11. Jane

My first few steps outside are jarring, and not just because winter seems to have ambushed fall while I've been hiding in Bleak House. The campus swirls around me, bright and crisp, and the air is like tiny sparks in my lungs. It washes away the last traces of my omega perfume, but when I shiver, Law loops an arm over my shoulders. I'm instantly coated in his iron and mint scent, and I have to stop myself from nuzzling into his side. Inconspicuous is the aim, and pawing one of the most beautiful men on campus won't help me blend in.

Although, as we venture closer to the Academy buildings, I realize there are just as many dark looks as curious ones. The alphas wearing the cadet uniform glare at Travis, but only when his back is turned, saving their open sneers for Drew. He acts like it's nothing, but I can see a tiny pulse beating in his jaw as he strides along. The suspicious stares rest heaviest on me, no doubt trying to place me in the group. Some of the bolder alphas whisper filthy slurs, taking bets on whose knots I'm riding, and I have to stop myself from shrinking under Law's arm. He grips me tighter, calling out lazy greetings as they pass us by. They glower at him, but every single one gives him a sharp nod or a curt lift of their hand.

"Don't waste your energy," Drew murmurs. "Their minds are as microscopic as their balls."

"Got to remind them who's their lord and master," Law quips back cheerily, earning a smile from Drew and a grunt from Travis.

Students are everywhere, scurrying into the quad like ants across a picnic blanket. The residence halls sit on the banks of the Sanctuary River, but the academic buildings are spread across the valley, the hospital and Omega Center to the west, and the military compound to the east. The campus is like the elegant filling in a dreary sandwich, the lecture halls, library, and student center all built from a velvety red brick and draped in luscious green ivy. But there's no masking the scent of alpha, an iron assault on the senses. I quickly mute it, allowing only the specific notes of my companions to filter through. Citrus, mint, and pine needles. Like a summer punch bursting in my mouth.

But the warm glow fades as the other guys peel away, leaving me to mount the stairs to my first class with Law. It's the Designations & Dynamics building, and my heart quivers at the memory of the only other time I've been here. Before the dean approved my application to take the trauma management class, I had to come and meet with the head of the school. There were no warm words of welcome, no enthusiastic tour of the facilities. Just a stern-faced and disapproving alpha sitting behind his desk as he grudgingly signed my forms.

I haven't been back since, taking all my classes online from the Omega Center, but I can't stop the shiver down my spine as we pass the Head's office door.

"You doing okay?" Law asks quietly as we walk along the marble corridor. His arm slipped off my shoulder as we entered the building, and the loss of it hurts almost as bad as my shorn scalp.

"I'm fine," I murmur, relieved to see we've reached the lecture hall door. But the room is packed, every seat taken by an alpha, and I hang back, overwhelmed by the attention. But Law just sweeps us inside, a pair of students in the front row snatching up their books and retreating to the back. Law pulls the vacated chair out like we're dining in a fancy restaurant, and I sit, watching wide-eyed as he arranges himself behind the adjoining desk. He looks like a tiger draped over a sun-warmed rock, and I'm not at all surprised by the way those other students scurried off.

But the professor seems surprised to find us in the front row, stopping mid-stride as he enters the lecture hall. He's also an alpha, but he has a fussy look, with a silk scarf wrapped around his throat and topaz buttons on his military tunic. He glances at me, but then adjusts his glasses and openly ogles Law. "You've come to class, Mr. Michaelson! What an honor." I wait for the sarcastic scowl, but it doesn't appear. If anything, the professor looks flattered. "And who is your friend?"

I feel the press of dozens of eyes on the back of my flushed neck. But Law just turns and gives the room a warning look. "This is Cutter's cousin, Jack. He'll be staying at Bleak House for a while."

"I didn't get a notification…" The professor unwinds his scarf as he fiddles with his comm unit, huffing in surprise. "Ah, here it is. Jack Cutter." He looks at me over his glasses. "And are there any more of your kin lurking in the shadows?"

"If there are, you won't know it until we want you to."

I don't know where the words come from, but I manage to deliver the response in a cool voice, just this side of threatening. The professor visibly startles, his comm unit almost slipping from his hands, while Law leans over to grip the back of my neck. It would be a domineering gesture if his lips didn't brush my ear as he whispers, "You're the best kind of surprise, jack-in-the-box."

My mouth quirks at the silly nickname, but the professor glowers at me, then looks pointedly over my head. "Yes, well, we shouldn't waste any more time. Open your textbooks to chapter eighteen, gentlemen. We'll be covering omega heats today, and I want you on your best manners. This is scientific instruction, not fodder for your midnight fumbles."

The class chuckles, the scent of alpha pheromones thick in the air. I keep my eyes down as the professor places a textbook on Law's desk. He immediately gestures for me to move my chair closer, but the professor tuts and drops a stack of papers and a pencil in front of me. "Since you're a newcomer, Mr. Cutter, I will need to see where your knowledge is lacking. Please complete these anatomical diagrams to the best of your ability and I will mark them before the end of class."

I nod, unfazed by the sour edge to his scent. He clearly thinks the worksheets will be beyond me, but one glance and I'm confident I'll ace them. Anatomy, after all, is one of the core components of healer training, and I doubt anyone in the class has a better working knowledge of the body – including the stuffy professor.

"You alright with that, Jack?" Law asks under his breath, and I realize I've been staring blankly at a diagram of the circulatory system.

"Don't want to race through them and make the rest of the class look bad," I murmur back, and my heart expands at his snort of amusement.

But while the rest of the class read their chapter in silence, my pencil flies across the page. Body parts, systems, symptoms, and treatments all spill out. When I'm done, I realize I've made notes in the margins, expanding well beyond the simple labels the worksheets require.

"Mother mercy," Law whistles, pulling his chair closer, and I sit back with a start. He picks up the top sheet where I've outlined the evolution of endocrine systems and the role of these systems in the production of offspring. "You're like a walking textbook, Jack!"

"I just… I just like to read," I reply lamely.

"Well, maybe you can tutor me. This stuff goes in one ear and out the other. And no, I don't know if that's even anatomically possible."

I smirk at his joke, but our chatter has attracted the attention of the professor, who snatches the pile of worksheets off my desk. He flips through them, the sour note in his scent growing thicker, until he's blinking furiously at me through his glasses. "Is this some kind of joke?" He turns his glare on Law. "Did you give him your textbook to copy?"

"No, of course not!" Law says indignantly. "Jack did all the work himself."

"I seriously doubt that!" the professor blusters. "This is well past the level of a college student."

Law's expression goes blank, but his eyes are suddenly ice cold, like the surface of a frozen lake. "Are you calling me a liar, Professor Lindborg?"

The older man gulps, then strides over to his desk, my worksheets scrunched in his hand. He opens the top drawer and shoves them in. "No, but I find it highly unlikely that he completed this without help. Care to prove me wrong, Mr. Cutter?"

I'm kicking myself for making a scene, but I don't see how I can back down now. "Yes. Alright."

"Then up here, in front of the class." I cast Law a pleading look, but he just grins and I steel my spine as I get to my feet. It's only a couple of steps to the little platform at the front of the class, but I can feel every eye in the room crawling over me like an electric current. "Since the topic of the day is omega heats, and your anatomical knowledge appears to be so extensive, why don't you run us through the four stages?"

I blink at him. "You want me to describe an omega heat?"

He smirks at the squeak in my voice. "Scientific instruction, remember? So just stick to the facts, Mr. Cutter. And the rest of you, hands on your desks where I can see them."

I swallow a groan, realizing he just cranked the lust factor in the room up to a disturbing level.

"There are four distinct phases of heat," I begin, looking around. The class is watching me with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, with more than a few sniggers at my red face. I don't recognize anyone from the party, thank mercy, so I pin my gaze to the back wall and continue. "The first, proestrus, occurs when there is a surge of mating hormones in the omega. This may be part of the standard heat cycle, which occurs three times a year, or it may be due to contact with an alpha entering rut. The pheromones produced by the alpha are known as stimulato , or frenzy chemicals. The receptive omega may start to show signs of stimulation, including temperature spiking, skin flushing, pupil dilation, and increased scent concentration. The omega may exhibit mood swings or may display a more playful temperament."

A big brute of a guy in the middle of the class gives an exaggerated yawn, his biceps bulging as he laces his fingers and stretches his arms over his head. No one misses him mouthing the word ‘boring' at me, along with his sneer. I glance at the professor, but he just gestures impatiently for me to get on with it.

Fine. They just want the highlights? I can do that. "The second phase, estrus, begins with the production of slick. Do you know what slick is made up of?" Interest perks around the room, but I don't give them time to answer. "There are a couple of enzymes which dilate and lubricate the omega's channel, but the main components are water, proteins, fructose, lactose, and blood. The fructose gives the sweet honey scent and flavor, the lactose the milky consistency, and there is some research to suggest the blood droplets exist in slick to initiate the bonding process."

A couple of the students are now staring at me, slack jawed. I ignore them and continue. "During this phase, the omega is at their most fertile, as well as their most vulnerable. They will seek a secure, comfortable environment to commence initial nesting activities. Their scent will become increasingly concentrated and can be detected across large distances. In terms of physical changes, the clitoris - or prostate in male omegas - becomes erect and moist. The channels of the vagina and anus tighten and narrow as the soft tissue becomes congested and engorged. Rhythmic contractions of both channels commence, which can be painful for the omega if left untended."

A couple of the students grunt and shift their feet, but most of them are staring at me as if spellbound. "If an alpha initiated the heat through stimulato, they would likely fall into rut at this point. Their pheromones will spike, and they will be in a constant state of arousal, including the erection of the penis, initial swelling of the knot, and the copious production of pre-ejaculate. Behaviorally, omegas will become increasingly agitated if they're not tended, and alphas in their vicinity will show aggressive and possessive tendencies. Omegas will ‘present' for viable mates in an effort to encourage intercourse. Not just to initiate bonding or breeding, but because alpha ejaculate contains enzymes that reduce contractions and ignite the pleasure receptors in the brain. Sexual intercourse can occur up to a dozen times in a twelve-hour period, depending on the length of time it takes for the alpha's knot to deflate."

The room is silent – unnervingly so – but I keep my gaze pinned to the back wall and continue. "The third phase, diestrus, sees a drop in both fertility and heat frenzy. In the event of a bonding having taken place, mates will enter what is known as vincustrus. They will require constant physical contact, including the regular exchange and consumption of saliva, slick, and ejaculation, usually in the nest environment. The final phase, anestrus, is known as the resting phase. Informally, the four phases are known as surging, sating, nesting, and resting."

It's only as I glance at the professor that I realize the stuffy air of the classroom is saturated with alpha pheromones. The tang of metal is so hot on the back of my tongue, it's like I've been transported back to the commune's forge. If I hadn't been trained to resist alpha influence, I'd be hard-pressed to stay on my feet right now. Although, when I lock eyes with Law, my stomach clenches and I feel my underwear grow damp. I press my thighs together, but as his pupils dilate and his tongue peeks out between his full lips, I can't help but think of the cotton panties with the pink bow he gave me, hidden under my boyish military uniform.

"Alright, that's quite enough," the professor coughs, right as Law looks ready to surge out of his seat. "I think we'll pack up early today. Mr. Cutter, might I suggest you stick to the specific task in future? Showing off and distracting other students isn't going to get you extra credit in my class."

I give him a dazed nod, not even thinking about defending myself, because Law has grabbed my hand and is dragging me out into the hall. He shoulders his way through the students at the door. A few of them raise their hands in greeting, but when they catch sight of his face, they melt away like ice on a hot plate. Law ignores them, tugging me down the corridor. He's moving so fast, my feet barely touch the floor until he nudges open a door. The classroom beyond is dark, the blinds pulled down over the windows, and a projector pointed at a screen. Law kicks the door closed behind us and in a single motion presses me up against it, forcing a gasp out of me as I take his weight.

His elbows settle on either side of my head, his chest flush with mine. I can feel his heart hammering against my binder, but I'm even more fascinated by the gold flecks in his eyes, tiger bright in the dim room. "I need to kiss you, Jane. Are you going to let me?"

I gulp. There are so many reasons why that's a bad idea, but right now I can't think of a single one. "Yes. Mother Mercy, yes ."

"Exactly who I was praying to," he murmurs, stroking a thumb over my bottom lip. "Because if I don't get another taste of you, I think I'm gonna die."

That should make me hesitate, but there's something reckless and needy inside me, pushing all logic aside. I want more of what I felt in that dusty pantry. My first real kiss. Sweet and hot and asking for nothing more than my pleasure. I ignore the other part where I manipulated Manson and used my power on him. That has no place in the inch of needy breath hovering between Law's mouth and mine.

Our lips touch, a caress at first, but this kiss escalates even faster than our last. His tongue licks between my lips and the room grows even hazier as I drag his scent into my lungs. I hold it deep, letting it seep into every part of me, filling me up and making me even more needy at the same time.

"Can I touch you, Jane?"

The question is a hot pant against my cheek, and I nod, although I don't see how we can get physically closer until his fingers skim under my shirt. It's worked its way out of my waistband, and his hand is suddenly flat against my trembling stomach. I hold my breath, waiting to see which way his long fingers will venture. I'm embarrassed by the dampness between my legs, but the ache makes me squirm, and I lean into his muscled thigh. Mother mercy. It's so hot it scorches me through the material of my pants, and I can't stop myself rocking against him.

"I want to ravage you, Jane," he groans, his tongue turning lazy as it sweeps against mine. "Right here, with a hundred alphas outside this door."

I moan and press harder against him. Does he think I'm going to stop him? My skin is on fire, my blood roaring in my ears. Even if I wanted to step back, my body wouldn't let me.

"But not like this. I want you spread beneath me on silk sheets, not rammed up against a door." I open my mouth to protest, but he starts to unbutton my shirt, his eyes steady as he watches my reaction. "Still, I'm going to need to see you, Jane. Tell me if this is too much."

I stand silent and shaky as he slowly uncovers me, his fingers stroking down my neck and over the faint rise of my breasts. He frowns as they reach the edge of the chest binder. "Damn, what was I thinking putting you in this thing?"

"You were protecting my identity," I murmur, smiling at his pout.

"Yeah, well, I went overboard." He works his hands under the constrictive fabric, slowly peeling it down. I'm still wearing my shirt, so it bunches under my ribs, but Law doesn't care. His pupils are blown wide, his breath hot on my cheek as he stares at my naked breasts. "Mercy, Jane. It's a damn crime to cover these beauties up."

It's the first time anyone has seen me like this – let alone talked about it – and my heart beats harder at the curl to his lips. I want to hear more, but mostly I just want him to touch me. "Kiss them, Law. I need to feel your mouth on me."

He groans like he's in pain, but then dips his head and presses his face into my cleavage. I can feel him panting against my skin as he covers both breasts with his hands, gently bouncing them against his palms. As my head falls back against the door, his fingers circle my nipples, plucking them to aching points. Electric ripples travel straight to my core, and as my hips undulate against his, he groans. "You're so sensitive, sweetheart. Makes me want to suck you so hard."

I make a mewling sound, my hands clutching his arms as his lips drag up the slope of my left breast. Right as he sucks the nipple into his mouth, his fingers tug and twist on the other peak, making me gasp in a strange spike of pleasurable pain.

"You like that?" he purrs, swapping sides and lapping at my red nipple. "Tell me you like it, Jane. Tell me these rosy buds are all mine."

I grunt something into his mouth as he gives me another grinding, scorching kiss. I have no idea how long I stand there, rocking on Law's muscled thigh while he sucks and teases my breasts. Along with the ripples of pleasure-pain, little zings of power are streaking through my blood, but I keep it tamped down. I don't want it leaking through my skin or my breath, not when every raw, hungry kiss is enough to make my head spin.

Law. Law. Law.

It's a chant in my head as my fingers twine through his hair, my back arching as I squeeze my thighs and moan .

"Law? Jane?" I freeze at the familiar huff right on the other side of the door, and then there's a bump, like Drew just hit his head against the wood. "Fuck, I mean Jack ? Are you in there?"

Law's lips curl unhappily around my nipple. "Fuck off, Drew. We're busy."

"Not happening. You've already missed Strategy and Tactics. If Jack doesn't make it to his next class, they'll activate his monitor."

Law pulls away with a moan, reaching down to grab the bottom of my trousers. He shucks it up until the ankle monitor glows green in the dim light. "You said it's a fake."

"I said we're controlling the results. But do you really want them looking too closely at it?" Drew thumps his palm against the door. "And do you really want to be having this conversation here in the hallway?"

I shake my head and Law pulls back with a sigh, staring down at me. He's a delicious ruin. All puffy lips and tangled hair, but it's the hungry gleam in his eyes that makes my toes curl. "Silk sheets, Jane."

I shiver, quickly pulling the chest binder into place, then buttoning my shirt and shoving it back into my pants. Law does the same, a flare of masculine heat in his eyes as he stares at a faint wet patch on his trouser leg, right where I was grinding against him. My face burns, especially when he runs a finger down the damp material and then pops it between his lips, sucking it clean.

Drew, meanwhile, has wrestled the door open and is staring at us accusingly. "Holy shit, you two! You look like you just rolled out of bed."

My skin flushes so red it hurts. "I… I…"

Law waves off my stuttering and takes my hand. "Jane was just helping me with my anatomy homework." He steps into the hallway and looks around. The coast must be clear, because he pulls me out and drops a hot, hard kiss on my mouth. "We'll pick up the next chapter later, okay?"

I nod dumbly, but Drew slaps our clenched hands apart. "Are you trying to get us busted? You've got your weekly catch up with the dean now, remember?" He waves a hand at Law's face. "And wash up before you go into his office. You reek of omega."

The disapproval in his voice is enough to snap me out of my haze, but Law steps up to Drew, their chests bumping as they eye each other. "And you smell like a jealous boy. Don't project your issues onto us, Andrew."

"Us?" The word is almost a snarl, and I take a quick step back. These guys are friends, but they look like they're a nudge away from wrestling in the corridor. But then Drew's shoulders slump and he rubs a weary hand over his eyes. "You have to be careful , Law. You think the rules don't apply to you. But if you screw up, we all pay."

"I won't let that happen…"

"And how will you stop it? We're enemies of the state, Law!"

That sends a jolt through me, but Law just gives a lazy shrug. "Technically, I'm the state. And you know I don't believe all the stuff they said about your fathers…"

"Enough! Just shut your mouth, will you?" Drew reaches out and grabs my arm, pushing me ahead of him down the hallway. "You're late for your meeting, Lord Michaelson."

The air crackles between them for a moment, then Law stuffs his hands into the pockets of his messy trousers and strides away. In his wake, the hot iron of angry alpha almost chokes me, and I press my damp palms against the wall. After a long, strained silence, Drew curses under his breath, and I watch as he runs his battered shoe over the marble floor. "Drew, I'm sorry-."

But he cuts me off with a tight shake of his head. "Come on, Jack. We need to get to class before they trigger both our alarms."