Emma's POV
I stumbled back, my books slipping from my hands. The thud echoed in the nearly empty hallway.
I didn't need to look up to know who it was. His unmistakable scent hit me immediately. The Alpha's son.
The sharpness of cedarwood and pine clung to him, mixed with something darker and more dominant. My stomach twisted in knots as I froze in place.
The urge to disappear into the ground gripped me. I couldn't face him. Not like this.
"I—I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely there as I crouched to gather my books, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor. Maybe if I didn't meet his gaze, he wouldn't feel the need to acknowledge me. Or worse, humiliate me.
Logan didn't respond. His silence was more terrifying than words. I could feel his eyes on me, probably wondering why I was born so ugly.
My pulse thudded in my ears and I didn't wait for his reaction. I picked the last of my books, slipping past him as quickly as I could without looking back.
By the time I reached the corner of the hallway, I was practically gasping for air. My chest felt tight, and my legs trembled as I pressed my back against the wall, trying to steady myself. I exhaled slowly, forcing my breathing to calm down.
"Just breathe," I muttered to myself, forcing my eyes shut. "You're okay. He didn't say anything. The Alpha's son will forget about your ugly acne and scars. Heck! He wouldn't even remember you exist."
But the truth was, I wasn't okay. I never was. Not when everyone here saw me as less than human.
The hallways were clearing now and the other students rushed down to meet their parents waiting in sleek, expensive cars.
I could see them from the windows, the flash of shiny black sedans and polished sports cars, all lined up in front of the school. They were all from Beta and Gamma families. People who would sneer at someone like me if they even noticed I existed.
I leaned my head back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shake off the fear.
I hated this. I always lived in constant dread of what might happen if I crossed the wrong person, if I said the wrong thing. But that was life for an Omega in this pack.
When I finally felt like it was safe enough to move, I stepped out of the corner and headed toward the exit. The school courtyard was mostly empty now, with only a few students walking around, chatting and laughing. I kept my head down, avoiding their gazes as I walked.
And then, I saw it…a sleek, black Porsche parked at the curb.
My stomach dropped. I recognized that car immediately. It was Beta Thompson's. My stepfather. The one who barely acknowledged my existence unless it was to remind me of how much of a burden I was to him and his precious daughter, Mackenzie.
Of course, they'd come to pick up Mackenzie. My stepsister always had a ride waiting for her. Courtesy of her father, Beta Thompson. But not for me. Never for me.
I stood there for a second too long, just staring at the Porsche, lost in thought. The driver honked, snapping me out of my trance, and I realized I had been standing there like an idiot.
I quickly shuffled over, keeping my gaze low as I approached the car. The driver rolled down the window, but my attention was on the man sitting in the back seat.
"Good afternoon, fa…f..father, Happy birthday t…to you." I muttered, forcing a small, nervous smile. My fingers twitched at my sides. Maybe today would be different. It was his birthday, after all. Maybe he would let me ride with them, just this once.
But as usual, he didn't even bother looking at me. He acted like I wasn't even there.
Before I could dwell on the familiar sting of rejection, I felt a hard shove.
Mackenzie.
She had pushed me aside to get to her father, her perfectly styled blonde hair bouncing as she threw herself into the car. "Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around him in an over-the-top hug, like she hadn't seen him in years.
I stumbled, falling to the ground, my knees scraping against the rough pavement.
By the time I managed to look up, the Porsche had already sped off. My shoulders slumped, and I sighed, wiping my hands on my skirt as I slowly stood up.
At least I'd done my part. I'd greeted them with respect, like I always did.
Just like always, I would have to run after the car and try to get to the mansion in nothing less than five minutes.
Getting to the mansion in less than five minutes was impossible and they knew it.
However, it was part of the rules. If I got there any second late, I got punished.
I was brushing the dirt off my knees when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle pulling up beside me. I didn't even need to look to know who it was. That same scent, strong and unmistakable, hit me before the voice even did.
Was he stalking me?
"I am heading your way. Get on "
I froze. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was sitting on his sleek black bike, staring down at me with an unreadable expression.
"Young master, I..I can't. I'll stain y…your bike," I said quickly, my voice small. The last thing I needed was to make things worse by getting mud on the Alpha's son's pristine bike. Omegas weren't supposed to touch anything that belonged to Alphas.
And Logan…he was the last person I expected to offer me anything but indifference.
He didn't respond immediately. His eyes narrowed, and for a split second, I thought I saw something flash across his face, something that looked almost like frustration. But it was gone just as quickly as it came, replaced with that same cold look he always wore.
"Why are you so stubborn? Get on before I change my mind." he repeated, this time with more force.
I swallowed hard. My legs felt like they were made of lead. I couldn't defy the son of an Alpha, especially not one as important as Logan. Hesitating for a moment, I finally climbed onto the bike, feeling the cool metal under my hands as I awkwardly balanced myself.
What would happen if someone saw me? If I was seen with him, the bullying could get worse. The girls at school were already ruthless. Being seen with Logan would only fuel their cruelty. But defying the son of the Alpha? That was unthinkable.
"Hold on to me," Logan said, his voice a little quieter this time.
I stared at him, shocked. Hold on? To him?
He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking with mine, as if daring me to refuse.
The idea of touching Logan, of placing my hands on his waist, was so foreign that I couldn't even process it at first. He hated me, didn't he?