♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.
The Academy dorms were silent, but for Asher, the silence was louder than the shouting at the market. He lay on his back, staring at the stone ceiling, replaying Aiden's threat over and over in his head. With a single pin from me, I could make you as submissive as an Omega in heat.
Asher's skin felt hot. He knew he should stay in bed. His conscience was screaming at him that poking a sleeping tiger was a death wish, but his pride was a different story. He needed to know if Aiden was bluffing. He needed to prove that he, Asher, wasn't just some puppet to be controlled by a twelve-year-old's pheromones.
He got out of bed, his bare feet cold on the floor. He tiptoed down the hallway, his heart racing so fast he could hear it in his ears. When he reached Aiden's door, he didn't knock. He slowly turned the handle and slipped inside.
Aiden wasn't asleep. He was lying on his back, staring at the shadows on the wall, his arms behind his head. The moment Asher stepped into the room, Aiden's nose twitched.
"Get out, Asher," Aiden said, his voice flat and tired. "I'm not in the mood for your games tonight."
Asher didn't leave. Instead, he reached back and clicked the lock on the door. The sound was sharp in the quiet room. He walked over to the bed and, with a sudden surge of adrenaline, he kicked the mattress right next to Aiden's leg.
"Make me," Asher challenged.
Aiden didn't move. He just closed his eyes. "I'm telling you for the last time. Go back to your room. I don't want to hurt you."
Asher laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. He started pacing at the foot of the bed, his voice getting louder. "You're pathetic, Aiden. You talk big on the road, but here in the dark, you're just a kid playing dress-up. You don't have the guts to actually do anything. You're weak. You're unworthy of the blood in your veins. You only have power because your father is a King, not because you earned it."
Aiden's jaw tightened. He sat up slowly, his eyes fixed on Asher. "Stop talking. You don't know what you're asking for. I don't want to traumatize you, Asher. I know your body is confused right now."
The Insult That Snapped the Leash
Asher stepped closer, his face inches from Aiden's. "Traumatize me? You can't even control your own bladder during a heat, and you think you can traumatize me? You're a fluke. A mistake. If Lorcan saw you now, he'd realize you're just a pampered brat who thinks everyone is his servant."
The mention of Lorcan was the final straw. It was the one name Asher knew would draw blood.
Aiden snapped.
In a blur of movement that Asher couldn't even track, Aiden was off the bed. He didn't punch him. He didn't shove him. He moved like a predator, closing the distance and pinning Asher against the heavy oak door.
"I told you to stop," Aiden growled, his voice vibrating with a primal power that made the windows rattle in their frames.
Asher started laughing nervously, but the sound was shaky. "Whoa, okay! I was just messing around, Aiden! Calm down! It was a joke!"
"It's not a joke anymore," Aiden said.
Aiden leaned in, his pheromones exploding in the small space. It wasn't a wave of heat; it was a targeted, crushing weight. He reached up and wrapped his hand around Asher's neck, his thumb pressing directly onto the sensitive, shifting gland beneath the skin.
Asher's laughter died instantly. His eyes went wide, and his breath hitched in his throat. The moment Aiden's hand made contact with that specific spot, Asher's legs turned to water. The dominance wasn't just physical; it was a biological command that bypassed Asher's brain and went straight to his nerves.
"Stop... Aiden, stop," Asher whispered, his hands coming up to grip Aiden's wrists, but he had no strength to pull them away. "I was just... I was just joking..."
Aiden didn't listen. He held on, his grip firm but not choking, letting his scent flood Asher's senses. He was doing exactly what an Alpha does to a disrespectful mate—he was demanding absolute silence and absolute submission.
For several long minutes, they stayed like that. Asher was shaking, his face flushed, his mind a complete fog. He couldn't think, couldn't fight, couldn't even remember why he was angry. All he knew was the weight of Aiden's hand and the terrifying, magnetic power of his presence.
Finally, Aiden let go. He stepped back, his chest heaving, his eyes fading back from gold to their usual color.
"Go," Aiden said, his voice cold. "And don't ever lock my door again."
Asher didn't say a word. He scrambled for the lock, his fingers fumbling with the metal, and bolted out of the room as if the building were on fire.
***
The next morning, the dynamic had changed again. Asher was no longer bold enough to walk into Aiden's room at night. The memory of that grip on his neck was burned into his skin.
But Asher was a creature of habit and pride. He couldn't just stop being a jerk. Instead, he adapted. He started provoking Aiden only when they were outdoors, in the wide-open training fields or the academy gardens.
"Hey, Aiden!" Asher would shout from twenty yards away, a smirk on his face. "Still think you're a King? Or are you just a bully with a grip problem?"
The moment Aiden would turn toward him, his eyes beginning to glow, Asher would turn and sprint away. He knew Aiden was faster, but in the open air, the pheromones couldn't pin him down the way they did in a locked room.
"Catch me if you can, your Highness!" Asher would yell over his shoulder, his heart pounding with a mix of terror and a strange, addicting thrill.
He was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, testing the boundaries of the monster he had helped wake up. Aiden would chase him, sometimes for miles through the forest, the two of them becoming a blur of Northern Academy uniforms.
Back at the palace, the reports of their "running games" reached the King's study.
"They're acting like wild animals," Arion sighed, looking at the bill for a destroyed garden fence.
"No," Kyon said, watching the two boys through a looking glass as they sprinted across the horizon. "They're acting like a master and his misbehaving kitty. Aiden is learning how to hunt, and Asher... well, Asher is learning that there's nowhere left to hide."
Neither of them knew that in the South, Lorcan was clutching those photos, watching the "hunt" through a different lens, and feeling the first cold embers of resentment start to glow in his heart.