Page 14 of My Freshman Mate
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I try to make myself smaller, less visible. Meanwhile, Wes walks like he owns the place—head high, totally confident. Either he doesn't notice everyone staring or, more likely, he's just used to it.
Then I see her. Zoe, the friendly omega from orientation yesterday. She's walking toward us, a bright smile on her face. Her eyes meet mine, and her smile widens in recognition.
"Hey, Statistics Guy!" she calls out.
My entire body freezes in mortification.
Her friendly gaze slides from me to Wes, then to the possessive hand he has clamped on my hip, then, finally, to the angry red bite mark on my neck.
Her smile doesn't just falter; it vanishes. Her eyes go wide with shock. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. It's a look I'll never forget—a mix of awe, disbelief,and maybe even a little fear. She just stares, and in that moment, I feel like a zoo animal, a specimen pinned under a microscope.
"Everyone's staring," I mutter, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground.
Wes's hand slides from my back to my hip, pulling me even closer to his side. "Let them." His voice is loud enough for Zoe and a dozen other students to hear. "They should know you're taken."
The possessiveness in his tone makes my stomach flip again, but I kind of like it. It's terrifying how quickly I'm adapting to this, how natural it feels to be claimed by him.
"You don't even know my major." It's a last desperate attempt to inject some rationality into this situation.
"Biology. Pre-med track," he answers without missing a beat. "You mentioned it yesterday. And about fifty times this morning under your breath after I fucked you."
I nearly trip over my own feet, heat flooding my face so fast I feel dizzy. "Jesus, Wes! Keep your voice down!"
He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Why? Everyone already knows what that mark on your neck means, Braiden. They can smell me all over you."
As if to emphasize his point, his thumb brushes against the claiming bite, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I suck in a sharp breath, my steps faltering.
"That's not fair," I protest weakly.
He smiles, looking way too satisfied with himself. "Never said I'd play fair."
We reach my dorm building, a red-brick monstrosity that suddenly seems a lot less appealing than it did yesterday. Wes holds the door open for me, his other hand never leaving my body as we step inside.
I breathe a sigh of relief when we find the lobby empty, but then we reach my floor and—great. Toby, my RA, is standingin the hallway, clipboard in hand. His head snaps up as we approach, his eyes widening behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
"Braiden?" Toby's gaze snags on my neck, his own scent sharpening with surprise. "You didn't come back last night. I was about to file a missing student report."
"I was…" I trail off. How am I supposed to explain this?Sorry, I was busy getting claimed by my fated mate…
"He was with me," Wes states, his voice flat. "And now we're here to get his things."
Toby straightens, his clipboard clutched to his chest like a shield. "There's a procedure for moving out," he says, his voice taking on that overly formal tone I recognize from yesterday. "You need to fill out the proper forms, schedule a room inspection, return your key—"
Wes doesn't say a word. He just stares, utterly still. The air feels heavy suddenly, charged with something I can only describe as raw alpha power. I should be embarrassed by how Wes is acting—all alpha dominance and intimidation. Instead, I feel a weird mix of mortification and… pride? Like watching a force of nature that somehow belongs to me.
Toby's words stutter to a halt. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.
"I, um, that is—" he tries again, but Wes's silence is somehow more intimidating than any shout could be.
A sudden blast of electric guitar from down the hall breaks the tension, so loud I swear the walls are vibrating. Toby jumps, his clipboard slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor.
"For God's sake," he mutters, bending to retrieve it. "That's the third time today. I've already written him up twice."
Wes uses the distraction to guide me past Toby, his hand firm on my lower back as we continue down the hall to my room. I glance back to see Toby hesitating, clearly torn between following us and dealing with the noise violation.
The music wins out. With a frustrated sigh, Toby turns and marches toward the source of the sound, calling out, "Jionni! This is your final warning!"
"That was… intense," I murmur as we reach my door. My hands shake as I fish the key from my pocket.
