The morning starts normal.
Too normal. The kind of normal that tricks you into thinking everything's fine before the world tilts sideways.
I'm walking to herbal practicum, notes tucked under one arm, mind already on the scent-extraction demonstration Professor Robbins mentioned. Calder falls into step beside me halfway across the quad; our schedules have started syncing without discussion, paths crossing at predictable intersections.
"Sleep okay?" he asks.
"Better. You?"
"Fine."
The conversation is mundane, comfortable. His shoulder brushes mine when we dodge a group of chattering betas. November air bites cold enough to see our breath.
We're ten feet from the science building when I hear it.
"That's the one, right? The omega with three alphas?"
The voice carries. Intentionally loud, meant to be heard.
I keep walking. Calder's stride hitches, barely perceptible, but I notice.
"Bet she's good at sharing."
Crude laughter follows.
My face burns. I don't look, don't acknowledge, just keep moving toward the building entrance because engaging would only make it worse?—
Calder stops walking.
I turn.
His expression has gone cold and flat. Dangerous. Every line of his body taut with barely leashed violence.
"Calder, don't?—"
He's already moving.
Three strides close the distance to the alpha who spoke, tall, broad-shouldered, smirking with his friends like this is entertainment. Calder grabs him by the shirt collar and slams him against the brick wall hard enough that I hear the impact.
"Say that again." His voice is lethal. "I fucking dare you."
The quad goes silent. Students freeze mid-step, conversations dying. Everyone watching the spectacle unfold.
The alpha's smirk vanishes. Hands come up, placating. "Hey, man, I was just?—"
"Just what? Objectifying an omega? Reducing her to what you think she's good for?" Calder's grip tightens. The alpha's facereddens. "Finish that sentence. I want to hear you say it while I'm standing here."
"Calder." My voice comes out strangled. "Let him go."
He doesn't seem to hear me. Vision tunneled, pulse pounding visible in his neck, every protective instinct spiked into dangerous territory.
This isn't careful, controlled Calder. This is violence barely leashed, one wrong word from becoming something worse.
"Calder, please?—"
He looks at me then. Really looks.
I watch realization crash across his expression as he sees my face, eyes wide and dark. Fear of what he might do, fear of how this looks to everyone watching.
