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Call is still unpresented at fifteen.
People normally present around the 11 to 13 mark. Some even as young as 9. To be as old as he is and still without classification is unheard of, and at the very least rare. Rarer than Omegas, even.
Once, Tamara told him what it was like for her when she first presented as an Alpha.
“It was in the middle of a party,” she says. “At the snack table. Some Alpha took the last deviled egg and I just lost it. Nearly ripped the dude’s throat out. Kimiya thought it was hilarious.”
(Call doesn’t understand how you can get into a dominance fight over food, but then he remembers how much Tamara loves her horderves and he decides to keep quiet on the matter)
It takes awhile for Call to figure out what Aaron’s secondary gender is. He can’t smell anyone really (you know, being unpresented and all) and no one ever really talks about it since you’re supposed to just know based off of scent, so when they’re training one day and Jasper makes a mean comment from the sidelines and Aaron outright growls at him with his teeth bared and eyes black, Call is absolutely floored.
“I thought you were a Beta ,” he says incredulously after their group is sent back to their rooms ("Before a fight breaks out” , Master Milagros had said, while Call promptly burst into ugly laughter over the visual of Golden Boy of all people and Jasper duking it out on the training field), while Aaron buries his face in his hands and does his best to emulate a tomato. Tamara won't stop snickering. She’s live-blogging about it on her phone.
Although, it makes sense, really. Aaron’s practically the poster child for the perfect Alpha. Tall, blond, athletic, handsome; you name it. He has the leadership skills to give orders and keep his peers in check but also the fierce protectiveness and responsibility to care for and keep his pack safe. You only won’t notice he’s an Alpha because he doesn’t parade it around like a lot of the obnoxious jerks Call went to middle school with.
(“You’ll never be mated,” the bullies used to taunt him, gnashing their teeth and snapping at him like a pack of wild dogs closing in for the kill. “No one wants a crippled, no-scented loser. You’re going to die alone.”)
Sometimes Call wonders what it’s like to be normal. When he sees everyone else going about their daily lives, he wonders what he’s missing. If he’ll ever form bonds with other people. If he’ll ever find a place where he truly belongs.
“I’m sure you’ll present soon,” Aaron says, because that’s all anyone ever says whenever they find out that Call’s still unpresented. “A late bloomer”, they call him. “A mistake”, he hears instead. Just another unfortunate playing card dealt in the unfair game that is Callum Hunt, the cripple, the freak; the Enemy of Death. And now he can add unpresented fuck up to the list too.
“Well, you could be an Alpha,” Celia tells him one day when they’re paired up for an exercise (it’s something that neither of them want, but are forced to go along with) and the Omega girl twirls a strand of curly hair around her finger while smiling in Jasper’s direction. “I mean, Aaron’s an Alpha, and he’s the Makar. And now you’re also a Makar. It makes sense.”
(Right. Because the Makar has to be an Alpha. Clearly.)
He wonders what would happen if he just presented as a Beta. Or, better yet, he never presents at all and he’s just stuck on the outside of society like some sort of visiting alien life-form. Only he’s not visiting, he’s forced to stay and pretend to be like the other earthlings until he dies so they never suspect a thing.
To be honest, he hopes he presents as an Alpha. With Aaron and Tamara both being Alphas, it’s hard to see himself as anything but inferior being the way that he is.
Although, it’s an interesting dynamic. With two Alphas and Call (who at this point’s “scent” resembles a pup’s more than anything else), they surely make an odd group, but their pack works out anyhow. Tamara and Aaron rarely get into fights. They argue more with Call than with each other, which is kind of amazing considering they’re both dominant types.
Of course, he can’t scent them, but they can scent him, and every once in awhile they’ll rub their faces on his head in a familial gesture that ensures he’s part of the pack. It’s nice of them to treat him like he’s part of something, even when he can’t participate properly.
(During Copper year Jasper worms his way into their pack somehow. Call’s learned to accept it. Aaron hasn’t yet. He still growls inaudibly at him whenever he enters their common area)
It’s a bit unconventional, but when has Call ever really played by the rules? He likes things the way they are now. He likes his friends, his pack, his school, and even his teachers. He has fun. He lives life. Everything’s chill.
But then Silver year rolls around. And everything goes to shit.
It all starts with the symptoms. You typically hear kids talking about how angry they were the week before they first presented as Alphas and how everything suddenly made sense once their scent came in. Like, oh, that’s why I wanted to rip that kid’s throat out! It wasn’t actually because he looked at me wrong in the hallway, it’s because my stupid Alpha brain is overheating from shitty Alpha pheromones!
For Call, it’s...different. Which is probably why he doesn’t notice the signs until it’s too late
- Suddenly feeling all mushy and gushy inside and hugging his friends way more than usual (read: like, at all) and spending way too much time cuddling with his actual wolf on the couch like he’s a fluffy lapdog (Aaron finds him two hours after classes have begun with Havoc laying on top of him and panting obliviously with his stupid dog smile)
- Approximately 47 mood swings that vary from excessive grumpiness and sarcasm to almost murdering Rafe with a spork when his fidget spinner lands in his lichen, to almost actually crying when Kai shows him a picture of a Shiba dog in a cowboy hat with the caption “y’all’d’ve” underneath it (to actually crying about it later when everyone’s asleep)
- Literally snatching all of his friends’ things from their rooms when they’re not looking and stuffing it under his pillow (like, seriously, he’s been stealing all of Aaron’s dirty laundry and hoarding it in his room like a creep because for some reason it’s a lot warmer and more appealing than blankets okay??)
At some point Aaron and Tamara try to corner him and ask why he’s acting like a total freak all of a sudden, but they don’t get very far before Call’s yelling at them and then slamming his bedroom door shut and sitting against it feeling every hair on his body standing on end, waiting for an attack. He feels closed in and skittish and like his body is trapping him. There are red lines up and down his arms from where he dragged his nails across the skin, trying to claw his way out.
Tamara suggests he goes to the nurse. He suggests she goes and fucks right off. But when Aaron growls at him warningly, Call feels so hurt by it all-- because why are his friends turning against him why why why -- that he runs off and hides for the whole day while everyone else goes to lessons. That skittish feeling comes back once he’s all alone in the dark, but he just chalks it up to hormones and assumes he’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.
It isn’t until he’s curled up on the common room floor feeling like he’s been stabbed in the intestines four hundred times and then eaten alive by fire ants that he realizes that maybe he should’ve gone to the doctor. Or something.
Oh god , he thinks over and over as more and more waves of pain wash over his body, I was just kidding when I said I wanted to die all those times before. I’m not ready yet.
There’s a terribly sickly sweet smell stinking up the entire room (like roses and dirt and freshly fallen rain which would be pleasant in doses but all at once just makes him want to puke) and a strange pressure building in his lower abdomen that may or may not be gas, but he has no idea what’s happening--all he knows is that he’s scared and alone and he’s going to die right here and no one’s going to find his body until he’s rotted away and they can’t even identify who he is anymore--
And then, of course, Jasper chooses this moment to bust into the room.
“Tamara!,” he calls, striding in, and Call is assaulted with all sorts of intrusive thoughts such as (but not limited to) empty, need to be full, it hurts, Jasper?, what, when Jasper finally catches sight of his mortal frenemy curled up on the floor in a fetal position barely keeping himself awake from the pain. His pupils dilate.
And then Call throws up. A lot.
It’s all fuzzy from there. He vaguely remembers a lot of shouting and someone waving their hand in front of his face before he’s suddenly engulfed by warmth and the smell of clean laundry and air freshener (more shouting, this time angrier and multiplied by two as more people enter the room), and being lifted up in the air by some invisible force. He blacks out.
He wakes up in his room. Jasper’s sitting at the foot of his bed looking thoroughly pissed off and stressed and exhausted all at once. Although nothing could compare to the complete agony Call is feeling right now.
He acquires the sudden urge to inform Jasper about this.
“I’m dying,” Call whispers despondently.
“Shut the hell up,” says Jasper.
“But I’m dying! ” He holds back another groan of pain as his insides clench in agony. Oh god, his stomach is falling out. His lungs are collapsing. Everything is crumbling apart.
“Stop being so dramatic, it’s just your Heat,” Jasper spits out in disgust and pushes his face away so he rolls across the bed like an egg. “And it hasn’t even started yet, so shut up.”
“My...Heat?,” he asks, extremely confused and barely coherent. He doesn’t really know where he is right now. Or who he is. It’s been kind of a wild night.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what it is. You can’t be that stupid.” When Call doesn’t answer, he sighs angrily. “Your Heat. Or pre-heat, whatever. I’ve dealt with too many of these already, I have like five Omega sisters. Why can’t I ever catch a break?”
Call shivers uncontrollably. He hasn’t felt this sick since he was eight and decided camping out all night in the middle of February would toughen up his cold tolerance so he could move to Alaska (it worked, but also gave him mild hypothermia), but he can’t tell if the freezing quality of his skin is because of his fever or because of the terror that is suddenly wracking his body as Jasper’s words sink in.
He blacks out again.
The second time he wakes up he’s considerably more awake and less “fever-dream-esque” as he sits up and blinks around the room. Or, attempts to sit up, only to find his arms and legs bound to his sides in a giant cocoon of blankets.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Jasper says, placing a bookmark into a comic book that is clearly Call’s. “How do you feel?”
He tries to say “what is going on?”, but only manages a strained, “Nnghh.” instead. Jasper appears distinctly unimpressed.
“Just to be clear,” he says. “If it weren’t for me coming in and finding you when I did, you’d probably be Alpha food right about now, so you’re welcome. Also, you’re a dumbass. Why didn’t you go to the nurse?”
“Didn’t know I was sick,” he croaks out. “Why am I covered in blankets?”
“Need to keep you warm,” he explains. “And you’re not sick. I already told you, you’re going through your Heat.” He stands and stretches, and Call notices how fucked up his hair looks now that he hasn’t been in access to a comb in a few hours time. “Honestly, I was surprised. I didn’t know you were an Omega. You don’t really look like it.”
“I’m not,” he hisses. “This is just a big misunderstanding. I just have the flu or something.”
Jasper gives him a long, unconvinced look.
“I’m not an Omega,” Call tells him again, weaker this time, because now he’s starting to smell (like actually smell) the evidence. The rose and rain smell is there, pungent and awful and overbearing, but there’s the smallest undertone of fresh air and freshly folded laundry. Soothing and calm. Just barely there.
Jasper’s scent. A neutral scent, because he’s a Beta.
And Call’s scent, a sweeter scent, because he’s an Omega .
He walks over to Call’s bed, peers over the side. On the ground, poorly hidden by a couple of boxes and his drawer, is a giant pile of clothes and blankets and every other soft thing Call could get his hands on.
“You built a nest,” Jasper says. It isn’t a question.
Call makes a despairing noise and rams his face into the bed. This is so embarrassing, he wants to die.
He continues, “And it’s all Aaron’s clothes?” His face looks like it isn’t sure if it wants to smile or crumple in disgust, which is an interesting look, especially for Jasper.
“Hmph.” Call presses his face deep deep into the comforter hoping it will suffocate and kill him instantly. “It’s not all Aaron’s clothes. Some of your shirts are in there too.” (Why did he say that)
The conversation that ensues is filled with both horror and crippling embarrassment as Jasper stands there for approximately thirty minutes trying to come up with a suitable response to that. He’s a stuttering mess. Call refuses to look at him.
They’re saved when the most hesitant of knocks comes on the door. Call looks over. Jasper tenses.
Something (someone?) whines, but it’s muffled. There’s shuffling, like something is pacing back and forth along the length of Call’s room.
More whining. And scratching at the door. If he didn’t know any better he’d say that it’s Havoc on the other side, but he very distinctly heard a human voice a couple seconds ago.
The scratching stops. Jasper marginally relaxes.
And then jumps when something heavy bumps into the wall on the other side. Call hears snarling and yelling. He tries to get up to look but Jasper grabs him so fast and so roughly that he whimpers (actually whimpers , what the fuck) and snarls, “Are you actually insane? Tamara and Aaron will literally tear you a new one. Sit your ass down before I tie you to the bed.”
Call’s mind immediately goes south and he shuts down that line of thinking fast because nope. Instead he asks, “What are they doing?”
“Trying to get past the guarding spells set up outside your room,” he tells him. “Almost broke down the door earlier when I locked us inside. They’ve totally lost it.”
Call feels like he might cry.
There isn’t much to do when you’re confined to your room, especially when you’re confined to your room with someone who actually hates your guts. They attempt to ignore each other for awhile, but everyone knows as well as Call that Jasper can’t go too long without talking about himself. Agony ensues.
“Why are you still here ,” Call moans eventually, pillows pressed to either side of his head in a valiant attempt to ward off the shit spewing from Jasper’s mouth. “Don’t you have to be narcissistic somewhere else?”
“If I open the door it’s finito for both of us,” Jasper grumbles, clearly put out that Call doesn’t care about how “pretty” Celia’s hair is. “So I’m staying.”
Call doesn’t like the sound of that. “Then how are we supposed to eat?”
“The school knows what’s going on. They’ll send someone to bring us what we need.” (Call really doesn’t like the sound of that--what if there’s an emergency? ) “Stop asking questions, you’re giving me a migraine.”
“So why haven’t they come to rescue you yet?,” he asks anyway.
Jasper sighs and explains, “The Masters have appointed me to help you during your heat,” and Call immediately goes red as a tomato because, um .
He may not know much about Omegas, but everyone knows what goes down during an Omega’s Heat. It’s not PG13 friendly, that’s for certain. Jasper just rolls his eyes and groans.
“I’m helping you with your pre-heat, idiot,” he clarifies, but also looks a little flushed. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Call doesn’t know what “pre-heat” entails, but it sounds like a button on a conventional oven. “Explain.”
He knows about mating cycles thanks to sixth grade health class and hushed whispers of older boys in the gym locker rooms, but he’s never really read up on Heat and Rut cycles, since he’s always been convinced that if he does present, it would be as a Beta. But apparently both Omegas and Alphas have certain times every year where their bodies are hardwired to have babies. The week before a heat is an Omega’s body preparing for when the actual heat hits.
“Basically you’re gonna cry and be in pain a lot for a week,” he sums up, like that’s supposed to make him feel better or something. “And then after that you’re hella horny and aggressive and you’ll be pumping out Omega pheromones for miles, which is very dangerous, so the Masters put scent-blocking spells on your door to make sure every Alpha in school doesn’t lose it like Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum out there.”
As if on cue, a pitiful whine emanates from the other side of the door. Jasper kicks it. Whoever’s on the other side yelps in pain.
Call shivers. “Why are they acting like that? They know me. They wouldn’t-”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re best friends; they’re Alphas and you’re an Omega in heat and they’ll only see you as such until your heat stops,” he says harshly.
Call doesn’t say anything to that.
About an hour later Master Rufus ends up entering the room. He looks the same, but with him comes the smell of citrus and Autumn and Call feels his eyes bugging out of his head in shock.
“You’re an Omega?,” he rasps and swears he hears Jasper snort in the background.
Master Rufus doesn’t appear offended by his disbelief. He just smiles tiredly and says, “And so are you, it seems.”
That sentence alone is what sets him off. He starts sobbing.
He doesn’t know why, he just suddenly has a lot of emotions bubbling up over the surface and he can’t stop the loud sobs wracking his body, even as Jasper shoots him a look of pure panic like he’s not sure how to handle this and Master Rufus puts a consoling hand on his shoulder.
(Through the snot and tears he can hear that the other side of the door has fallen suspiciously silent)
Master Rufus carefully explains what he should expect during his first Heat (while Jasper’s face continues to grow redder and redder with each sentence) and what he should do to stave off some of the pain he’ll be experiencing from now on. He suggests he asks an Alpha or Beta friend to loan him some objects with their scent on them (Call, wisely, decides not to bring up the nest), to help with some of his “urges” (here, Call pretends not to know the true meaning of that phrase and just nods along numbly).
There’s one thing that he can’t take lying down though.
“Every three months? ,” Call exclaims, then tries to sit up, but Jasper pushes him back down again. “That’s so unfair! Aren’t there, like, pills I can take?”
“Of course. But taking them during your first heat is extremely dangerous.” He says this like Call will actually listen, which everyone involved knows is factually incorrect. “I’d advise you not to take any pills until after your first four heats, just to be safe. Male Omegas are very rare. We have to be a lot more careful about how we treat our bodies.”
Call does not want to hear anything about his body. He knows what it’s for ( making babies ugh ), but if you think he’s suddenly going to be acting like the proper little Omega he’s meant to be to please some stupid fucking Alpha , then you’re going to be sorely disappointed because fuck that .
He tells this to Master Rufus, who just shakes his head. He says that no one expects him to. Before he leaves he hands Jasper a basket of various food items like lichen and some good ol’ moss while Call’s stomach despairs because he was kind of hoping for more along the lines of pizza and kids cuisine.
“Mister deWinter, I trust that I can leave this in your hands without worry?”
Jasper puffs up his chest. “You can count on me, sir.”
“Good.” He eyes the two of them warily. “Stay safe. Drink lots of fluids. Try not to kill each other.”
When Call wakes up the next day he feels abandoned .
There’s no other way to describe the crushing loneliness constricting around his heart, but it’s there, and he’s anxious, and he needs something to cuddle fast before he has a panic attack and throws up again.
Jasper blinks up at him blearily from the military cot on the floor, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Whassgoinon,” he grunts, hair a mess, and something in Call’s brain clicks and goes this is a perfectly suitable solution to this problem , and then he’s dragging Jasper by the shirt to the other side of the bed while the other boy kicks and yells like he’s being kidnapped.
He drops both of them into his nest and sits there contently like nothing’s wrong while Jasper rants and raves at him because you can’t do that Call, what the fuck you scared the shit out of me!
After Jasper’s ranting is spent and the only noise in the room is his angry breathing, Call decides that this is the perfect opportunity to rest his head on his shoulder. So he does.
The taller boy tenses. It’s enough to momentarily snap Call out of whatever deluded Omega hallucination spell he was going through just then (because there’s no way he’d cuddle with Jasper willingly , nope, no sir) and he almost pulls away.
But then Jasper relaxes against him. Then awkwardly pats his head like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing with his hands (Call doesn’t really mind; he finds it soothing). They sit there for awhile, Jasper petting his hair and Call breathing in his scent, and there’s a strange rumbling noise coming from his chest that kind of sounds like purring, but he’s too far gone to really feel embarrassed about that right now.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with me,” he whimpers after a moment, suddenly feeling like the worst person in the world. “I know you don’t really like me. Not a lot of people do. But I’m just so happy that you’re being so nice to me.” His voice cracks at the last word and then he’s crying again.
But then Jasper tells him it’s no problem, he doesn’t mind helping out a friend, which of course only makes him cry harder. He spends the rest of the day blubbering about how glad he is that Jasper doesn’t hate him anymore, while Jasper rubs consoling circles into his back.
(It doesn’t last long. Call’s mood makes a complete U-turn around noon and suddenly everything’s uncomfortable and wrong and he makes Jasper sit on the other side of the room facing the wall so he doesn’t have to look at his face while he takes another nap)
Around dinner time the two Alphas outside the room start acting up again. At this point Jasper and Call are trying to drown out the noise by playing monopoly and blasting Taylor Swift from Call’s laptop, but to no avail. Call’s already taken his comforter and wrapped it around himself like a tiny igloo of soft. Despite this, he’s still shaking.
There has to be some sort of dominance battle going on outside the room right now. The briefest whiff of angry Alpha pheromones somehow makes its way into the room and Call almost chokes on how thick and suffocating it is. That invasive feeling comes creeping back and tears well up in his eyes and Jasper walks over and bangs a fist hard on the door and screams, “SHUT UP!”
The noises stop. Call is thankful.
On the third day Jasper says, “I can’t get you coffee,” and Call launches a stalagmite at his head.
The other boy expertly dodges it and every other object Call chucks at him while simultaneously maintaining the most monotonous expression he’s ever seen on a human being. That somehow only manages to piss Call off even more and he snarls and pounds the bed like a pup throwing a tantrum.
“Are you done,” Jasper says flatly and he just looks. So tired.
Call’s not really sure why he’s so mad, but it’s probably Jasper’s fault. Everything’s Jasper’s fault. He hates him.
(But then again, when the other students are training somewhere in the caverns and a loud explosion shakes the room, Call immediately makes a beeline for Jasper and buries his face in his chest, because that shit is loud )
That night Call wakes up with his heart racing and panic coursing through his veins from a nightmare he can’t remember. Jasper immediately blinks awake (most likely startled out of sleep by all of the distressed Omega pheromones permeating the room) and calms him down with some solid pats on the head. Call catches his arm before he can escape and makes him sleep in the bed with him. He only complains a little.
“I think I’m okay to go out,” he says on the fourth day and Jasper doesn’t even try to stop him, just lets him bypass through the door with his blankets draped over his shoulders like a cape.
He sits on the couch. Jasper sits next to him and turns on the TV. They’re watching some weird show about aliens (and gemstones? what?), when Tamara emerges nearly silently from her room.
Call notices her scent immediately. It’s a lot nicer than it was before, more earthy and less heavy. When he turns to look at her from his blanket fort they make eye-contact and her eyes grow impossibly wide with some sort of primal emotion.
“Don’t even think about it,” Jasper warns, holding up a newspaper. “I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”
There’s a tense moment when Call thinks she might actually try it, but then she just slinks further into the room and stands by the mini fridge, all the while never breaking her stare.
(Call feels like he should look away, but then again maybe not, but then again maybe he should? He kind of wants to ask Jasper but he’s too afraid to break the silence)
Tamara watches him intently from the kitchen while Jasper keeps an eye on her from the couch. She asks him, “Are you hungry?”
Call barely lifts his shoulder in a shrug but she’s already racing over to place something on the table in front of him, before wincing and backing off slowly when Jasper half-rises from the couch with the rolled-up newspaper held threateningly in the air.
It’s a granola bar. With chocolate. Call almost starts crying again.
“Where did you even get that?,” Jasper asks, disgusted, but lets Call open and eat it with small, thoughtful bites while Tamara watches him with an expression so intense it spooks Jasper and he makes her go back to her room.
When Call ventures out a second time that night he nearly trips over Aaron, who has somehow come to the conclusion that camping outside of Call’s door while he sleeps is a perfectly reasonable activity to partake in.
It’s almost sort of adorable the lengths Aaron goes to keep him safe, but he suspects it would be a lot more effective if Aaron was actually awake while guarding his door. Call carefully steps over his snoring form and pads over to the bathroom.
Once he’s done peeing and washes his hands, he ventures out of the bathroom down the hall back to his room. But he stops in his tracks when he makes eye contact with a very awake Aaron.
The other boy is half-risen from the ground, frozen in place, green eyes gleaming ferally in the moonlight. Neither of them move. Alarm bells are going off big time in Call’s head, and while a good portion of him is going It’s just Aaron, it’s okay, he wouldn’t do anything , another more rational part of him is saying that’s not Aaron, that’s an Alpha and you need to get the hell out of here right now.
A couple of tense seconds pass and Call’s heart continues to beat so hard that he’s afraid Aaron will hear it. He looks terrifying like this, all shadows and sharp features and a hungry gaze that makes Call’s blood freeze with both fear and anticipation.
“Aaron?,” he whispers cautiously, gripping the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
The terrifying gleam in his eye dims a little bit. Call sags in relief.
“Where did you go?,” he asks, and his voice sounds strained and scratchy like he hasn’t had anything to drink for awhile. Call wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Who knows how long he’s been outside the door.
“Bathroom,” he responds. He shuffles uneasily from foot to foot.
“Oh.”
An awkward pause. Aaron looks like he wants to say something, although what, Call has no idea. They just kind of stare at each other.
And then Jasper’s head pokes out from the room and Call’s heart jumps into his throat. He narrows his eyes at the both of them.
“I’d wrap this up quickly if I were you, young man,” he says threateningly. Call is certain he has the newspaper poised for action behind the door.
Call nods. “Goodnight,” he tells Aaron, then walks carefully past him to the door.
“Goodnight,” Aaron says softly.
He feels Aaron’s gaze on his back even as the door closes behind him.
His Heat hits on the fifth day.
It’s not as bad as Jasper makes it out to be-it’s worse. Call already knew beforehand that the first Heat is always the most rough, but he doesn’t expect it to be like this . It’s just...bad.
(He’d rather not go into detail, if it’s all the same to you. Let’s just say that there’s a lot of discomfort and, true to name, unbearable heat that courses through his body and makes it feel like his blood is on fire. By the time it’s over, every blanket has been kicked off his bed and the thermostat’s been turned down to arctic temperatures, and Call vows that from now on he’s taking pills no matter what Master Rufus says because there’s no way in hell he’s doing that again)
The Masters let him out of his room once he’s deemed healthy enough, and Tamara and Aaron instantly mob him before he can properly step outside, hugging and petting him like they haven’t seen each other in three thousand years. Jasper just glances up at him from the couch and waves like it’s causing him immense pain. Call grins at him.
The four of them head off to dinner, laughing and joking like they always do, but now instead of walking side-by-side, Aaron walks in front and Tamara behind Call like they’re unconsciously trying to keep him hidden from everyone else. Jasper just pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.
Every Alpha in the vicinity stares at him when he walks into the cafeteria, but Call feels pretty safe with his own Alpha bodyguards boxing him in and growling at anyone who gets too close.
When they sit down he makes sure Jasper sits next to him, Aaron on the other side, and Tamara across from him. At the other table adjacent to them, Celia is busy stabbing a fork violently into her moss. She keeps glaring at Call every few seconds.
“What’s up with her?,” he asks, nibbling on some gray lichen, and Aaron immediately stands up and upright hisses at her, pupils wide. Celia blanches and quickly leaves the cafeteria.
Gwenda approaches the table. “She’s mad at you.”
“Why?,” he asks. “I didn’t do anything to her.” Recently , he thinks.
“Yeah, well, Celia thinks you fucked her boyfriend,” Gwenda says rather unhelpfully, and Jasper starts to choke on his lichen.
And in Call’s still half-delirious state, all he can feel is a strange sort of satisfaction about the whole thing, and he finds himself uttering a very firm, “Good.”, which only sets Jasper off again.