Chapter 1
Vardan:
I woke up at 5 a.m. to the unpleasant shriek of my alarm. Somehow, I forced myself out of bed for school. From the kitchen, I could hear my mother yelling, “Vardan! Get up! You’ll be late! Go take a bath and do your daily prayer!”
After much tossing and turning, I finally got up and headed to the kitchen for water. My mother was already preparing breakfast and my lunch. I grabbed my bottle and returned to my room, glancing at the calendar while predicting and marking the next date of my heat cycle. I didn’t want to make a mess or throw a tantrum this time.
My first heat started four years ago, when I was twelve. I hadn’t known how to handle it then—I’d collapsed in confusion and fear. Now, it still comes occasionally, especially because I have some weaknesses I don’t fully understand. But to me, everything else is perfect: my body, my weight, my slim waist… and most importantly, my face. I wonder who will be the lucky one to claim me.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, running a hand through my hair. Smooth skin. Sharp jawline. Eyes that could captivate—or intimidate. I shook my head. Enough vanity. Today isn’t about that.
Once freshened up, I finished my bath and prayers. My parents sat at the dining table, waiting. I greeted them, “Good morning,” and they responded warmly. I hurriedly ate the cornflakes my mother prepared, savoring the brief quiet before the day began. My father reminded me to finish quickly and pack my bag. Soon, he drove me to school, my mother waving goodbye at the gate.
It’s my first day in 11th grade, science stream. Excitement mixed with nerves twisted in my stomach. Social anxiety gnawed at me—I just hope to meet new classmates. I don’t want to see the old, cringe faces from 10th grade. My friends didn’t choose science, so I’ll probably end up alone in class.
The moment my father dropped me off and I stepped onto the school grounds, chaos surrounded me. Thousands of thoughts swirled as I navigated the noise. The chatter, the laughter, the shouts—it all threatened to overwhelm me. I forced myself to focus, taking deep breaths to anchor my racing heart.
Entering the classroom, all eyes immediately turned to me. I didn’t look at them, but I could feel their gazes on my skin, my face, my presence. I slid into a lone bench, hoping at least one glance would be warm enough to soothe me.
Then I felt it—someone was staring from behind. I turned and met two dark, warm eyes that didn’t make me feel ashamed. My stomach fluttered, and for the first time that morning, I felt… seen.
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Caesar:
I think last night was the final fight with my mother. I don’t understand why she never seems to get me, why she expects so much. Two days ago, my uncle took me from her home in Dehradun to Delhi, trying to prevent more fights. I felt utterly alone.
I regret my actions and behavior, and I want to apologize, though I know she might not forgive me. I didn’t do anything to deserve anger, yet everything feels ruined.
Now, I’m starting school again in Delhi. I chose the science stream to pursue a career I love, but my mother… she’s never been supportive. My first day begins with a strange sensation, as if someone—or something—is pulling me toward it.
Entering the school, every student’s eyes seemed to pierce me. As a muscular, disciplined alpha who trains daily, I’m proud of my physique, but constant scrutiny tires me. I just wish they’d mind their own business.
In class 11th ‘A’, the chaos quieted the moment I walked in. All eyes were on me, except one: a boy seated alone near the window. Curious, I sat two desks behind him, studying him carefully. Cute, introverted… definitely an omega.
Our eyes met briefly. His dark brown eyes seemed like they wanted to say something, but he quickly looked away. I felt a flutter in my chest—nothing obsessive, just curiosity.
When attendance began, the first name called was “Vardan Roy.” Cute name. He met my gaze again as I stood to answer, casting a shadow over him. I felt a strange flutter in my stomach, but he ignored me. Introverted, for sure.
During chemistry, he answered every question, even the ones I didn’t know. A nerd, then. But at lunch, he transformed into the biggest chatterbox around his friends. His behavior was contradictory, but… what does it matter? Thinking about him is useless.
Still, I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him. The way he pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. The slight crease of concentration on his forehead. Small, fleeting things, but somehow captivating.
And that’s when I realized something. Curiosity had grown into… anticipation. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to know him.
Stay tuned
