes feral to fight off the attackers. But most of the time, the root cause for an omega to enter a feral state is extreme hormonal imbalances due to lack of pack stability or, in the worst cases, lack of pack altogether."
Remi sounded like she was reading out of a textbook.
It was enough for Isen to piece together what was beginning to look a pretty tragic picture, though. Isen brooded such an obvious picture as he made the trek back to his room, mulled over possibilities as he booted up his computer, frowned deeper with a pit growing ever larger in his stomach as he started researching. (Research, Blyke, not stalking. He researched.)
When it came to feral omegas, it was a pretty well-known fact that it required a whole lot of hormonal instability and a great perceived threat. For John-who-was-not-an-alpha-like-everyone-had-assumed, as far as Isen knew, he was a single child of a family of two: a beta father, and John himself. Perhaps, at his old school in New Boston, he might have made a pack with a few friends. However, looking at the records, his only two friends were both betas, and he was still classified as unpresented himself. Which was, generally, a pretty common occurrence for a high-ranking alpha or omega. The stronger the pheromones, the longer it took for their bodies to adjust to such a change and hence, the later the presentation. But that generally also meant there was more of a build-up of unreleased, unstable pheromones due to prolonged suppression.
For a recessive, presentation usually happened around the age of 10-13, at the very start of puberty. Dominants presented between 14-16 years old and had a bit of a stronger presenting heat or rut. For a Prime, it could happen anywhere in their late teens, from the age of 16 to even 20.
John was 18, unpresented two years ago, and was in a feral state when he took down the hierarchy, which indicated he'd had quite the build-up of unstable hormones already.
Isen did some more research, fingers clacking his keyboard loudly.
A Prime Dominant omega was a rarity in itself; 15% of the population was an omega, and only 4 out of 100 omegas were deemed to be a Prime.
In terms of hormonal stability, when a Prime first presented, they generally already were quite unstable compared to other omegas because they were presenting so late. It was also an absolute necessity for there to be various alphas in their pack present for their first heat, especially if none of them were Primes, because it took a whole lot more pheromones for a Prime to stabilise than with a Dominant.
Isen leaned back in his chair, tucking his knees up to his chest and spinning in a circle. He wasn't sure what John did in those two years before he enrolled at Wellston. But as far as he knew, there was no school in-between, so that cancelled out the whole platonic pack possibility.
Which meant, more likely than anything else, John had either presented during those two years and had no alpha present to begin with; or he'd presented sometime during his time at Wellston, in which his only potential alpha packmate would have been Seraphina.
Either way, there wouldn't have been enough alpha pheromones to stabilise him during his presentation heat, and he was sorely lacking in packmates.
Isen stopped his spinning with a knee to the desk. He blinked the vertigo out of his eyes and leaned forward to tap at the keys again.
Because Prime omegas were so rare, there wasn't a lot of information about them. However, there were several warnings of only three cases in history when a Prime omega was found to go feral.
The first was during a war; some old, ancient war where a single omega wiped out half an army of invaders. It wasn't recorded the exact details to what triggered the feral state, but it was rumoured that the Prime's sole alpha had been killed during battle and the broken link had made the omega snap. It had taken eighteen Dominant alphas to take the omega down, and by then their army had lost anyway.
The second recorded instance was over sixty years ago, and had occurred in a foreign country during an outbreak of a fatal disease. It had a lot more information than the first case. The Prime had a good number of platonic packmates but no personal ones; five of those packmates were alphas. The Prime's packmates had caught the sickness and half had died; of the two alphas left, one was recessive, and the other was married and decided to evacuate the area with his family and abandon his platonic pack. The outbreak had quickly thrown the country into an economic disaster, and crime rates sky rocketed. The Prime, Sekari Bolevare, had been threatened by a thug and had gone feral in self-defense, taking out every thug in her area and becoming a well-known mob boss by the end of it.
The third case was a bit different. It was about twenty years ago, a Prime from an elite family, who had plenty of platonic packmates, but no personal ones because the parents were hardly around. Both parents were alphas but never spread their scent, as elites tended to do (Isen knew that one from Arlo and Seraphina). Apparently, the Prime had simply not seen any of their alpha friends for a while, and then their parents had come home smelling like pheromones and they'd simply snapped at the sudden invasion of external alpha pheromones. Luckily, the mother was a Prime Dominant alpha, and managed to create a personal bond with her daughter before anyone was injured beyond repair. Not so luckily, the parents were brought to court for severe neglect of their child, and needless to say they were soon reliquished of their 'elite' status.
Isen spun his chair around again, this time the opposite direction.
In conclusion, the feral state was triggered in various ways; a perceived threat wasn't just a physical threat, it could also be triggered by invading alpha pheromones, a sudden lack of alpha pheromones from distance, or the death of alpha packmates that could cause a state of shock.
Which, when Isen thought about when John first snapped, it made a whole lot more sense. Platonic packmates didn't necessarily have to have a bond with each other; some simply just shared pheromones and their instincts accepted them as their alpha or omega. After all, betas didn't have pheromones at all, yet could be included in a pack without a bond or pheromone sharing.
So if John had perceived Seraphina as his packmate, he'd had at least one alpha. But being a Prime, one Dominant alpha wouldn't have been enough, and then when she was suspended, the lack of her pheromones would have messed his hormones even more.
When Arlo took him out for a fight, it was only reasonable that in such an unstable state, John would have snapped and gone feral. It was only a miracle that he hadn't killed them all.
Feral states were hard to stop, too. For a recessive omega, soothing pheromones of any of their alpha packmates would have been enough to snap them out; for a Dominant, it might take a bit more of a pheromone shower to properly control.
For a Prime with no way to reach his sole lower-rank alpha, no amount of pheromone showers would have been enough to properly stabilise, and any sort of agressive alpha pheromones would have been enough to set him off all over again.
So then why had he attacked Remi, a Dominant omega?
Remi had a few platonic packmates, two of whom were alphas and regularly scented her. Blyke was recessive, so he naturally had less control over his pheromones, but he also had weaker pheromones. That didn't mean someone so sensitive to pheromones such as a Prime wouldn't pick up on them, though.
Isen himself was a Dominant alpha. If either of them had showered Remi in pheromones, like when she'd become distraught from her brother's death, she would have been walking around covered in more alpha pheromones than her own dominant pheromones.
Which, to an extremely unstable Prime omega who had just been traumatised all high-tier alphas, would have easily snapped at her without a second thought, too.
Isen stopped his spinning and stumbled over to his bed. He sighed, flopping onto his back and watching the ceiling swirl from the vertigo.
When Seraphina had returned and lost her abilities, her pheromones had also become unstable. Then she'd basically gone straight to Arlo. She'd even gone to Isen himself. If she had been hanging around them instead of John, those alpha pheromones mixing with her own unstable ones would have been enough to send him spiralling.
Then Isen had to wonder: did Seraphina known that John was an omega?
Because she was from an elite family, too. So what if she hadn't ever actually scented him at all back when she had her abilities? What if he'd deemed her a platonic packmate, but had never actually gotten any sort of alpha pheromones to stabilise his hormones at all? Wouldn't that mean it would've been an even bigger blow for him when her pheromones were suddenly out of control and unstable?
So then that would've explained why he went feral with her, too, to the extent that he did. What if he'd perceived his sole packmate as gone, and suddenly deemed himself packless with an imposter spreading wrong pheromones around instead?
The more Isen thought, the more the whole situation was starting to turn into a miracle John hadn't slaughtered the entire student body.
He'd heard that both alphas and omegas who were packless or neglected could get extremely sick. It was called pack sickness and stemmed from an imbalance of pheromones and lack of scenting for an extended period of time. It was a detrimental illness and could even be fatal without proper treatment. One of the main symptoms was a severe pheromone rejection response that caused intense levels of stress for the individual when they were exposed to everyone else's pheromones, and could be a lifelong condition if not treated early enough.
Which brought Isen back to the present, where Blyke and Isen had found a very sick omega huddled in a sad, messy nest tucked into a closet in order to hide from all the alphas he'd deemed threats not so long ago. And the red, swollen scent glands, and the averse reaction from receiving a scenting from Blyke.
It was more likely than not that John hadn't just been sick when they'd found him; he was probably at death's door, from the looks (and scent) of it.
Isen sat up and swallowed, feeling far too guilty for having not known anything a mere day ago. Heck, that morning alone, everyone in the school had thought John was merely an aggressive alpha.
Well. Now that he knew, Isen had two options: to do something about this knowledge, or to get someone else to do something about it.
Recalling what he knew about a Prime Dominant omega needing several alphas within their pack with regular pheromone exchanges, he figured he would probably need both of those options.
*****
So it started like this: after Doc had diagnosed John with part of what Isen had feared, an extreme case of pack sickness combined with a physical rejection of heat suppressants and a severe pheromone rejection stress disorder, Blyke had spent an entire five days with the omega in a rut of his own. By the end of it, Blyke had not only properly scented and ensured they were now platonic packmates, but he had also formed a bond with John.
To Isen's horror, Blyke told him that it was the first bond John had ever had.
(It was getting harder not to notice the looming door of death behind John every time he looked at the other boy now.)
In accordance with Blyke being the first and only physical bond in John's new pack, John had been in a very pheromone-drunk state when Doc had finally allowed Isen back into the room to check up on them. It had been five days since they had entered, five days of Blyke trying to get John properly comfortable with his pheromones while John went through a rough emergency treatment Doc had concocted, and after those five days John had finally tilted his neck and allowed the bite.
So here's the other thing: teenagers, and even children beyond the age of five or six, generally, never got pheromone drunk. To be in such a state was a common occurrence for toddlers and babies, when they were showered with parents' pheromones in order to soothe them and show them love, and was a natural response to being overwhelmed by pheromones when one was unused to them. As kids grew older, they generally got used to them, so being in a state of drunkeness on pheromones wore off by the time they actually presented.
John was currently pheromone drunk. John had a single father who was a beta and therefore did not have pheromones.
John's entire life was basically a tragedy, in terms of him being an omega.
Isen had let out a bit of his own pheromones, which had mixed with Blyke's in a cacophony of safe-protect-sorry and safe-protect-mine. John had practically had no irises, pupils blown so wide. Despite no longer smelling of heat, he was fully submerged in his omega instincts, and he somehow followed the connection between Blyke and Isen and deemed Isen a safe alpha too.
John chirped in greeting, words beyond him.
Isen, surprised, rumbled in response before he could think about it. Blyke chuffed at Isen to invite him into the nest. Which, nice and all, but Isen's instincts still waited for John's approval.
John crooned, insistently calling Isen over.
He didn't hesitate this and gingerly climbed in the nest, Blyke shifting over to make enough room. It was cramped and there was still an overwhelming amount of sickly pheromones lingering on all the materials (Isen's inner alpha growled at that. An omega's nest was supposed to be their safest place, not smell like death,) but Isen somehow managed to get comfortable.
John's pheromones were incredibly strong. Isen was surprised Blyke wasn't in rut. He felt like his own rut would start any minute, but this was supposed to be protecting the omega, not about himself.
He offered John is wrist. John, who was curled up in Blyke's lap, rubbing his cheek lazily on Blyke's shoulder as the red-head contentedly stroked a hand through the omega's hair. John's glazed eyes spotted Isen's wrist and he paused his purring to chirp.
Isen rumbled in protective satisfaction as he rubbed his scent glands over John's hair, neck, and wrist. John's eyes fluttered shut from the sudden scenting, his purr echoing in the room like a car engine. Isen gave Blyke a small scenting too, rubbing his wrist over Blyke's hair and earning a pleased rumble in response.
They stayed like that, pheromones emanating and mingling as they rumbled and purred and cuddled (and napped), until John was somewhat back to his senses half a day later. Then he squinted at Isen, who offered his wrist again, and gripped his arm just above his scent glands to sniff at Isen's pheromones carefully.
After a long pause in which John assessed Isen's sorry-safe-understanding pheromones, he then took a deep breath, tilted his head, and chirped.
Isen's rut started the moment he sank his teeth into John's neck.
*****
At some point, of course, Remi had to find out about the whole fiasco because it was kind of suspicious for both the red and orange-haired boys to disappear for eight days straight after having alerted her they were going to pick up something from Blyke's - and thus also John's - room. Of course, she had seen Isen within the past week, and whenever she asked about Blyke, Isen had just told her he was busy doing something that was long overdue.
But it had been a further three days that Isen had disappeared, too, and now she was concerned.
But also extremely busy because the upcoming Safe House trip was in four days and both Seraphina and Arlo were acting strange.
(Being the only Dominant omega in school already had its hardships; having both of her alpha packmates acting weird as well as her not-bonded but technically-a-packmate alpha? Not something she could mentally handle; she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind.)
"Isen!" Remi growled when the boy finally showed his face in the Safe House. There were a few students milling around, all pausing in their tracks at hearing a Dominant omega growl.
Isen held his hands up in surrender, rumbling reassuringly. "I can explain -"
"You better!" Remi snapped, standing up and grabbing his wrist to drag him out of the room into the empty hallway.
She turned to him and crossed her arms, glaring.
Then she caught a scent - a scent she didn't recognise. There were a lot of pheromones, actually, crowding Isen's own, and she blinked in confusion as she tried to pick them out. They were an omega's, clearly. Showered away, but still there - Isen must have bonded with someone. The pheromones were faint, but for a Dominant, she could pick out how strong the omega must've been, probably a higher-classed omega than herself even. There was something underlying those pheromones that seemed very wrong, like sickness or distress or something of the sort, she couldn't quite tell. But other than that, they smelt faintly of toasted marshmallows, sweet and smoky at the same time.
"You were with an omega?" Remi asked, though it ended up sounding more like a statement. Her chest was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.
Isen grimaced. "Yeah..."
Remi suddenly thought back to when Isen had asked that random question about feral omegas. She scrunched her nose, eyes wide. Was that what the underlying wrongness was?
"What did you do?" She growled.
Isen opened his mouth, his expression not the slightest bit guilty. (It soothed some of her fears, but that just made her more confused. Isen had a good set of morals, generally, and he had a lot of respect for omegas, so his ease spoke volumes about what he couldn't have done.) In fact, he looked more constipated, actually. Like he had something very big to say, but couldn't figure out the right way to say it.
Remi sighed, relaxing. "If you can't tell me, I'll just ask Blyke."
"No, no," Isen said quickly. "I just don't know where to start. It's...a lot, I will admit, and it's probably best not to tell you here."
"Okay, so then where would be better?"
"I don't...know." Isen paused, then shook his head. "No, that probably wouldn't be very good. Listen, I'll talk to you later, okay? At lunch. I promise, I'll tell you everything then. I just gotta deal with something first, alright?"
"If you weren't going to give me an explanation for why half my packmates have suddenly ghosted me, why did you come here at all?" Remi was trying very hard to stay calm at this point.
"I just wanted to let you know we're both okay, and sorry for ghosting you. But we'll tell you everything at lunch, okay?" Isen turned and started walking away hurriedly. He glanced back and held a hand up to wave at her. "Promise!"
Remi scowled after him, battling with her inner omega's crying at the betrayal. It's not a betrayal, she told herself sternly. They haven't abandoned me. They're just being weird as usual.
Lunch couldn't come fast enough.
Remi reached the Safe House classroom before she could even think about where to wait for her two friends, but paused in the hallway.
Standing at the door was John. John, the Joker, the maniac-who-smashed-all-the-royal's-faces-in Joker, that John. Who had been suspended last Remi heard, and had returned a couple weeks ago after Blyke had returned from his own suspension.
"If you threaten anybody here again -" Remi started.
John practically jumped out of his skin, whirling around and staring at her with wide eyes. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and waved them in surrender.
"I wasn't - I won't. Sorry. I mean, I was just curious -"
Remi watched him flounder, some part of her awed that the same fury-crazed boy who'd beaten her to a pulp could act like a normal, awkward teen.
"If you want to join, you have to prove that you won't hurt anybody anymore," she interrupted his ramble.
He stopped, opened and closed his mouth for a moment, then nodded. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking away. "I just...was curious what all the hype was about."
Remi passed him, catching a faint whiff of pheromones that tickled something in her mind. She quickly forgot about, though, and opened the door.
"Do you want to come in?" She asked, glancing back at John, who was fidgeting nervously behind her.
He huffed, inhaled deeply, held his breath and nodded. Exhaled in a puff, ran a hand through his messy hair.
Remi held the door open and stepped to the side, watching as everyone in the room went from calling greetings to her to sudden, absolute silence.
John peeked in, eyes flicking from person to person. He didn't seem to find what he was searching for. He tucked his hands into his pockets and stepped into the room, moving over to an empty desk - the crowd parted like the red sea and everyone moved to the other side of the room, so technically he cleared most of the desks - and sat down without much attention to anyone else. A book was pulled from somewhere - had he always been holding that?
The room watched him for a minute, but he didn't look up. When they seemed to figure he wasn't going to blow up, whispers started up. Some students crept slightly closer, but all in all, he was given a wide berth all around.
Remi headed for her usual seat by the window and dropped her binder on the desk. She knew she couldn't focus, but that didn't stop her from pulling out a few papers anyway.
The door opened again and Remi looked over a little too quickly.
A familiar mop of red hair appeared in the doorway, quickly finding her and waving cheerfully.
Then he spotted the lone raven-head, who was staring back at him.
To Remi's utmost surprise, Blyke went over to John, instead of her.
To her further surprise, he didn't threaten, he didn't act hostile. In fact, he went over, reached out a hand...and patted John on the head.
"Hey, John! Didn't expect you to come."
Remi stared.
Everyone else in the Safe House stared.
John blinked in surprise. There was no hostility at all.
"You - you...what are you doing?" John stammered, ducking from the hand still on his head.
Blyke just smiled. "Sorry, your hair is just kinda...fluffy."
John grumbled something under his breath.
Then Blyke brushed his wrist over John's hair and, okay. So Remi knows how Blyke scents his packmates, and from her angle, she can see the quick but purposeful motion. Most of the other students, however, cannot, and don't really pick up on what just happened.
But Remi stares as the absurd thought of Blyke and John, of all people, could possibly be packmates flickers through her mind.
Isen appears then, at the doorway. He prances into the room waving around a sheet of paper and halts with one leg still up in the air as he realises the room is deathly silent, most students still huddled on one side of the room, and the rather blinding presence of one ex-Joker and one red-headed goof both turning to stare back at him.
"Oh," is all Isen says, then turns and looks at Remi.
He must read something in her expression because he then turns and glares at Blyke, who simply turns his head away in a pointed attempt to ignore Isen's demanding gaze.
"Isen," Remi says.
"Remi," Isen greets, false-cheerfully. "Outside?"
"Outside," Remi snips, marching past Isen out the door.
Isen gives Blyke a glare of betrayal, then his expression changes as he closes the door and turns back to Remi.
"Listen -"
"Rooftop," Remi says, without stopping. Yes, she wants to hear what he has to say. No, she doesn't want to explode in the hallway outside the Safe House of all places.
Because she just knows whatever he's going to say is going to be mind-blowing, and there's only two ways she could react to that. (Both ways may come with a little harmless electrocution to one particular orange-haired idiot.)
Sure enough, what he has to say as soon as they reach the rooftop and the door clicks shut, is enough for her to give him a light zap that he was absolutely expecting.
"You what with John?!" Remi cried.
"It wasn't just me! It was Blyke too, okay? We bonded with him. Platonically, of course. And he didn't have any packmates to begin with, and it was his first-ever bond, and he had pack sickness and kind of still does, as well as some sort of pheromone rejection stress response, but he's recovering now after Doc saved him and -"
"How?! I thought you both hated him, especially Blyke. You were so terrified of him you had to go hand-in-hand to get Blyke's clothes! How on earth did you become packmates to another alpha who fought you both and won?"
Here, Isen hesitated.
"No!" Remi snapped, already sensing a lie forming. Or, at least, a dismissal. "You give me a proper explanation, and tell me the whole story! What's going on?"
Isen exhaled through his nose, pheromones flaring for a bit.
Before he could say anything, the rooftop door swung open and Blyke stepped onto the rooftop. At his heels, peeking over his shoulder almost like a meerkat, was John.
Remi stared at them with the same suspicion she'd glared at Isen a moment ago.
"Tell me what's going on."
"John's an omega," Blyke blurted.
Remi wasn't exactly sure how she reacted after that.
To be fair, they had at least been honest when they told her the full story. Blyke had told her exactly what happened when they'd gone into the room, with John avoiding everyone's gaze at that. Isen had then laid all his theories on the table, and Remi's inner omega had practically howled that it needs to be packmates with John.
After one very long lunchtime that may or may not have extended to skipping the next period, Remi turned to John and practically demanded to scent him herself.
John, looking extremely bewildered and a little bit overwhelmed, had chirped in agreement, then sounded surprised with himself. As though his inner omega was agreeing without his direct thought.
Remi didn't hesitate to get to her feet (they had all plopped down in a circle at some point) and strode around to John's back, where her Dominant omega pheromones exploded like a face full of lemon meringue.
John's pupils blew wide at the onslaught of omega pheromones and Remi crooned encouragingly. With a whine, John tilted his head, and Remi found herself submitting to her omega instincts and latching on to bite him before she knew it.
Omega-omega bonds were generally made the same way alpha-omega bonds were made, except their bite marks faded over time unlike an alpha's. Platonic packmates usually made smaller bites on the right side of the neck, and generally layered them on top of each other when they were from the same pack.
So far, John had three bites on his neck, but all were in the same spot, so it just looked like one very messy mark.
Still, the bond snapped into place and John promptly slumped into her. Remi crooned, omega instincts flaring, and wrapped her arms around him as she sat down and got comfortable.
John was larger than her, both in build and height, yet somehow she managed to maneouvre them in such a way that he was wrapped up in her lap and she was able to stroke her wrist over his head and nuzzle his neck. He just purred like a little tank engine, pheromones exploding once again as her pheromones mingled with his.
Blyke and Isen shifted to squish into either side of the two omegas, and all four spent the next period like that until John came back to his senses again.
(If he took a little while longer to bask in the feeling of unfiltered affection, nobody said anything.)
*****
The four had begun a sort of rhythm after that. Remi took it upon herself to teach John how to accept his inner omega, and despite him outclassing her, she was accepted as the older omega of the two (having been an omega for longer, and having been a part of the pack longer) and thus had more authority as a pack omega. John found himself growing used to the random scentmarking of his new packmates, and was pleasantly surprised how much clearer his mind felt every time he smelt the two alpha's pheromones on him. They spent their afternoons together in either Isen's room, where they generally group-cuddled and talked about serious things they shouldn't really be doing while John napped from the overwhelming pheromones, or they huddled in the big nest Remi and John had made together for them all in Blyke and John's shared space in their dorm. John grew used to random interruptions for cuddles at night, where Blyke would sense his nightmares or anxieties and barge in and fill John's nest with soothing pheromones.
And it always helped John sleep, though he hated to admit. He didn't exactly like having to rely on an alpha; they'd never done him any good before, and he was at war with his insecurities whispering that they didn't like him, they pitied him, and he was too weak, that's why he needed them; he was a burden.
But then the soothing pheromones and the protect-safe-mine would wipe any thoughts clean from his head as it was practically melted into his glands and overwhelmed his brain, so unused to scenting as he was.
(Maybe being in a pack wasn't so bad after all...)
Even the Safe House was going well. John wasn't sure what the other students were thinking as he always entered with one of his packmates, but they started greeting him - if not a little fearful and submissive at first. He calmly nodded in response, but didn't really bother doing much else.
He was there because of his packmates. Other people's pheromones still agitated him, still messed with his head and made him want to claw his scent glands out.
(Blyke was always quick to notice and swipe a wrist over his head. Isen usually noticed too, and gave him a low, soothing rumble only audible to those sitting directly next to them. Remi would give his hand a squeeze and quickly release her pheromones to cover anyone else's in the vicinity. By the end of lunch, John was always thoroughly covered in their three scents, smelling like an odd combination of freshly cut pinewood, crispy chicken and lemon meringue.)
The problem soon arose when he noticed Seraphina started acting weird again. She didn't seem to notice the additional pheromones from him; her own were still unstable and her sensitivity seemed very dulled since she lost her abilities. Even getting them back temporarily didn't fix her pheromone situation, and it was sort of messing with John's head a little every time he smelt the unusual murky scent. Her pheromones, when she rarely released them, used to smell like a clear, fresh running river.
Now it agitated his inner omega with wrongwrongwrong scent and he wanted to scratch at his glands with the distress it was causing him.
(He wouldn't admit it, but he wasn't exactly quite in tune with his extreme omega instincts yet. It made it all the more difficult to understand how he should act, what he should do, what was normal.)
But despite that, he still cared for her. She was his best friend, and even without a bond, he'd seen her as somewhat of a packmate. So when she started acting weird, clearly hiding something important from him, it hurt. She didn't trust him.
Sure, he had been a mess not that long ago. Sure, he was still trying to get better. But that didn't mean he wasn't there for her, too. That he couldn't help her in any way possible.
His new packmates were quick to sense his growing anxiety and tried to soothe him, which helped, but didn't fix it.
And then she must've caught wind that he was spending more time with the Royals, which as far as she'd known, they weren't even on speaking terms.
"What's going on with you, Remi, Blyke and Isen?" Sera asked, confronting him about it on the rooftop on a rare occasion she was free and he wasn't hanging with his pack.
John hesitated, then raised an eyebrow at her. "I could say the same with you. You're so busy all the time, it's like you're not even here."
Sera glanced away from him, shrugging. "Well, you know. Safe House stuff..."
John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course."
(He ignored the pang in his chest.)
Their conversation somewhat strayed after that. Nothing was resolved, and the anxiety only bubbled and grew in his chest.
Then he caught Sera talking in private with Arlo, of all people.
John's instincts spiked. Last time he'd felt this familiar terror-betrayal-fury, he'd switched his brain off and come back to his senses after pummeling every royal in the school to the ground in one go.
He swallowed the rising stress, the doubt, the fear...and lunged after Arlo to demand an explanation.
An explanation Arlo did not give.
"Ask her yourself," Arlo said, pheromones puffing in irritation.
John went back to his packmates, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. His omega was screaming about being able to still smell those hostile alpha pheromones...he shoved the thought to the back of his head and found himself almost stumbling over to where Blyke was arguing loudly with Isen.
As soon as he neared, Blyke turned and pulled him in for a hug, argument long forgotten. Isen sat down and pulled the omega from Blyke's arms into his lap, rumbling quietly. John pressed his ear against the larger boy's chest, listening to the soothing sound and feeling it vibrate through his head.
Remi crooned in reassurance, and John whined softly. He couldn't accept reassurance.
(He wasn't good enough.)
Blyke chuffed at him in an alpha's version of an omegan croon, and Remi backed it up with another croon.
John huffed, pressing his face into Isen harder.
"You're gonna dint my collarbone with your nose," Isen murmured with a chuckle.
John chose to ignore him, closed his eyes, and let his instincts be soothed by his packmates' pheromones overwhelming him.
Perhaps it was this sort of situation that gave him away. Perhaps it was the repeated occurrences after that of John acting particularly clingy, or of the alphas being particularly protective over him that it started to click in people's minds.
Whatever the case, someone said something and everyone started repeating it like monkeys. Eventually, the whole school was starting to buzz with the rumour.
"John is an omega."
"The Joker fiasco was actually just a feral state."
"We have a Prime Dominant omega in school."
Somehow, it took far longer than John feared it would for such murmurings to get back to Sera.
The moment it did, though, his phone was buzzing on the coffee table as he was surrounded by his packmates throwing popcorn at each other while watching some dumb movie Isen had found.
John had been pleasantly drifting in his daze of freely flowing pheromones. Doc had ordered him to release his own pheromones regularly, and receive his packmates' pheromones in large doses just as regularly. Apparently, receiving regular pheromone showers would help ease his stress response to external pheromones. Which meant they started having daily movie nights after doing their homework together, where they all freely released as many pheromones as they could. It kind of choked the room up, in all honesty, but it sent John's brain in a spin and he generally missed out on the entire movie just lying there, half-conscious, omega instincts floating on a cloud of cotton.
He was practically lying directly on top of Isen, with Remi somehow curled into his side and Blyke's arm slung around her shoulders. Isen held one bucket of popcorn, Blyke the other, and Remi alternated from stealing from either of theirs and feeding a very, very not-present John like one would feed a hamster.
His phone buzzed insistently, but was ignored for the most part.
Then it buzzed again.
Blyke shifted to free his arm from under Remi and reached for it while licking his popcorn-flavoured fingers clean.
"Oh," he said, fumbling the phone. It dropped onto Remi's leg and she jolted, picking it up and looking at it.
Isen peeked over at the screen too.
He swore.
"What do we do?" Blyke asked, pheromones spiking in momentary panic.
John twitched at the sudden smell, a confused warble escaping his throat.
Remi crooned comfortingly and swiped a it's okay-distracted-packmates here wrist over John's neck. John settled again, breaths huffing evenly and eyes sliding shut.
"If we pick up for him, she'll probably march right over and attack us," Isen said.
"But if we don't answer, she'll probably march over anyway and kick the door down!" Blyke argued.
"And it's not like John's in any state to answer," Remi agreed.
Isen huffed, John rising and falling on his chest.
"Okay, okay. Then what do you propose? Answer and get asked a million -"
There was a loud banging. The trio fell silent, exchanging wide-eyed looks at each other.
John was still blissfully pheromone drunk and unaware at whatever was going on around him.
"Okay, so...too late," Isen whispered, shifting nervously. It earnt him a whine from the very content omega on top of him.
"Quick, act like we're not here!" Blyke whispered.
"Are you serious right now? She can probably smell the pheromones through the door!"
"Someone answer the door! She'll kick it down if you don't -"
"John!" Seraphina's voice yelled from the hallway. "Open up! I know you're in there."
Blyke, Remi and Isen exchanged glances.
Blyke swore. "Do we have a plan?"
"What sort of plan are you expecting?" Isen snapped.
"I don't know! Anything to keep my face intact, thank you very much!"
"How about you jump out the window then? That might give you a better chance."
"But what about John? He's in no condition to go anywhere," Remi interrupted.
"More than that, Seraphina doesn't know John's an omega, right? And with all the rumours flying around the school, maybe she heard and wanted to confront him about it." Isen brushed a hand through said omega's fluffy hair, earning a dopey chirp.
All three blinked in surprise.
"That was adorable!" Remi cried.
"Hey, let me try -"
"Back off, pinecone! You had him last night! It's my turn -"
"Wait, guys! Stop fighting, we didn't -"
The door exploded open with a deafening slam that made all three snap their mouths shut.
John didn't even flinch, still far too content with the cuddles.
"Seraphina!" Remi greeted cheerfully, getting to her feet.
Said grapefruit-haired girl stepped into the dorm, eyes flicked around the room and observing the extremely incriminating evidence: the movie on the television, paused midway; popcorn, scattered around the room from the boys throwing it at each other; John's phone, left behind in the nest as they'd all ignored it. Not even mentioning the raven-haired boy curled up on top of Isen, who looked about ready to kidnap the boy and run for his life.
Seraphina gave a pointed sniff at the overflowing mix of pheromones; Blyke's freshly-cut pinewood pheromones were taking on a bit of a burnt smell in his nervousness, Isen's crispy chicken pheromones starting to smell a bit more on the spicy side, and Remi's lemon meringue pheromones were bursting with the lemon.
The toasting marshmallow pheromones, however, were entirely just as sweet as they had been the whole night, as cozy as a campfire.
"What's wrong with him?" Seraphina snapped, eyes fixed with a dangerous intensity on Isen's arms wrapped protectively around the blissfully unaware John.
Remi and Blyke shared a silent conversation with their eyes as Isen tightened his grip.
How much should they tell her?
Sure, John was best friends with her, but there had to be a reason he hadn't told her anything.
Right?
(In hindsight, they probably should've taken into account that an unstable omega was most certainly suffering from some severe self-worth issues, and such anxieties made it hard to come clean about even the simplest things.)
"He's pheromone-drunk," Isen helpfully interrupted.
Sera's eyes narrowed sharply. "He's what? Nobody our age gets pheromone-drunk -"
"He's never been in a pack before," Remi said carefully.
Seraphina stopped in her tracks, staring in thoughtful silence at each person in the room.
Then she took a deep breath and turned to reset the door. Once it was shut, she went over to the couch and dropped down on it cross-legged, grabbing Blyke's bucket of popcorn.
"Tell me everything, from the beginning, and if you dare to leave anything out, I'm going to plant sewing needles in your mattresses."
They told her everything.
*****
It wasn't long before Seraphina bonded with John too, after that, though she wasn't a part of the other three's pack so her bite mark was right next to theirs on his neck.
"I still can't believe you didn't tell me," Sera grumbled as the two sat on the rooftop, Sera releasing her somewhat unstable pheromones.
John found that now they were bonded, the instability wasn't setting him off anymore. If anything, it made his own pheromones release in an attempt to help regulate hers.
"Sorry," John apologised for the umpteenth time that day.
"You know what this means, right?"
"You're invited to our pack cuddles at night?"
"You bet," Seraphina nodded solemnly. "But also, you're going to end up without your entire pack for three days while we go on our Safe House trip. Are you seriously okay with that?"
"Well..." John hesitated. Both Isen and Remi had offered for him to go too, and Blyke had even tried to convince him.
What made him so hesitant was that something was still going on with Sera and he didn't know whether going would be better or worse for her.
On one hand, he could go and keep an eye on her; on the other, wouldn't he just be a burden now that she knew he was (weak) an omega? They were packmates now, after all, and as an alpha she probably instinctively thought it was her duty to protect him.
(He wanted someone to protect him, but he hated the thought that it proved he was weak -)
The Safe House trip was due that weekend. He had two days to figure it out, sign up, and pack, and then they'd be off on Friday afternoon. So technically, one full twenty-four hours.
John grimaced and wiped a hand over his face.
"You know, most of the people in the Safe House are kinda starting to get used to you," Sera hummed almost absent-mindedly.
John jolted, peering over at her. "Really?" He swallowed at how hopeful he'd sounded at that.
"Yeah. Not only that, but those three Royals really, really want you to go."
John clunked his head back against the low wall of the rooftop and sighed heavily.
"I know."
*****
One day later, and pretty usual for Wellston, a lot had gone down.
John had confronted Sera about whatever was going on with her. She'd deflected at first, of course, but he'd been persistent enough that she'd eventually cracked - just a bit. He'd gotten the rest from Arlo, surprisingly enough, and even more surprising was the soft and understanding pheromones emitting faintly from the Prime alpha. (His inner omega had been growling the entire time, and it had taken a lot to keep his pheromones - and himself - in check.)
One conversation with Sera later, and he'd signed up for the Safe House retreat, much to his packmate's glee.
Sera hadn't been very happy. She'd tried to convince him out of it, but only very half-heartedly because she seemed to understand he needed his pack more than anything else right now.
So he'd packed (with Blyke's not-very-helpful help) and now it was time to board the bus and everybody (else) in the Safe House was kind of staring at him in a mix of curiosity (like he was some zoo animal) and fear (fair).
For some reason, his inner omega was getting particularly on edge at the attention, and the overload of unfamiliar and unsafe pheromones had him itching at his glands.
Isen and Blyke had tried their best to soothe him, but they were very busy trying to pack everyone's luggage into the bottom of the bus. He'd at first been helping too, but the overload of pheromones coating everyone's bags was even worse and he'd found himself growling and snapping at anything and everything. (His alphas had quickly sent him off to a less-crowded area.)
He needed...something else. Something a little more...strong.
Seraphina was helping Remi sort through the last details and making sure everyone that was supposed to be there was there, and that there were no unwanted guests trying to sneak in.
John fidgeted, reaching up to scratch at his glands again.
A hand stopped him. He whirled around, eyes flashing bright gold, only to meet steady blue.
"You'll hurt yourself if you keep doing that," Arlo simply stated.
John yanked his hand out of the alpha's grip, shooting a panicked look over at his alphas - Sera was on the bus, chatting with the driver; Blyke and Isen were arguing about how to Tetris a bag without breaking its contents.
Nobody was available, and nobody could help -
Who was he kidding? He wasn't some helpless princess, unable to protect himself. He didn't need his pack. He could defend himself -
He didn't realise he was growling until Arlo rumbled, the sound surprising him enough that he stopped. John blinked, stared at Arlo with wide eyes. The older boy looked as calm and stoic as ever, face a blank mask.
But his eyes were...soft, almost. Watching, waiting, but careful.
A waft of pheromones hit John, masking the mess of everyone else's entirely. John's omega instincts stuttered, suddenly not so sure whether to accept the safe-soothing-calm Prime Dominant alpha pheromones or not.
But as John flailed, uncertain, he noticed his agitation settling. His glands weren't so itchy anymore, he thought.
It was almost a breath of fresh air. Arlo's pheromones smelt like a cool breeze through a field of grass, the scent of an old oak tree swaying gently in the wind.
John felt his shoulders relaxing and he reluctantly shifted slightly closer to the blonde's pheromones.
Arlo didn't seem to care, either. Just let them waft in the small surrounding, just enough to cover John in a protective barrier much like Arlo's ability.
"All aboard!" Isen's voice interrupted the odd peace and there was a resounding cheer from everyone from the Safe House as they lined up like an ant trail to clamour onto the bus.
John figured he'd wait for everybody else to find their seats. It was probably best he sat near the front, anyway, though he would have preferred to sit next to one of his packmates.
"John!" Blyke called, rushing over. He sniffed the air as he reached them and then yellow eyes narrowed at Arlo.
"What are you doing?"
"The smell of everyone else is a bit much," Arlo said, completely unbothered by Blyke's sudden burst of aggressive-possessive pheromones.
"He's not your pack."
Arlo grit his teeth and shrugged. "You weren't doing a very good job keeping him comfortable."
John cleared his throat, shooting Arlo a glare in defense of his alpha. "They're doing a fine job. They were just busy."
Arlo stared at him with that expressionless face and seemed to be mulling over whether to respond or not.
He must have deemed it not worth the trouble because he turned away and shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets.
He didn't retract his pheromones, though.
Blyke turned back to John, trying to overpower the higher-ranked alpha. He ran a wrist over John's neck and gave him a bright smile when John purred in response.
"Wanna sit with me?"
John raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yeah. Isen, Remi and I all did rock-paper-scissors and I won."
There was an amused huff from the blonde not included in this conversation but happily eavesdropping anyway.
"You're not going to sit at the back, are you? I get motion sick." He didn't, but it was better than admitting he was likely to blow up the bus if he sat at the back due to a being caged in with everyone's pheromones.
"Remi already reserved the front two rows for us. Seraphina's sitting with that omega chick with the pigtails at the front, too."
John easily enough agreed. Surrounded by pack at the front of the bus, where the door was right in front of him and the mass of overbearing pheromones would be behind him, he was sure he could manage the four-hour trip fine.
They boarded after the rest of the students, Arlo following behind. John was far too aware of him as Arlo plopped down in the pair of seats across the aisle from him.
Isen leaned forward from where he sat between the window and Remi and wriggled an arm around the headrest to wipe a wrist over John's cheek.
John snapped his fangs at him in mock annoyance.
Isen laughed. "Sorry, can't reach anything else."
"Doesn't mean you go wiping your chicken pheromones all over his face!" Blyke cried indignantly.
"You'll make me smell like I just ate KFC," John agreed.
Remi laughed from where she sat behind Blyke. "He's not that flexible."
"Considering your abilities, you'd think flexibility would be part of that -" Blyke started.
Isen smacked the back of his hand - still reaching around the headrest - into the red-head's nose.
The trip started to Blyke's squawk of protest, Remi's tired sigh, and Isen's maniacal laughter.
John leaned his forehead against the window and closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as his pack's pheromones encompassed him in a soft blanket of familiarity and comfort.
(And from across the isle, if those very controlled cool breeze pheromones targeting him specifically were just as soothing, he'd never let on.)
*****
For some odd reason, two people to a room was promptly thrown out the window when it came to theirs. Isen explained that the last-minute additions had to be thrown in the rooms already booked.
John wouldn't have really minded being in the same room as Blyke and Isen.
It was the other surprise forth member who opened the door to their room with a suitcase trundling behind him, looking up from the slip of paper stating the room number in clear, big black letters, as the other members were arguing over the beds.
"No way," John breathed.
Isen winced. "Oh yeah, that was a thing."
"A 'thing' you failed to tell us," Blyke griped, elbowing Isen in the ribs.
"Who came up with the idea to make four people share a room?" John sighed.
Arlo, who had stopped just in front of the door he'd closed behind him, also sighed heavily.
"I don't particularly find this situation desirable either, but it's only for a couple nights."
"Tell you what, Blyke can share a bed with Arlo and I'll share with John."
"No way!" Blyke growled. "I'll take John, you can take the floor."
Arlo pinched the bridge of his nose as John ignored his two alphas to chuck his pillow on a bed. He flopped down, propping his head up with a hand as he observed the situation.
It was a bit odd when he thought about it. Objectively, it was an omega sharing a room with three alphas.
He supposed it was fine that two were his pack, but the third?
The third was the strongest, highest-ranked alpha in the entire school.
(Some part of John kind of ached for that, an alpha stronger than himself, but he pushed that niggling feeling down and locked it away into a tiny box to be forever ignored. He had alphas now. He had three, in fact, and two were dominants, so he should've been satisfied with that.)
Blyke's pheromones flared in the usual competitive challenge at Isen, who responded in kind until the room started smelling like chicken cooking over a pinewood fire.
John felt a strange throb in his chest and squinted as his vision blurred for a moment. His own pheromones flared for a second, something especially sweet about the toasted marshmallows. He absentmindedly sat up and pulled the blanket underneath him to the side of the bed, folding it carefully yet without much thought.
He stood up and fumbled through his suitcase - for some reason, he'd been inclined to pack pieces of clothing he'd stolen from his packmates. He was especially glad about that now, as he weaved them around the inside of the curled blanket edge. When he was satisfied, he curled into a small ball and hugged his pillow to his chest.
His mind was going a bit foggy. He wasn't certain why, but he peered over the edge of the blanket wall and glanced at his alphas. Still arguing, of course. Especially loud. Why were they not coming over?
His vision was suddenly blocked by a wall of a person. Intense blue eyes gazed down at him in something like concern. A small, careful release of pheromones, a hand reaching down to push the hair matted to his forehead - and when had he gotten so hot? - out of the way. It was a cool hand, soothing that fiery feeling burning his brain. He closed his eyes and pressed further into said hand, a soft purr sighing from his throat.
Those pheromones - he'd smelt them just earlier. They'd been nice earlier. His omega remembered the soothing scent, the solid, steady, strong alpha behind the pheromones. Yes, he liked that. He wanted - no, needed.
He chirped, and his noisy alphas suddenly went silent. Good, now they would listen. He chirped again, more insistently, hazy eyes rolling up to examine that wall of an alpha still leaning over him. Those blue eyes were scrunched, blonde eyebrows furrowed. Prime alpha said something. One of his alphas responded in an urgent tone, and their arguing voices steadily rose.
Prime growled. Prime was not happy, and Dominant and Recessive had upset Prime, and he needed his alphas and he wanted Prime to be happy and why was nobody coming into his nest -
He keened. Loudly. The Prime Dominant alpha jolted from where he stood, eyes snapping back to him. He chirped, getting a little panicked now - were his alphas rejecting him? Nobody was moving.
Prime leaned down and carefully extended a wrist. He grabbed the wrist and tugged insistently. Of course Prime was allowed in his nest. Where else was Prime supposed to go if not his nest? Yes, he'd made it in his rush, and no, he couldn't feel a bond for Prime - yet! He liked Prime though. Prime had nice pheromones. Prime was inherently safe, his omega instincts screamed. He couldn't ignore such facts, and such a strong, safe alpha should obviously be part of his pack.
Prime toppled awkwardly forward as he tugged on the offered wrist. He swiped his own wrist over Prime's scent glands, encouraging the alpha to properly climb into his nest.
When Prime finally moved, he purred loudly, shuffling as much as his heavy, uncoordinated body allowed him to.
Prime shifted to get comfortable and reached out to pull him into Prime's arms. A wave of pheromones erupted, mingling with sickly sweet toasted marshmallows, and before he could fully settle, sharp teeth sank into his neck.
*****
"He's in heat," Arlo said. He had his hand pressed to John's burning forehead. Said omega purred quietly at the contact.
Said omega had somehow made a makeshift nest in the few minutes Blyke and Isen had been arguing, and had dropped entirely into heat without anybody noticing.
"He just went through a heat two weeks ago," Blyke recalled, concern rising up.
"We need to call someone -" Isen started, making a move toward the door.
"No, wait," Blyke grabbed Isen's wrist. "He's still unstable, he's just formed a pack, and two of the three alphas he's bonded with are here. We can take care of him."
"Are you serious? Last time he almost died!"
"Last time he had no bonds and was dying of pack sickness!"
"He what?" Arlo interrupted, low growl in his throat.
Both alphas automatically bared their necks in response to the Prime Dominant growl, but were quickly distracted by the loud keen from the rushed nest John had made.
Arlo jolted, alpha instincts immediately flaring at the pheromones John released - panic-need pack-please. He leaned down and reached toward John, offering his wrist. John's eyes were so unfocused, Arlo wasn't sure the boy would even see him.
John still responded. He reached out with a shaky hand and tugged very feebly at Arlo's wrist. Despite how weak the omega was, it was still firm enough to make Arlo fall forward slightly.
"I'm gonna go call Remi and Sera," Isen murmured.
"Should we call Doc or something?" Blyke asked.
"I doubt he would be able to do anything from school. And it seems like it's a normal heat anyway. I'm not smelling anything abnormal about his pheromones."
Arlo carefully climbed into John's nest, pheromones clouding his mind a little. He'd smelt an omega's heat pheromones before, but this was far more overpowering than anything he'd ever encountered. Even other alphas had never had so much sway on his instincts or rationality.
"Tell Remi to bring some more nesting materials if she can," Blyke called to Isen as he left the room for a moment.
"Might have to contact reception -" Isen's voice trailed off as the door clicked shut.
Arlo shifted on the bed to get comfortable, then reached out and pulled John into his lap. From such close proximity, the omega's pheromones were all he could smell and it was starting to drive him a little crazy.
"Hey," a warning growl came from Blyke, whose eyes were glowing slightly from his own alpha instincts giving in. "Omega's ours."
Arlo couldn't quite choke down the responding growl, not quite understanding Blyke's words but certainly understanding the intent.
No, Blyke wouldn't take John from him. The Prime Dominant omega was his now. He wouldn't allow a recessive to steal him away -
Before he could think further, he latched onto John's neck and bit down hard. Blood bloomed slightly below a single bite next to a layered three bites, but the bond snapped in place with a full-body spasm from John and a choked whimper. His pheromones flared as he dropped further into heat, and Arlo released after the tang of blood was all he could taste. He licked the bite mark possessively, pleased with himself.
A howl and a fist to his face knocked him out of his short-lived satisfaction. John was completely under now, eyes rolled into his head and body entirely limp, yet purring nonetheless.
Arlo's eyes brightened and a glowing barrier appeared around him and the omega in his arms as Blyke tried to reach forward to pry John out of Arlo's arms, a beam shooting from his hand aiming for Arlo's head. Arlo growled, a ferocious sound that had the recessive quaking from where he sat, but it wasn't enough for Blyke - who perceived Arlo as a threat to his packmate - to power down.
Arlo snapped at Blyke a little more fiercely. The omega was his now, and nothing would hurt him as long as Arlo was around.
Blyke hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking down to John. Arlo growled again at the motion. Blyke looked back up, still shaking in instinctual submission. His weaker pheromones were completely overpowered by the threatening stormy wind pheromones emanating from Arlo, but they were releasing on a larger scale than the Prime's.
"Okay, Remi's on her way -" Isen's voice interrupted as the door swung open.
He stopped in the doorway as a face full of Prime Dominant omega-in-heat, Prime Dominant alpha-in-rut, and Recessive alpha-in-protective-mode pheromones smashed his rationality straight out the window.
He managed to swear before the door slammed shut and his instincts took the wheel.
*****
The Safe House trip ended up far more eventful than any of them had expected, especially John.
After going into a full-blown heat on the first night, he'd spent the entire following day with his packmates in a makeshift nest Remi had helped him fix up. Something had supposedly gone down with Sera; she'd disappeared sometime in the late morning, but she'd come back by the afternoon so it had been fine. The rest of the Safe House students had been a little lost on what to do, so Remi had ordered two groups to choose a leader amongst themselves and gave the hiking group a map (something was suspicious about the sheer lack of students wanting to join that one) and the tour group a list of sightseeing places they could try and tick off.
With John very much pheromone drunk and in the haze and instinctual submission of heat, the three Royals fluttered around to get everything sorted out while still providing him the care necessary to get a Prime (and very clingy) omega through heat.
However, they soon realised they didn't really need to do all that much except provide their own pheromones and give him the occasional scenting - once the alphas had come to their senses, of course - because Arlo had gone into a full-blown rut at the same time.
Arlo was the type of alpha that was incredibly possessive, surprisingly clingy, and overly protective all at the same time. It made it hard to get a cuddle in with John for the rest of them - especially the alphas - until Arlo did his obsessive prowl around the room, scentmarking everything that his alpha brain deemed even slightly a threat.
(Blyke usually stole this time for full-body blanketing a very happy omega. Isen merely got a few head pats in before Arlo came back and yanked Blyke off with a growl, grabbing John and hauling him up to curl the omega in his arms in a way nobody else seemed to be able to reach. If anyone tried, they got a growl and a snap of the teeth in response.)
Basically, the entire weekend ended with John still in heat, all the top-tiers of Wellston staying in a nest together, and Arlo somehow becoming a part of the pack - especially after Remi realised the only bonds Arlo had were with his alpha parents, (parental bonds weren't bite marks on the neck, they were small nips at either wrist scent gland made at birth and faded over time in order to keep the neck free for choosing packmates later in life) and John's. That lead to Isen, Blyke and Remi basically forcing Arlo into their pack, and for some reason the two alphas happily gave up the head alpha position to the newest member.
So Arlo not only joined their pack, gained four new bonds over the span of a few days, with all the Royals of Wellston - former and current, but he had also become the Head Alpha of said pack, which turned out (perhaps unsurprisingly) fitting for the already-a-good-leader Prime Dominant alpha.
It took another few days of camping out in the big nest in Blyke and John's shared dorm space (now dubbed the official Pack Nest) with varying packmates (who could skip school, but sometimes chose not to depending on which classes they had) for John's heat to finally subside. Arlo's rut had subsided on Monday, two days ago, but post-rut symptoms were strong for Prime Dominant alphas apparently and he spent the entire next two days with John, acting just as possessive and protective as when he'd been in rut. (Just, without the constant instinctive noises and fever.)
John returned to school - after some convincing of pretty much all his overprotective packmates that yes, he was fine, post-heat was basically non-existent apart from the slightly higher sensitivity to pheromones, and they all compromised by allowing him to leave the nest as long as he received a pheromone shower by at least two if not all of them between each period - smelling like a good weekend camping in the woods.
Everyone, especially alphas, seemed to avoid him at all costs by how pungent his packmate's protect-stay away-mine pheromones must have been.
After everything settled back into rhythm, and a couple more weeks passed, John started to notice some things. The more time he spent with his packmates, the more he discovered just how odd his alphas were.
Starting with his recessive roommate, whom he spent a good majority of his time with.
Blyke was a little hot-headed, his temper as fiery as his hair and his control over his pheromones as lacking as his self-control.
Which led to a lot - and John would like to emphasize, a lot - of pheromone showers.
Like, basically as soon as Blyke ever spotted John, no matter how far away, the recessive would immediately release as many pheromones as possible in an attempt to drown the omega - and anyone within a twenty-metre-radius - in the smell of a pine forest.
(John would like to reaffirm that he does not like this. Ignore that little purr, that totally wasn't from him -)
Blyke was also extremely clingy. Which, sure, pretty much all of John's pack seemed to like some sort of physical contact and exchange of pheromones.
Blyke liked to take it to a whole new level, though. Even when the two boys would be in the middle of an argument, or turning their biggest faults into as witty an insult as possible, John would find the boy almost absent-mindedly reaching out to rub a wrist over his head, neck, or back. Or just cuddling. All the time. In fact, Blyke was kind of like a leech half the time, especially if John was in no hurry to stand up or walk around. Blyke would just cling to John's back, side, front - any place that was free, sometimes wrapping both arms and legs around John's waist in an attempt to properly imitate a koala, and would not let go for hours.
Other times, when John was walking around, it would be an arm slung over his shoulders. Being the same height made it a bit awkward, but Blyke never seemed to mind. If he ever noticed at all, that was.
Much like Blyke, Isen loved to argue too. Though John was particularly intrigued when he realised that Isen did not like to argue with omegas. Including - if not especially - John.
Isen almost blatantly went out of his way to not argue with John. Any little grumble or snippy comment John made, as he did so often, was practically treated like it was gospel by Isen. He was treated with so much respect, he didn't even know how to take it.
Isen also liked to cuddle, too. Much like Blyke, if John was stationary for two minutes, it meant it was time for cuddles. Unlike Blyke, Isen was a lot more domineering. If John was sitting down doing homework, he would soon find himself in the taller alpha's lap. The new Jack of Wellston preferred to hug from behind John, and his hugs came with a cloud of crispy chicken pheromones. Isen used his pheromones in a lot more of a controlled manner than Blyke; he only released them for John, not for the whole classroom. Of course, he wasn't hesitant to rub a wrist over John's neck whenever he possibly could - in passing, this was becoming their general greeting.
Isen was more of a calm alpha, to John's surprise. The taller boy really only ever got riled up when it came to Blyke, and they had recently decided their most common rivalry was with who John preferred.
(Whose pheromones smelt better, who could shower John with said pheromones more, who soothed John's stress faster, who cuddled better, who did this better and that better and honestly John was kind of getting sick of it...)
While the two argued non-stop whenever around each other - which was pretty much all the time, John had no idea how they could be best friends - John found their pheromones were never actually agitated. The two alphas may butt heads every time they were in hearing vicinity of each other, but they weren't ever angry. If anything, soothing pheromones would combine to create an almost overwhelming blanket of protection, and John found himself almost enjoying being in the two alphas' presence.
(He would deny it until he died, however, because they were still incredibly loud and annoying, and he would never stop complaining about that fact.)
Sera, of course, was as calming in both presence and personality as ever. Her bond constantly hummed with a steadiness John trusted his life with, and her freshwater pheromones were as relaxing as a picnic by the lakeside, even as unstable as they were. Sera wasn't the most cuddly or physically affectionate alpha, but she certainly had her moments when it came to John. Perhaps her inner alpha was just that more alert when it sensed an unstable omega packmate around, but whatever the case, it often resulted in some sort of physical contact with him. She didn't usually go for cuddles unless he was particularly stressed, or unless he initiated first - he tended to do that when he was either pheromone-drunk or tired, though he claimed to have no memory of ever doing so afterwards - but she did like to lean into him, rubbed her wrist over his neck, or hold hands with him to press their wrists together. It always filled him with an odd sense of gratitude whenever she did that - it was like, despite having seen him at all of his worst moments, and despite knowing all his deepest, darkest secrets, she didn't care. She was still content to hold hands and not only scent him, but receive his scent too.
It settled something deep in his mind, a tingling memory of a green-haired girl with pigtails whispering a word that had stuck to him for so long, haunting his every action. The simple action of holding hands soothed that ache, silenced that haunting taunt. Nobody would hold hands with a monster, after all.
Much to John's surprise, Sera wasn't the only soothing alpha. Of course, technically, all his alphas soothed him. They stabilised his pheromones, which in turn stabilised his hormones and mental state.
But Blyke and Isen also annoyed him. They were worming their way into his heart, and their bonds into his very soul, but they were annoying and he liked getting a little riled up at them, and riling them up. They argued, they bickered. They all had their contrasting personalities and clashing egos.
Sera was like a calming, still lake in comparison. She was a soothing balm amidst the chaos the Wellston Royal alphas brought on.
Arlo, however, was a solid rock. Being the only Prime Dominant alpha in the school, and the pack's head alpha, his pheromones were the most overpowering - and also the most controlled. He was a stoic person to begin with, but after bonding, John soon found he practically went running to the alpha whenever his stress starting flaring up. The alpha was like this impenetrable wall, a literal shield of protection that no worries - or pheromones - could ever reach him when he was with the alpha.
Arlo's bond constantly hummed in the back of his mind, a presence so welcome and so needed. John hadn't realised just how much he needed a Prime Dominant alpha's pheromones. He never would have guessed he needed Arlo, in particular, either.
It came down to some startling discoveries by everyone around them. The first being that Arlo was not averse to physical contact, especially cuddling. John found it almost impossible not to initiate contact first whenever he spotted or sensed the alpha nearby. Unlike his other packmates who were more than eager to scent him first, Arlo waited for John's permission. And John's inner omega craved that, on a level he would never quite understand. But Arlo was more than happy to give out physical contact or pheromones. John just found himself jumping in first.
The first time John had initiated, when his pre-heat had struck again a whole month later - and that said something, because monthly heats were actually normal and he'd never been able to regulate or predict his heat before, sometimes arriving in as long as three months or as short as three days - it had not only surprised both Arlo and John himself, but had stunned the entire Safe House into complete silence.
It had started as a sort of normal day; he and Blyke had walked from the dorms together, met up with Isen and Remi along the way, and then John had ditched them all when they were distracted to go find Sera.
Perhaps it was because he hadn't been able to find Sera that morning. Perhaps that had disrupted his routine enough to jar him a little.
Whatever the case, he'd plodded to his first class and found himself zoning out a little more often that usual.
It was during his second class that he'd realised something was off. He wasn't able to focus properly. He kept scratching at his scent glands, the pheromones of alphas and omegas around him feeling a little too suffocating, a little too overbearing.
When it really hit him, the sudden wave of severe stress, he dug his fingernails into his neck glands and subconsciously yanked at the alpha bonds in his mind. Even Remi's omega bond caught backlash from his panicked instincts.
Blyke and Isen's bonds flared in surprise and concern. Sera's immediately sent a pulse of calm-soothing-here in response.
And Arlo's hummed, consistently, with a steady, unfaltering presence for the rest of the lesson.
By the time lunch came around, John was fairly certain he was in pre-heat. The stench of non-pack was becoming enough to make him growl at anyone who drew near, even when they were a beta. Students gave him a wide berth as he stalked through the halls, fists clenched tight in his pockets in an attempt to keep himself in check. His scent glands itched; his pheromones threatened to explode. He made a beeline for the Safe House, knowing at least one of his pack members would no doubt already be there.
When he slammed the door open, most students jumped.
He ignored everyone as his eyes honed in on the blonde alpha standing, unfazed by the noise of the door, with his back to him. He was talking with a blue-haired boy who was watching John with an odd look.
Recessive alpha, John's omega brain helpfully deduced.
He squashed down the growl and didn't bother closing the door behind him. He just headed straight for his alpha, pulling his hands out of his pockets and colliding head-first into Arlo's back.
Arlo chuffed in question, turning slightly as John locked his arms around the taller boy's waist and fisted his shirt.
"John," Arlo hummed, mid-conversation. He released a controlled shower of pheromones to cover John's glands only, but it was strong enough to entirely block out everyone else's in the entire classroom.
John practically slumped. Arlo reached behind him and pulled John in front, then sat down with the omega perched on his lap. John squished his nose into Arlo's neck, inhaling deeply and sighing. When he went boneless, Arlo simply held him a little tighter and rumbled. A hand rubbed his scent glands on the back of John's neck - just enough pressure to cause instant submission, but gentle enough to be welcoming and comforting. Arlo's thumb kept skimming over the bite marks, sending John's inner omega reeling. It felt good.
Arlo was like a lone mansion sitting on a hill in the middle of the countryside, completely separated from the world. He was a backyard with a little garden filled with flowering fruits and wafting herbs. He was an oak tree, alone in a field, providing shade to the flock of sheep grazing below without a care in the world.
John purred like a helicopter.
The Safe House was silent, staring at the pair. The boy Arlo had been chatting to was silent, staring at the pair. The kids in the hallway outside the still-open door who had seen John march past a moment ago were stopped in their tracks, completely silent, and staring inside at the pair.
Arlo glanced up at the boy he'd been talking with.
"What were you saying?" He asked, running a hand absentmindedly through his omega's hair.
"Uh..." the boy stammered, watching the motion with wide eyes. "I don't remember..."
Arlo raised an eyebrow. "Did you have anything more to say?"
The boy took the hint and turned away, creeping to a group on the other side of the room.
Everyone was still staring. Arlo sighed and addressed the room,
"If you have nothing better to do, I suggest you find something quickly."
The underlying threat was accentuated with a Prime Dominant alpha's warning growl.
Needless to say, the room quickly filled with the buzz of conversation, however hushed or forced, and the event quickly spread to the entire school.
It wasn't just the fact that of all people, Arlo and John were publicly showing affection, or that the two sole Prime Dominants and ex-Kings were capable of showing affection that had the school in an uproar; it was the fact that they were bonded to begin with.
It wasn't like they'd been trying to keep it a secret, but it certainly couldn't have been announced in a clearer way.
"Dude," Isen had griped Arlo about it later. "How come he went to you?"
Arlo had simply smirked that smug twitch of the lips that sent Isen into an infuriated tantrum.
It was John's mumbled comment, half-asleep, half-drunk on pheromones, and on the verge of dropping completely into heat, that set Isen off completely though:
"Maybe he's just better than you."
The nest of teens John was buried in went into a unified uproar from that.
*****
The end.