A delayed response still counted as a response, Darcy figured. So, he bolted.

His backpack was slapping his back with every step as he ran to the the line of buses outside of the school. He hoped that with his pack’s bus usually sitting around the middle, he could lose Luca in the crowd. Just as he was comforting himself with this thought, Luca drew up next to Darcy at a gentle jog.

Darcy was already panting, but he flailed his arms to try and force his body to go even a little faster.

Luca kept pace, with relaxed and even breaths that made Darcy look even more of a maniac in contrast.

He reached his pack bus and slammed his hands into the metal either side of the door like he was signalling a stop of the clock. He didn’t want to know what his time was for that three-hundred metre dash, though. It would no doubt make him feel even worse. Luca was at his back, he could feel the lightest brush of the beta’s breath on the back of his head. He said nothing.

Darcy hesitated at the bottom of the steps leading onto the bus. With a slow, creaky turn of his head, he peeked over his shoulder to gauge what Luca was up to. What evil he was planning. He was still directly behind him, close enough to touch him with his chest, if only he took a deep breath. He was watching him, amber eyes locked on Darcy like missiles.

Darcy lifted one foot, wide-legged like a clown showing off their giant shoes, and placed it hesitantly on the first step. Luca did not move a muscle until the driver barked at Darcy to make a decision: on or off the bus. Darcy jolted, Luca growled, and he shot to the top of the stairs. Luca didn’t stop him. Darcy gave the driver an apologetic smile and hurried down the aisle to pick a seat. He found a set of two unoccupied and slid in next to the window. Luca was stood at the side of the bus, he was still watching him.

Darcy did his best not to look directly at him while he waited for the bus to depart. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Luca's form still there, but it wasn’t until the engine revved and they pulled out of the school car park that he glanced at him properly again. Luca's amber eyes had not left him, they locked onto his own. As he continued to stand stock-still and staring, a shiver ran over Darcy’s skin. Luca's stance reminded him of Michael Myers.

He sat in silence the whole ride home, plodded to his home once they reached their pack lands, and stomped up to his bedroom without greeting his father who was working at his laptop in the kitchen. Darcy threw himself onto his bed, backpack still on, and screamed into his pillow.

MYSTIKA had told him. That crazy fortune teller had ruined Darcy’s life with one piece of card. In less than two months it would be Luca’s eighteenth birthday, but by then Darcy would have enough exams finished that he could call in sick for the last few weeks of the year without his grades plummeting. Then school would be over, and he could easily avoid his bully for the rest of his life. But now his master plan had been ruined by some woman in a sparkly robe.

He rubbed his nose into the pillow and grumbled to himself. He couldn’t go back to school. He couldn’t face Luca. But he would need to come down with something pretty horrendous to warrant four months off sick. And he was proud of his good grades, even if he knew he wouldn’t get to use them once he left school and got put to work in his pack. Omegas did not get to work outside the pack lands, they were almost always PAs to the alpha and their direct family. That role differed from pack to pack, though, some saw their omega as a secretary or a business assistant, others as someone to do their laundry and make them coffee.

Darcy had hoped to find his mate in his own pack, because their alpha family had always treated him kindly. Then when he had experienced his fateful, world-crushing eye-contact with Luca on his birthday, at the very least he had consoled himself that he could stay in his pack forever because there was no way they would be mating or marking.

But what would happen next was a mystery to him. Luca had not reacted even slightly like he’d expected. He hadn’t yelled at him, he hadn’t laughed at him, he hadn’t shoved him or hit him or kicked him. Perhaps he was in shock. Perhaps he didn’t believe it.

Darcy jumped up. That was all he had to do: pretend it wasn’t true.

He let his backpack slide off onto the carpet and began to pace around it as he built his courage up. He could pretend to know nothing. He hadn’t been that bad in the drama classes in primary school, he could pull off blank and brainless. Playing dumb couldn’t be that hard. He only had to do it until his final exams.

He stopped still, squeezing his fingers into his palms. A tiny bit of hope and confidence trickled through him. The plan was simple and there was almost nothing that could go wrong. He could deny it until he was blue in the face and Luca couldn’t prove anything because he hadn’t turned eighteen. All he had was the mad ramblings of a psychic woman on a bit of paper. That wasn’t real proof, and he wouldn’t know for certain until he reached his birthday. By which point, Darcy would have scarpered from school and would be complaining of severe migraines on the daily.

A few deep breaths and he was ready to enjoy his evening.

It was impossible to drive the sight of Luca from his mind, his blank face glued to Darcy’s as the bus pulled away, but he managed to get through dinner and some homework without too much trouble.

The next day, Luca was at his side from the moment he arrived on the premises. Silent. Stolid. Stalking his from class to class.