The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, casting short shadows across the volleyball court by the lake. The air buzzed with excitement, charged with competitive energy. Brandon and a group of Omegas had claimed a shady spot on the sidelines, ready to cheer on the game.

Pete was in his element, as he split the pack into teams, their easy banter washing over Brandon like a foreign language. He watched from the shade as he directed players with casual authority, Victoria bumping his shoulder playfully when he got too bossy. This was what pack looked like - what family looked like. The thought made his chest ache.

Spencer stood tall and solid, his gaze locked on Benny who was sitting among the Omegas. His protective streak was clear as day; even amidst the friendly game, his eyes rarely strayed from Benny.

Blue and Alex arrived together, Alex in tiny shorts and a crop top that had Blue practically tripping over his own feet. Their playful flirting, the way Blue's hand kept finding excuses to brush Alex's back - it was so different from the calculated seduction Brandon knew.

The teams squared off across the net, sand shifting beneath their feet as they took their positions. Pete's team huddled together, their heads bowed in strategic discussion.

"Remember, Seth - stay close to the net. Your height gives us an advantage on blocks," Pete directed, his voice carrying authority without pressure.

Across the net, Alex stretched his arms overhead, making a show of warming up his shoulders. "Hope you're ready to eat sand, Zack," he called out, earning a chorus of 'oohs' from the spectators.

"Big talk from someone who hasn't played since high school," Zack shot back, bouncing the volleyball across his forearms.

Blue stepped up behind Alex, his presence commanding attention. "Don't worry, I've got his back." His hand brushed Alex's shoulder. "Unlike some people."

The game intensified with each point, competitive spirits rising with the summer heat. Trash talk flew faster than the ball, each team determined to prove their superiority on the sandy court.

Despite his shorter stature, Zack moved with an athleticism that drew Brandon's eyes to him. His muscles rippled with each jump, the definition in his arms and shoulders evident as he spiked the ball with precision. The black tank top clung to his torso, damp with sweat that made his skin glisten in the afternoon sun.

Seth's eyes locked onto Brandon, a predator's focus. Each serve began with that unnerving gaze, as if Brandon was the target rather than the ball. Seth's lanky frame coiled with a grace that seemed almost unnatural, a snake preparing to strike. The tension in the air grew palpable as the game continued, the other players oblivious to the silent exchange between the young Alpha and the Omega.

Blue kept setting up perfect plays with Alex, their coordination seamless. After a particularly impressive spike that scored them another point, Blue's hand connected with Alex's bottom in a celebratory pat. The Omega's cheeks flushed pink, his eyes darting away as a small smile played at his lips.

"Nice one," Blue praised, his voice carrying a hint of something more than just athletic appreciation.

Alex tucked a strand of blonde hair behind his ear, trying to maintain his composure despite the obvious effect Blue's attention had on him. "Thanks," he managed, his usual sass momentarily forgotten.

The game continued, with Zack demonstrating why size wasn't everything. He moved like lightning across the sand, his reflexes making up for any height disadvantage. Until-

The volleyball soared over the net, Gavin's powerful spike sending it straight toward Seth's position. The lanky teen's eyes flicked to Brandon first - always to Brandon - before he lunged forward. His movements were too precise, too calculated for someone still learning to control their new Alpha body.

Zack appeared in Seth's space just as the younger Alpha reached for the ball. Their bodies collided with a force that sent them both sprawling into the sand. But Brandon saw it - the way Seth had shifted at the last second, deliberately moving into Zack's path.

"Watch where you're going!" Seth scrambled up, all gangly teenage fury, but there was something WRONG in his scent - that sharp glass smell from earlier growing stronger, like a knife being unsheathed. His eyes darted to Brandon, nostrils flaring as if drinking in his unease. "You did that on purpose!"

"Calm down, Seth," Zack said, hands raised. Sand clung to his sweat-dampened skin as he stood. "It's just a game."

"Don't tell me to calm down." Seth's voice cracked with teenage anger, but his gaze remained fixed on Brandon, watching how the Omega's eyes kept going to Zack. His scent turned jagged, predatory. "You think you're so special because you're older? You're not even a real Alpha, you're a runt-!"

"Seth!" Pete's eyes narrowed as he approached, his Alpha presence radiating authority without aggression. "Go cool off. Now." His tone left no room for argument, the command firm but measured. "Take a walk and come back when you've got yourself under control."

The young Alpha's jaw clenched, his gaze lingering on Brandon for one unsettling moment before he stalked away, kicking up sand with each step.

The blonde's outburst had shifted the game's energy. Blue and Alex exchanged glances before gathering their things. Gavin stretched dramatically, declaring he needed a drink. One by one, pack members found reasons to disperse - some toward the lake, others to the food prep area - leaving the confrontation to fizzle rather than explode.

Pete rested a hand on Zack's shoulder. "We'll talk about this later," he said quietly, his eyes tracking Seth's retreat toward the house.

"You okay?" Brandon asked softly from his spot in the shade.

Zack's expression softened as he met Brandon's gaze. He nodded once, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

"Yeah," he said. "Kid's just got a lot to learn about his new presentation."

"You played really well out there." His fingers traced absent patterns on the fabric of his borrowed plaid shirt. "You were faster than everyone else."

Zack's lips quirked up at Brandon's praise, his earlier tension melting away. The afternoon sun caught the shine of his black piercings, making them glint as he moved closer. "So you were watching, huh?"

"Hard not to notice when you're jumping around like that," Heat crept up Brandon's neck, and he ducked his head to hide the flush spreading across his cheeks.

"And here I thought I was being really impressive." His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from his face, fingertips ghosting along his temple where the white streak marked his brown hair.

His heart raced at Zack's gentle touch. The tenderness was worse than force - it made him want to yield, to please. He wasn't demanding anything. Just standing there, blue eyes soft with something that looked dangerously like tenderness.

"You're doing it again," Brandon whispered.

"Doing what?" Zack's lips curved in a small smile.

"Making me forget myself." Brandon wrapped his arms around his middle.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Zack took another step closer.

Brandon's pulse quickened as heat crawled up his neck, making him want to bare his throat. His body knew this dance intimately - every movement had been trained and beaten into him until it became second nature. But Zack wasn't demanding or grabbing. He was just... there. Soft. Warm. Patient.

His fingers twisted in the borrowed plaid shirt, leaving red marks as want warred with terror. He could taste the desire to lean in, to feel those strong hands on his skin. The urge shocked him - not because it existed, but because for once, it was real. His. Not born from training or fear.

Brandon took a shaky step back, forcing his trembling lips to form words that been trained to say. "An Omega of p-proper breeding shouldn't engage in such intimate contact-" he paused, "-without formal courtship protocols." The plolite phrases burned his tongue, but he pushed on. "Perhaps we should maintain appropriate distance until... until proper introductions and intentions have been formally discussed..." The last works were barely pushed out of his lips.

"That's not you talking," Zack said softly but his brows furrowed. "Those are Regent's words."

Brandon's careful mask cracked for just a moment, his eyes widening before he could school his features back into neutral submission. His fingers twisted in the borrowed plaid shirt, betraying his inner turmoil.

"I-I should go help with the lunch." Brandon said, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned quickly, nearly stumbling in his haste to put distance between them.

Zack watched him retreat, confusion etching lines across his forehead. One moment they'd been connecting, warmth building between them, and the next Brandon had thrown up walls made of formal language and proper protocols. The words hadn't even sounded natural coming from Brandon's mouth - they'd been stiff, rehearsed, like lines from a script he'd been forced to memorize.