- Elias Grayson:
Dinner had ended, and the clatter of plates and low chatter had faded into a comfortable, quiet hum. Sebastian and I had spent the meal talking and laughing quietly. He was… surprisingly sweet. If I ignored the fact that he looked like he could crush someone with a glance and his scent could unsettle anyone, he was genuinely kind and thoughtful... And so sweet and shy.
After clearing the table, I looked at my dad. "I'm going to go take a walk… clear my head and get back to studying later."
He smiled and glanced at Marcus. "Okay, take Sebastian with you."
Marcus nodded. "Yes. He likes to walk after dinner too. Go ahead."
I caught Sebastian staring at his dad with wide eyes, though he quickly hid it. Confusing, but I didn't dwell on it, because Sebastian is a nice guy and I don't mind being around him.
"Yeah… hell yeah," I said, standing up. "Sebastian… want to go? You can keep me company."
He shuddered slightly, then nodded. "…Yeah. Yeah, sure... Of course."
He stood and grabbed the leather jacket that he left on the couch earlier, then walked toward me. That's when I really noticed just how tall he was. I'm already 5'11", usually the tallest around, but I had to tilt my head slightly to meet his eyes. His presence was massive.
And then I noticed something even more unusual—he didn't take the lead. Most people, most ranks, automatically lead when they're around an Omega. It's instinctive; it's their stupid need to assert dominance. But Sebastian… he just walked beside me, letting me guide him. Letting me choose the path, the pace. If it had been anyone else, they'd be walking ahead, unconsciously taking control. That small act made me feel… good. Really good. I couldn't help but smile.
----
The evening air was cool as we walked through the territory, the faint rustle of leaves underfoot the only sound besides our steps. "Oh… the weather's nice today," I said casually.
He hummed quietly in agreement. "…Yeah."
I stole a glance at him. His long hair still fell over his face, hiding the scar. Every time someone passed, he angled his head to avoid being seen. Stupid, I thought. He was really good looking—the scar only added to it—he didn't need to hide, it made him look different, badass.
Finally, I couldn't resist asking. "Oh my god… how tall are you, man? I mean, I usually end up being the tallest around, but you… I have to look up. How tall are you?" I chuckled at the end.
He let out a small, almost shy chuckle. "I'm… 6'11"."
I blinked. "6'11"? That's… insane. No wonder you seem like a giant. Good for you, tho." He shrugged lightly, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah… It's noticeable."
We continued walking in silence for a few moments, the soft rhythm of our steps carrying us along. Then, I finally asked, "So… why did your family have to leave the Grayson Pack twenty-one years ago? Because from what I noticed, we could have grown up together if you guys hadn't left."
For the first time, I saw him tense, his massive shoulders stiffening for just a second. He kept walking, voice low but steady. "…It was because of me."
I stopped mid-step. "Because of you? What do you mean? Did something happen?"
He hesitated, clenching his hands slightly. "…No. Not because of something I did. It's because of… who I am. What am I?"
I frowned, trying to process it. "What do you mean… what are you? Or who are you?"
He didn't answer immediately, just kept walking beside me, silent. The weight of his words hung between us, heavy and unspoken.
Despite the intimidating presence, the heavy scent, and the scarred, towering figure beside me, he is so… I don't know how to describe him with words. He makes me feel a strange need. Every time I look at him or hear his voice, it makes me feel like I want to protect him, which is stupid considering the fact that the guy looks like he was built like a weapon.
_____
After walking for an hour in silence, Sebastian and I finally returned to the back of the packhouse. The air had cooled as evening settled in, carrying the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the pack house. I couldn't shake the question that had hung between us all walk: why had his family had to leave the Grayson Pack? The cryptic answer he gave earlier—"because of who I am. What I am"—kept replaying in my mind, like a puzzle I couldn't solve.
I made my way upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me. The silence was comforting yet heavy, the kind that gives your thoughts room to twist and spiral. I sighed and opened my laptop, pulling out my textbooks and notes. Some assignments, programming projects, and study guides—they were supposed to keep me focused. But my attention kept drifting back to him, to the way he had let me lead on our walk, to the subtle warmth beneath his otherwise intimidating presence.
I tapped a pen against my notebook and muttered under my breath. "Focus, Elias. You have work to do." I tried diving into coding exercises, building simple programs, and testing logic sequences, but my mind wouldn't let go of Sebastian. I kept wondering why he had frozen when I asked about leaving the pack, why he seemed so careful with his words. I shook my head, trying to concentrate on the lines of code, but each keystroke felt sluggish, as if my brain refused to fully engage.
Then there was a knock at the door. My pulse quickened. The scent hit me first—sharp, intoxicating, a mix of dominance and something scarier beneath it. "…Come in," I called, trying to keep my voice calm despite my curiosity.
The door opened, and there he stood—Sebastian. Shy, hesitant, hands brushing lightly against his leather jacket. He avoided eye contact, looking almost small despite his enormous frame. "…Um… you're… your dad," he murmured. "He told me to come here."
I blinked. "He… told you to come here? To my room?"
He nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor. I smiled softly. "Oh, hey. Come on in."
He stepped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. I tilted my head. "You can close it—it's fine."
He hesitated, then slowly shut it. I didn't comment, letting the silence fill the space for a moment as he walked toward the desk. His hands toyed nervously with the edges of his jacket, the motion small but telling. He stopped, looking unsure, and I smiled at him.
"You should sit down," I said gently.
He nodded quickly. "Yeah… of course." He settled into the chair beside me, still avoiding eye contact. His large frame seemed almost too big for the small desk area, and I couldn't help but notice how careful he was with his movements, as if trying not to dominate the space.
I glanced at the small chain around his neck. "Your necklace is really nice."
For a moment, his tense shoulders relaxed. His lips curved into a shy smile. "…Really? It's one of my favorites."
I leaned forward slightly, curious. "Really. Does it… belong to a girlfriend?"
He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. "…No. It's mine. I bought it. I know it's a little… girly, but I thought it looked nice." He glanced up briefly at me, clearly unsure how I'd react.
I grinned, shaking my head. "Nothing wrong with that. I like it. People should wear what they like, regardless of who made it for." I leaned back slightly, letting the words sink in, seeing a flicker of relief pass through him. The tension in his posture softened just a little, and it made me smile.
We lingered in the silence for a moment, both of us studying each other in our own ways. I noticed the way his long black hair fell over his shoulders, the subtle way he moved his hands when he spoke, the slight pause before his responses, as if carefully weighing every word. There was something so oddly endearing about it—the contrast between the intimidating presence and the shy, careful mannerisms.
"I guess I've always liked things like this," he admitted softly, tapping the necklace. "Small pieces, little details. They feel… nice."
I nodded, leaning closer. "I get that. I do the same sometimes. I've got a few pieces myself, some that are considered for women, but… I like them." I got up and opened my little collection, showing him a few necklaces and bracelets. "See? It doesn't matter who it's meant for. It's the meaning, not the label."
He leaned in slightly, eyes flicking over the pieces with a small, appreciative smile. "They're… really nice."
I picked up a bottle of perfume from my desk. "And this one smells nice too." I held it toward him.
He sniffed lightly. "…Yeah. It smells good. But… your natural scent… It's better."
I blinked. The words hit me like a small shockwave. His massive frame, his sharp, intimidating features, his face turned red as he stumbled over his words. "…No… I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I didn't mean it like that. I…"
I laughed softly, raising a hand. "It's okay, Sebastian. I know what you mean. You mean… natural scents are better than anything humans make, right?"
He nodded quickly, still flustered, his face still blushing. "Yes! Yes, exactly that."
I couldn't help but smile, charmed by the sweetness of it. It was refreshing, seeing someone so commanding yet so gentle. I leaned slightly closer, curiosity getting the better of me. "…Hey, Sebastian. Can I ask… what are you? Your rank? I genuinely can't tell."
He froze, body stiffening slightly. Eyes darting momentarily to the floor before he returned his gaze downward. I could feel the weight of the question pressing on him. Whatever his answer was, it would reveal so much about him, yet he seemed so conflicted about giving it.