Alex's p.o.v
She informed her friends about her findings, they were aware of the process, and they offered her their places whenever she felt burnout. She did not have to dim her light, she did not celebrate alone, and she love that about her friends. She was once bullied for being top of her class, shamed for not being intelligent just lucky that she's still insecure about it to this day.
"Shit! Did you guys read up on Psychology? Apparently, we're writing from chapter one to fifteen tomorrow." -Lucas
"I hope you started. I sent you a reminder three days ago." -Alex
"Sure. I'm smart. I can probably get at least seventy with just my general knowledge... but I guess I need to study more to at least pass the average mark which is sixty-five. Ideally, I'm aiming for eighty-five with this last-minute prep. What about you, Lex?" -Leo
Alex already knew the material inside out. By some stroke of fate, she had accidentally picked up the psychology textbook in her doctor's waiting room and ended up reading the whole thing. To her surprise, she found it fascinating. That night, she had gone home and connected the dots between the textbook and her class notes. She had schemed up again just last week, as if programming the information into her brain. At this point, even rereading the book felt unnecessary she could recall every page, every definition, every theory.
"Yeah, I'll just go through my notes again tomorrow," she replied casually.
Her friends knew by now her memory was either a blessing or a curse. Compared to Lucas and Leo, she often felt average. They understood concepts, wrestled with ideas, while many argued that she simply remembered.
.
Flashback…
For many years, she was despised for a gift she never asked for. Her intelligence was seen as a threat. People twisted it, some trying to disprove it altogether with unsolicited, unproven, and ineffectual claims whispers fuelled by envy and ignorance. They never saw how hard she worked behind the scenes. Yes, her brain took snapshots of what she read, but she also stopped at nothing to understand what she saw. Memorisation alone wasn't enough she chased comprehension, clarity, and context.
But intelligence aside, she missed the warmth of her mother's touch. For the longest time, it had just been the two of them inseparable. Her mother brought her warm milk on bad days, gave high-fives for every A she earned, and hugged her when things felt impossible. That love became her fuel. The bullies didn't matter only making her mother proud did. Even with barely enough to survive on, she put in the effort, the hours, and the heart.
Then came the dreadful day she presented as an omega. Her mother didn't say a word but the devastation in her eyes said enough. And then, she packed her bags and left. Weeks passed. Nothing. The silence grew louder with every day. Maybe it was Alex's fault. Maybe her mother feared that being an omega meant pregnancy, imprisoned in a mate bond she never chose, abandonment just like her father. Maybe Alex's nature would destroy the "perfect" image they built together.
Months before her mother returned, Alex had already celebrated a birthday alone, completed two years of school, and sorted bills by priority just in case her mom came back. The old woman next door gave her food and kindness, until she too was gone. With the little she had left; she knew she could only survive for another two weeks, max. The electricity bill, rent, school feesthey loomed over her like storm clouds. No miracle came. Asking her teachers or community for help was not an option. They had already judged her, dismissed her. The whispers said she was the problem. Her peers laughed, cruelly suggesting her mom left for the same reason her dad did. She was alone, surviving, sometimes begging just to get by. The judgment turned her heart cold. In her eyes, her kind were animals who'd lost their humanity.
She visited the temple daily. The only place where kindness came without expectation. There, she found cooked meals, clean water, and simple groceries. Still, when her first period came, she had no one. No guidance. Just a temple mat and whispered prayers for her mother to return. Eventually, she did return different. In love. Committed. She brought home a man named Jun. He was rich, generous, and provided for every material thing her mother desired. But love and safety? That stopped being part of the package. Her mother had moved on, and Alex could feel it in her bones.
At first, it felt like Jun was stealing her mother away. But eventually, Alex saw something in her mother's eyes: happiness. And that's when she gave up fighting fate. Instead, she watched. Silently. Two, maybe four months after meeting, they got mated. Fated mates. There was a big reception. Everyone was invited. Alex didn't resent Jun he wasn't the enemy. She simply stood back and observed. And that was before it all started to unravel…
.
No. She cannot be in a relationship. Not when her stance fears memories. Because love wasn't just a feeling anymore it was a risk. A gamble she had already lost once before.
"Alex. Man, we're just kidding. No need to have that dark look on your face."
Were they still talking about Noah? Maybe. Lucas and Leo knew bits and pieces of her past enough to tread lightly. Thankfully, they never forced her to speak about it. After her seventeenth birthday, she'd spent all her savings on suppressants. To them, she was a quiet mystery. But to anyone outside her former pack who were as good as dead to her she was a suspicion at best, a warning sign at worst.
She flinched when a hand landed on her back. Lucas. The simple gesture made her shiver, and she sent him a cold glare without meaning to. He meant well, but touch still startled her. There was nothing she could do about the past except keep walking forward. Still… there was someone an alpha who seemed to clear the storm, even though she knew better than to get close.
"Sorry. I'm just tired," she murmured. "I'll take my leave. Don't worry about this box... I'll deliver it, then head home to sleep."
Without waiting for an answer, she left her best friends behind, needing space to breathe. She handed the class proposals to the professor and gave a polite nod. Her car, old and second-hand, had finally broken down. She'd cabbed to campus today, and last week, she'd made the hard call to let it go. It was costing more than she could afford to fix.