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Chapter One
HOW TO LOVE AN ALPHA (RESERCH RESERCHED)
See the good in him wen no one else can.
Do NOT give up wen he pushes me away. That is wen he needs me the MOST.
Be so much devoshun that he is transformed.
My love is the light that keeps out the darkness.
A torchered alpha just needs one person who will believe in him.
Sole mate = when 2 people are ment to be. It hurts if it is reel. (the hurt is how you know)
vunrable vulnrable = wen he lets you see the soft part.
✦ ✧ ✦
Stella Trent-Michaels was going to fix Jason Lovell if it killed her. She’d been trying for two seasons, ever since Jason told her that he didn’t believe in love. She’d marched across the Dalton Academy quad in her plaid skirt and knee socks, said yes you do, you’re just scared, then she’d slapped him and run away.
What an omega.
In today’s episode, she was following through. “I’m going to kiss the frown right off your face, Jason Lovell,” Stella said, and the violins swelled until Cassian had to turn the volume down on his iPad.
Stella lunged for Jason.
Cassian looked down at his notebook very quickly, because kissing scenes made him feel funny when Colin was sitting near him. He didn’t understand why. Kissing was a perfectly normal thing that people did on television and in real life. He’d googled it, and he saw Diwa doing it with Colin all the time. Google said it released oxytocin, which made you feel good. But his neck still went hot whenever Colin was close enough to notice what he was watching.
He uncapped his pen and wrote, in his best handwriting, his latest learning:
8. Kiss your alphas frown’s away.
The apostrophe might have been wrong. Apostrophes were slippery little marks that appeared and disappeared according to rules Lysander, Colin’s youngest son, had explained three times now. He was fairly certain that the frowns belonged to his theoretical alpha, so maybe he’d got it right here…
He was admiring how straight his writing looked on the page when his notebook was snatched out of his hands.
Cassian’s mouth fell open on a shout.
The young man in front of him was slim and dark-haired, sharp-faced like the actors in Uptown Omegas, with a collar of pale blue stones fastened high around his throat. He held Cassian’s notebook between two fingers, like it was something he’d found on the floor of a bus.
He was also, unmistakably, a male omega, but there was something wrong with his scent. It was sharp and chemical, like antiseptic over bruised fruit.
The stranger read aloud from Cassian’s notebook.
“My love is the light that keeps out the darkness.” He looked up from the page, and his smile was not nice. “Christ alive. Where did you get this shit? A Clintons card?”
Cassian lunged for it.
The other omega pulled the notebook out of reach, already flipping to the previous page. His eyes scanned down the list, and his upper lip curled.
“T-O-R-C-H-E-R-E-D,” he read out, in a voice that carried across the waiting room. “Are you six? That’s not how you spell tortured.”
Cassian’s cheeks burned. He’d sounded that word out letter by letter as he wrote it, and he’d been so proud of getting the ch right; tortured had a ch sound in it, anyone could hear that, so why was this omega saying it was wrong?
“Give it back.”
Colin hadn’t raised his voice. He was sitting with Tala asleep on his chest, one hand curved over the back of her head, and the look he fixed on the dark-haired omega was cutting.
