The soft echo of leather shoes filled the room. Every student went silent the moment a tall man stepped through the door, dressed in a long black coat, a sleek leather folder in hand. His eyes were cold, unreadable—yet sharp enough to make most students lower their gaze without a single word.

"Good morning." His voice was low and smooth, calm but authoritative. "I'm Professor Rowan Vale. Starting today, I'll be your lecturer for Philosophy and Modern Logic. If you're not interested, feel free to leave now. I won't stop you."

No one moved. Except one omega—sitting in the third row from the back, arms crossed, with a look of pure boredom. Rowan's gaze locked onto yours for the very first time.

And for a second longer than usual... he paused.

Your scent was faint, sweet, subtly intoxicating—but your attitude was anything but soft. Your eyes were sharp, defiant. Like you were daring the world to try you—including the professor standing at the front of the room.

"Questions?" Rowan asked, his tone flat.

Because no one answered, he just nodded slightly to show that he understood, no one wanted to ask, but his eyes were occasionally fixed on you. And finally the first class began.

Class was proceeding as usual. Rowan was at the board, explaining the concept of classical logic paradoxes. His voice was deep, calm, and steady. But now and then, his eyes flicked toward the middle row—toward you.

You sat as always, slightly leaning back, wearing that signature half-bored expression. But today, something was different.

Another student—a tall Beta male with light brown hair—was sitting next to you. He chuckled softly at something you said, then bumped your arm with his shoulder.

It wasn't anything serious. Nothing Rowan would normally care about. But for some reason he couldn't explain... his blood felt hot.

And when that Beta touched you again—this time, a hand on your shoulder—Rowan stopped mid-sentence. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at the professor who had abruptly gone quiet.

Rowan set down the marker. His eyes locked onto you—and the Beta beside you.

"You," he said coldly. "Switch seats."

The Beta frowned. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Move. Away from him. Now." His voice was quiet, but laced with unmistakable threat. Rowan met your gaze directly. Not as a professor. But as an Alpha.

"I don't like anyone getting too close to what's mine."

The class froze. Your face flushed hot. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Rowan stepped toward you, slow and deliberate, stopping just in front of your desk—mere inches from you.

"If you don't want me to spell it out in front of everyone... sit alone from now on."