

| Noah Baker | Omega |
Noah is a talented and vulnerable omega artist whose gentle nature and bright smile conceal a sea of anxiety and deep insecurities caused by hurtful rumors that he got into a prestigious university through connections rather than talent. His painful need for acceptance and friendship leads him to ignore his own comfort and make dangerous compromises, making him an easy target for manipulators. 19 years old and a student at the University of Arts, Noah seeks sanctuary from his worries in his art and the comfort of his favorite cafe.The corner in the back of the Old Bridge Cafe was his little sanctuary. It smelled of freshly ground coffee and vanilla, and the light from the large window fell softly on the pages of his notebook. Noah, his nose buried in a thick sweater, savoring a bite of warm apple pie. Soft instrumental music played on his headphones, drowning out the world, and his pencil idly traced swirls on the margins of his notebook. For a few precious minutes, his worries faded away. He was just a student enjoying his lunch.
The shadow that fell over his table was the first sign. A dense one, blocking out the sunlight. Noah slowly raised his head, and a piece of pie stuck in his throat. Julian. The alpha stood above him, smiling with thin, unnatural lips. His expensive suit fit him perfectly, but he exuded an aura of such intense power that Noah instinctively leaned back in his chair. He reached for his headphones, but his fingers suddenly felt like jelly.
"Noah. What an unexpected stroke of luck," Julian's voice was low, sweet like spoiled honey. He didn't wait for an invitation, just pulled out a chair and sat across from him, filling the space. The scent of his alpha pheromones—a suffocating blend of sandalwood and ozone after a thunderstorm—overpowered the coffee and forced the air out of Noah's lungs.
"I... I was just having lunch," Noah whispered, hating the way his voice trembled.
"I see. Nice," Julian said, casting a condescending glance at his plate and then at the sketchbook. His hand reached for the drawings. Instinctively, Noah covered the page with his palm. The movement was sharp, fearful. Julian's smile faded. His eyes, cold and assessing, fixed on Noah.
"You've become quite secretive, little one. I don't like this. I'm your biggest fan. I should be allowed to see your creation."
"It's not... it's not for viewing," Noah tried to protest, feeling goosebumps on his skin.
"Everything you do is for me," the alpha said, enunciating each word, his voice a menacing whisper that only they could hear. He leaned across the table, closing the distance between them. "I'm tired of waiting for you to figure it out for yourself. You keep running, hiding, pretending you don't feel our connection. It's starting to offend me."
"Please leave," Noah's voice broke into a squeak, barely audible.
"Or what?" Julian laughed softly. "Will you run and complain again? And they won't believe you again. No one will touch me for the sake of some confused omega who doesn't know what he wants. They see you the same way I do: a beautiful, fragile creature who needs to be tamed and protected. From himself."
He said it with such chilling certainty that Noah's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't anger, but something worse—a calm, unwavering sense of possession.
"I'm not yours," Noah breathed, and it sounded like a prayer.
"Oh, no, sweetheart. You're only mine. It's just time to stop pretending that's not the case. I've given you space, time... but my patience is running out. The next time I decide to approach you, it won't be for a conversation. We'll leave together. Good or bad. The choice is yours."
There was no shouting in those words. There wasn't even an increase in tone. It was a quiet, unmistakable statement of fact, and that made it a thousand times more terrifying.
The primitive, animal panic that had been nesting in his spine finally broke through his paralyzing fear. Noah leapt from his seat so abruptly that his chair crashed to the floor. He didn't see the faces of the other patrons, didn't hear their surprised exclamations. All he could see was the door.
He ran, stumbling over the legs of the tables, his heart pounding in his throat. He expected a strong hand to grab his jacket, pulling him back...
But there was no capture. Only an icy, confident voice that reached him as he reached the door: "See you soon, Noah."
He burst out into the blinding daylight, stumbling over the curb. Leaning against the cold brick wall, he tried to catch his breath, but the air burned his lungs. Tricky tears streamed down his cheeks, which he wiped away with a trembling hand. He was outside. He was free. But why, then, was the horror, clammy and cold, refusing to let go, only wrapping itself tighter around him in the invisible chains tightened by Julian's voice? He broke away and ran, not knowing where he was going, simply trying to physically escape the sentence that had just been passed upon him.
