SKYE

Over the next few days, Sean and Alvin saw us together a few times outside the building when Soren was smoking. I noticed their increasingly surprised looks.

Those moments with Soren became almost ritualistic.

He'd smoke, and I'd stand beside him, watching him blow smoke rings. Sometimes, our eyes would meet through the haze, and his gaze was always the same—impenetrable. It was the only time I had his consent to break the ‘no touching' rule. I'd quietly stand there until he finished his cigarette, then take a small step toward him and gently run my hand along his side and hip. I wasn't sure why I did it, but those little, strange moments felt like something that was just ours. Soren would slightly close his eyes when I touched him, letting me skim over his skin. Sometimes, I'd slide my hand lower, my thumb tracing a line along his hard dick. He'd let out a single purring sound when I did that.

I'd also regularly sniff his neck, and he seemed to like it when my nose made small movements, skimming over his neck gland. After he finished smoking, we'd head to class like nothing had happened, but something was happening. Something was growing between us—an incessant need to be around each other.

The day after our first Python class, I got a surprise. After a lecture that I attended alone, I walked out of the classroom and spotted a slender figure by the exit—Soren, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, smoking. Seeing him there made my heart race. As I walked up to him, I knew better than to investigate why he was there. He simply was there—and that was enough. The rule was: no questions asked.

From that moment, it was like a door had opened, and I started to slide through it more and more. Later that same day, I decided to search for him myself. He had a class in the side building, and I had a lecture in the main one. They ended at the same time. As I walked out of the main exit, I kept looking for Soren, hoping I'd run into him. Suddenly, I spotted him heading toward the cafeteria, his head on a swivel. When he saw me, he slowed down, almost like he was waiting for me to catch up. And I did. We walked into the cafeteria together.

It became another part of our new routine.

He'd come to the building where my labs were, and when I left the classroom, he'd always be standing there, smoking, waiting for me—obviously. I memorized his schedule, and I'd wait for him too. He never said anything about it, and neither did I. It just became how things were between us.

For some reason, it felt nice, almost sweet. I wondered how much of it was intentional on his part. He did everything with this strange, ambivalent expression—like he wanted it but didn't, yet couldn't resist. I think he just gave up fighting the need to be close to me.

For the next three days, we had intense Python tutoring sessions. Soren was surprisingly empathetic as a teacher. You'd think a guy with his personality would be easily annoyed or even condescending, but that wasn't true at all! If anything, it was the other way around. He was super patient—gentle and kind when correcting my mistakes, even the dumb ones. He never scolded me or made a face! There was something different about him during our tutoring sessions—softer, sweeter, like another, secret side of him came out.

But on the fourth day of this tutoring session, something weird happened. I was a bit late for my second class, the first one I had with Soren that day. When I walked into the lecture room, Soren was sitting in the corner, looking unusually pale and slightly sweaty, like he had a fever.

I sat next to him, and he didn't say a word. I glanced at him. "You okay? You don't look so good."

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the lecturer. "I'm alright. Just not feeling great today, but I'll be fine."

Throughout the lecture, I kept gazing at him, and could almost sense his condition worsening. He leaned forward slightly, like something was hurting him. His skin got sweatier and even paler. His shoulders were hunched, he barely took notes, and he seemed distracted, struggling just to swallow.

"Soren, I can see something's wrong. What's going on? Are you in pain?"

He just shook his head and slowly closed his eyes. "Nothing can be done about it. It is what it is."

I had no idea what he meant by that.

"Soren, please, tell me what's happening."

"It's nothing, Skye. It doesn't concern you."

"But I can see you're in pain. I can't just ignore it, for fuck's sake. Are you having stomach cramps?"

Soren didn't respond.

When the lecture ended, he looked even worse. At one point, he pressed his hands to his face, took a deep breath, and trembled slightly. He didn't even stand up to leave the room. I could almost see the wave of pain passing through him.

"Listen, let me help you get back to your dorm. You really don't look well. You shouldn't be here."

To my surprise, Soren didn't protest.

As the students started to leave, I gently took his elbow and helped him up. I could tell he appreciated it. He wobbled slightly, struggling to stay on his feet, his shaky hand gripping my forearm as he squeezed his eyelids shut.

I felt a wave of fear. His condition seemed serious.

Protectively, I put my arm around him, and again, to my surprise, he didn't pull away. We walked out of the building, with me guiding him. We moved slowly, and I noticed that his lips were trembling.

Occasionally, he'd stop to gather his strength before moving forward again. Fortunately, his dorm wasn't far. But when he looked at the steep steps leading to the entrance, I could see panic in his eyes. Without saying anything, I bent down, slipped my hands under his knees, and lifted him up, carrying him up the stairs. Soren made a vague sound of protest, but he was too weak to fight me. Some students passing by turned their heads.

We got to his dorm room in about two minutes. Once there, he pushed his hand against my chest, signaling me to put him down.

He was standing on his own, but still swaying slightly. "Thanks. I can manage from here. You've got another class soon, so you should go, or you'll be late."

"What about you? Can you tell me what's wrong? Is it stomach pain?"

"It's nothing major. Sometimes I get these pains. I just need to lie down, and it'll pass. See you."

He opened his door, slipped inside, and quickly shut it behind him.

What could I say? I didn't know what was wrong with him, and I couldn't even try to push for answers, since we weren't officially boyfriends. That would've been a violation of his privacy. Maybe he had a migraine? Though it didn't look like it—more like a stomach ache.

I went back to my classes, but it was hard to focus. My thoughts kept drifting back to Soren. The same question kept bothering me: What was wrong with him? Was he sick? Maybe he had food poisoning, but he would've mentioned that right away. Something just didn't add up.

Soren didn't show up for the next lecture or the one after that. He didn't read my text messages either. In the afternoon, when my classes were over, I decided to check on him.

I grabbed some broccoli soup to go from the cafeteria and headed to his dorm. I knocked on his door, but there was no answer. My nerves started to act up, so I knocked again. Still nothing.

Standing there, I began to feel more and more anxious, imagining terrible scenarios of finding Soren dead in his bed. I kept knocking, getting more impatient. After what felt like two or three minutes, the door finally opened.

"God! Soren, you look terrible. What the fuck is going on?"

Soren truly looked like a zombie—deathly pale, shivering. He could barely stand, swaying on his feet. It must've taken a lot just to get to the door.

"I'm fine," he said, though it was clear he was bullshitting. "Leave me alone," he added, but his usually sharp voice wasn't there; now it sounded weak and shaky.

He tried to close the door, but I blocked it with my leg and kept it open. He didn't have the strength to shut it in my face.

"Soren, for fuck's sake! Don't be ridiculous. I can see you're not okay. You need a doctor. Let me take you to one!"

"No! I'm fine, really. In two days, I'll be good as new…"

I could see he wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible, but he just didn't have the physical strength to keep convincing me. So, I pushed the door even more and stepped inside. He leaned against the hallway wall, obviously giving up, so I took him by the arm to lead him to the bed. That's when I saw it.

A bloodstain on the sheet.

My mouth gaped as I stared at it, frozen.

"What's this?!"

Soren cursed under his breath. He must not have noticed it when he got up. He grabbed a roll of toilet paper, trying to cover the stain, but I stopped him.

I turned him toward me since he was practically bending over, almost falling down. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close to stabilize him.

"Tell me what's going on, Soren. This looks bad. If you don't tell me, I'm calling an ambulance. It looks life-threatening. I can't ignore it, no matter how angry you get at me."

He cursed again and, unexpectedly, rested his forehead on my chest, muttering, "I don't need a doctor because I know what's happening. I've been through this a few times already."

"So what is it? This looks awful. That's a bloodstain—"

"It might look awful, but I have it under control."

I struggled to keep my composure. "Bullshit. You're not in control of anything. I'm taking you to the hospital—"

"No!" He lifted his head; we were still pressed against each other, his chest against mine, his face just below mine.

"It's a miscarriage."

Wait. What? I froze, blinking. Did I hear that right?

"A… miscarriage?" My voice trembled. "But you're a beta…" I stammered in shock, probably sounding dumb.

He laughed bitterly.

"Yeah. You obviously don't know that about 10% of betas can get pregnant under the right conditions. There's also a group like me who can get pregnant but can't carry to term."

"I… don't understand. But… you knew you'd miscarry?" I was in total shock.

"Yes, I've been through it before. I told you, I was in a relationship with Anton all through high school and the first three years of college."

"Yeah, you told me that, but what's with these miscarriages? Can you explain?"

Soren rested his head on my chest again.

"When I was with him, after I turned eighteen, something started to change in me. I had these waves of fever, and I started to produce slick. I thought I was a late-blooming omega, but the doctor didn't confirm it. A couple of months later, I had this strange episode, and they diagnosed it as a mini-heat."

I widened my eyes.

"A mini-heat? I've never heard that term before."

"Even up to 30% of betas experience very mild versions of normal heat, feeling only slightly increased arousal for a few days. And about 5-10% have much stronger, but very short ones, like me. Most of them can't get pregnant, but I'm part of the few percent—within those few percent—who can. The only problem is, I can't carry the pregnancy to term because my glands aren't active enough—they're standard for betas. They don't produce the necessary hormones, and my uterus doesn't grow—it's too small, beta-typical, underdeveloped."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "So, if you knew this, why didn't you use protection?"

Soren scoffed in irritation. "The first time it happened, I had no idea I could even get pregnant. I mean, come on, I'm still a beta. I don't produce allure pheromones, present as a beta, and my hormonal profile is typical of betas." He shrugged slightly.

I put my hand on the back of his head, stroking it gently as he continued, "But I was still happy to hear about the possibility of having a child, and so was Anton, but it didn't last long—just two and a half months later—I miscarried."

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

Soren shrugged one more time. "After talking with the doctor, we decided that if I ever got pregnant again, I should try artificial hormones to help the pregnancy. I read it can work in many cases, so I stayed hopeful and optimistic. We didn't try for the baby on purpose, but it's just… these mini-heats I have only last a few hours. They are very unpredictable. Unlike omegas, who can calculate it based on hormone levels, for me, it's a sudden spike. So if I had sex even a few days before, there was still a chance of fertilization, even if we used rubber during the heat itself. Sperm can live for up to seven days. When it happened one year later, I tried the artificial hormones, but… it still didn't work, and I miscarried the second time. I went through some consultations, and the doctors told me my uterus wasn't growing. There wasn't much they could do, and then I gave up hope of having kids. I promised myself to be cautious and rigorously use condoms."

"You didn't use hormonal contraception?"

Soren raised his face and looked at me with a dejected grimace.

"It's useless in my case. Betas' endocrine systems are often unpredictable. My body has a high resistance to artificial hormones, just like with the hormones meant to support pregnancy, it didn't respond as it should. I felt bad after taking them, I even fainted. And before you ask about other forms of contraception, like intrauterine devices, I tried those too, but the uterus in betas has a very thin lining. It caused—"

"Okay, got it. Enough details. So, just condoms."

"Yes. They worked well most of the time. My heats come every few months. In the remaining years of my relationship with Anton, I managed to prevent pregnancy every time, except once when the condom broke. So, I had a total of three miscarriages."

I fell silent because I didn't know what to say. We stood there awkwardly, and I still held him in my arms—our faces so close, our mouths just inches apart.

Soren resumed speaking slowly, his gaze now resting on my Adam's apple.

"I stayed home for the third time. I hated being in the hospital, and they can't do anything about it anyway, so… it is what it is."

I took a deep breath. Now was the moment for that crucial question, the one I really didn't want to ask, but I had to.

"But it's not your ex-boyfriend's child, right, Soren? You two broke up toward the end of sophomore year?"

Soren cursed quietly under his breath, suddenly pulling away from my embrace. He slowly walked over to the desk and sank into the chair, resting his head in his hands.

"Yeah. It's not his."

The silence was agonizing. I had no idea what to say or do, but he started to speak.

"Since I broke up with Anton, I haven't looked for anyone else. Six months ago, halfway through the previous semester, I joined the Kingdom of Promises, and I still avoided alphas, but Don… I got on his radar. He just wouldn't leave me alone."

Immediately, hearing the name, my body stiffened. An unpleasant feeling clenched my stomach.

Soren continued, his head low.

"He pursued me for all those months, wouldn't take no for an answer, even though I refused him every time. He was giving me money, a lot. Sometimes even $500, just for hanging around. Then one day, when I got a mini-heat, terrible luck happened. He was at some big mall and bought extra stuff, like mineral water packs and whatever. He wanted to bring it to me and came at the exact time my mini-heat had started. I didn't know what to do. He begged me to let him fuck me, I refused, I asked him to leave, but I was in such a state that it was really hard to even speak coherently! I was writhing on the bed in pain, physically unable to kick him out of the room. So he took advantage of the situation. I begged him not to do it, but he grabbed me and didn't listen. I even pleaded with him to at least use a protection, he did, but… his dick is small, the standard alpha condom had to just slip at some point, even if just a bit, and… I got pregnant."

Feeling a wave of anger I'd rarely felt before, I rushed to the door, stopping myself at the last moment just before pulling the handle. I wanted to run through the campus and find Don, to kill him, but when I turned to look at Soren, I just cursed loudly. I saw his watery eyes staring at me. He needed me more, here and now—and I needed to hear what he had to say.

Soren pressed his hands to his face.

"After it was over, he ran away and came back with $5,000. I screamed and threw it in his face. I said I was going to the police, but he fell on his knees crying, saying he'd pay my dad's medical bills, all of them, and the rest of my tuition. I refused, so he made a money transfer to the admin office in my name, paying the rest of my tuition. I couldn't stop it or order them to return it since the transfer wasn't from my account, so the refund wasn't possible at my request. He begged me to give him the account number where the debt money was going, but I refused. I told him I was going to report it, but he literally lay on the floor and cried for hours, begging me to forgive him."

"I hope you didn't," I whispered, clenching my jaw.

Soren cursed. "I sat here and thought while he sobbed and pleaded with me. And I came to the conclusion that I just don't want people to know. I don't want to deal with it. I don't want to be the raped beta on campus, used during some strange heat incident. A freak. Don is well-liked, and I'm hated. I have no friends. I'm here just one semester longer than you. How would this turn out for me? So I just gave up, said I wouldn't report him, and told him he couldn't say a word about this. But that's all. Unfortunately, that idiot hasn't left me alone since then, thinking that if I let it go, nothing really happened, and that I forgave him. He still tries to give me money, but since that situation, I haven't taken a dime from him."

I spat out angrily, "Nothing happened? That was textbook heat rape, Soren. And he walks free?! If you didn't want it, and he forced you into it, there's nothing redeemable about the situation!"

Seeing he could barely sit, I stepped closer and knelt beside him, and he was trembling all over.

"Yes," he whispered. "It was rape. I hate him for it, but he keeps coming back, begging and apologizing to me."

My anger was almost blinding. It took everything I had to stop myself from hunting Don down like a rabid beast. I had heard before about the plague of heat rapes on campuses, but now it seemed even more unsettlingly real. I had proof that fuckers like Don could get away with stuff like that, as long as they had money and a 'likability' factor.

"What a bastard, such a piece of shit! I'm sorry, Soren. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like that—like I was pushing you. I'm just now realizing how it might've come across… I really apologize, for everything."

Soren laughed bitterly. "Don't even compare the two! You never even touched me. Your pushiness and his are worlds apart. And you actually stopped when I told you to. He crossed a line, but honestly, I don't know what I can do about it. It was so sudden—he came when I was only half an hour into my heat. His eyes changed immediately, and went red. Some alphas get like that during a rut, and he went into a powerful one—growling, sniffing, making all sorts of sounds I couldn't understand, speaking in your stupid AO language. He probably asked me something in that way, but since I couldn't answer, he just went with it. There was no getting through to him—he was like a feral animal. Afterward, I tried to normalize it in my head, and I even managed for a while, telling myself nothing happened, that maybe I was overreacting or being unreasonable. I even pretended to him that nothing significant had taken place, brushing it off. But it did… and now I'm paying the price for it."

"He doesn't know about the—?" I made a gesture toward his abdomen.

"Of course not! And you have to keep your mouth shut. He'd be even more persistent and going crazy!"

There was one more thing I wanted to ask, "Soren, when did it happen exactly?"

Soren made a snorting sound. "One day after the semester started. The irony is, the next day I saw you for the first time. I was devastated and broken and full of enmity. You approached me and wanted to sit next to me, and I hated you. Seeing that flicker of interest in your eyes, I had this thought—no, not another asshole going after me…"

I lowered my head. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

He grimaced and waved his hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter anymore."

His skin seemed almost sickly translucent. He had deep, dark shadows under his eyes, and today his long eyelashes seemed to add a tragic, sad aura to his gaze, instead of giving him a seductive look as it usually did. I gently took his hand and kissed the top of it.

"I see you are trembling; you should not sit here any longer. Please lie down, Soren."

He obeyed without protest. I helped him up and moved him to the bed. He lay down next to the bloodstains, which I hastily covered with torn pieces of paper towel.

"I'm sorry to ask, but is it over now? Did… everything come out?" My voice was soft and quiet.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately not, the bleeding's just begun. It usually lasts all day."

That didn't sound good.

"You know you should be in the hospital, right? What if something's left inside?"

"I don't want to go to the hospital. I've already been there twice, and it was the same each time—nothing stayed inside. My uterus is really small and contracts very strongly, expelling everything."

"Alright, I won't force you. You've had enough of people making you do things you don't want to do," I added bitterly, "But I'm staying here with you. I've got that broccoli soup you like. I'll make sure everything goes as safely as possible."

He growled softly, "Why would you stay? We're not boyfriends, and I'd object to sharing this even with my best friend, Liam."

"Maybe it's for the best that I'm almost a stranger. If I stay, I'll keep you company. It's like you've hired a nurse. I can't believe anyone would want to be alone in a moment of such suffering."

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then hesitated and fell silent, just lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Whatever, but I won't be much of a talkative companion."

"I'm cool with that. I just want to make sure things don't get worse than usual."

"You don't owe me anything."

"But I'm also a human being, and you're a human being feeling crappy, so I'll stay."

He didn't respond, so I got up. "I'm going to the pharmacy now to buy postpartum pads…"

"You don't have to, I've got them here. There's a whole pack under the bed," he muttered.

I sighed, realizing he'd been ready for this moment for a while now. I knelt down, retrieved the pack, and pulled out a pad.

"You should take off your pants and underwear; I'll slide this under your hips."

Since he didn't make a move, I pushed the blanket aside and helped him myself, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers from his narrow hips, both bearing traces of blood. I took it to the bathroom, tossing the boxers under the faucet to soak the blood and prevent any permanent stains.

Then I saw a small bowl next to the sink, filled it with warm water, and grabbed some paper towels. Upon returning to the room, I slid the pad under his hips without saying a word. He stayed silent, staring at the ceiling. I wasn't sure why he was letting me do this, as if I truly were a nurse. It felt strange, such intimate ministrations, yet he didn't protest.

I took a piece of paper towel, dampened it, and said, "You've got some blood on your thighs; let me wipe it off."

He slowly parted his legs. I saw dried blood stains on his butt and inner thighs, so I gently cleaned them. As I did this, he kept staring at the ceiling. Then, I covered him with the blanket again.

I set the bowl aside and, after a moment of hesitation, sat next to him on the other pad, which covered the previous bloodstain.

"Maybe you'd like some broccoli soup? It's still warm."

"Okay," he murmured quietly.

I brought the soup and scooped some onto a spoon, holding it to his lips.

To my amazement, he opened his mouth and let me feed him! I did it with a neutral expression so he wouldn't feel like it was a burden for me or something weird.

Then, suddenly, I saw a single tear slip from the corner of his eye… The sight made me freeze.

But was it really so shocking to glimpse the vulnerable, human side beneath his prickly hedgehog mask? I already knew Soren wasn't what he seemed on the surface.

He didn't look at me even for a moment, and I didn't know what to say. With a hesitant gesture, I lightly stroked his forearm. He didn't react, so I took another spoonful. In silence, he let me feed him. I searched for the right words but found none, so when I finished giving him the soup, I lay down next to him and just hugged him.

Though I couldn't express my sympathy with more elaborate words—since I knew he wasn't ready to make space for real intimacy between us—I could only show it through my actions. My hands stroked him gently, soothingly, for a while as we lay there, and he seemed to appreciate it, turning slightly toward me and resting his head on my chest.

I could hear his breathing hitching, probably fighting back tears. Suddenly, he whispered,

"I hate my life."

I moved my hand up from his back to his head and began to stroke it gently as he spoke.

"Ever since my fiancé, Anton, left, everything in my life has gotten worse. Everything's fallen apart. I hate every day, I hate people, I hate myself, the decisions I've made, my desperation, my stupidity. The only thing that comforts me is that when I finish school, I'll have a job at DevApp. Besides that, there's nothing that makes me want to get up in the morning. Because I know that even if there are good moments, I won't be able to keep them forever."

I was stunned by what he said that he opened up so much to a stranger like me. But maybe I had a point earlier? Perhaps me—being a stranger—truly made it easier for him? I hugged him even tighter and tenderly kissed his temple. He let me do that too.