Like Father, Like Son

Seth's nostrils flared as he stalked closer, his scent sharp with aggression. Brandon took several steps back to try and keep distance, heart hammering as Seth invaded his space.

"Are you crying?" Seth voice strained. "Did that runt make you cry?"

Brandon's skin crawled at Seth's sneer. The slur scraped against his ears, made his chest tight. He pulled the collar of the plaid shirt up higher on his neck then wiped at the tears on his cheeks.

Seth's scent crackled like ozone before a storm. He crowded Brandon further on the path, nostrils flaring as he scented the air between them and stopped mid step.

"You've been with him?" Seth's voice raked - accusing, low, dangerous.

His chest seized tight, mind racing to find safer ground. "No, I... " Brandon continued to brush at his wet skin with the long sleeve of his shirt. "I was thinking of my nestmates from Regent. Oliver and Silas. I-I miss them."

Brandon continued to slowly move backwards, edging sideways, trying to put space between them without making any sudden moves.

"Liar." Seth's scent spiked with hurt fury. "You let him touch you! I can fucking smell it!?"

Brandon's heart thundered. This wasn't the awkward teen, Seth from earlier. This was something darker, rawer - an Alpha's possessive rage stripped of all pretense. Brandon recognized that dangerous edge.

"I-I'm heading to the house - Mike is expecting me." Brandon sped up his retreat backward.

Seth blocked his path, stance widening. "Why are you lying?" His voice dropped lower, a growl threading through his words. "You think I can't tell when an Omega is hiding something?"

Brandon's skin prickled with cold sweat. Seth was too close, too unpredictable. All impulse, no restraint.

"Your mom is probably looking for you," Brandon tried, forcing his voice to remain steady. "She seemed worried earlier about you..." He pulled at any strings to get through to this kid.

Seth's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. The mention of his mother had hit a nerve. Good.

"I don't need her checking up on me. I'm an Alpha now."

Brandon nodded, placating. "Of course you are. Everyone can see that." He took another careful step toward the house, making the movement seem casual. "But pack gatherings are about family, right? Shouldn't disappoint her."

Seth's frustration spiked in his scent, acrid and hot. Brandon could almost taste it on the back of his tongue. The boy's hands curled into fists, then relaxed with visible effort.

"Fine," Seth whined frustrated.

He took a step closer, invading Brandon's space just enough to make him want to recoil. The younger Alpha tilted his head, studying Brandon's face with that unnerving intensity.

"You have an interesting scent when you cry." His voice dropped lower, intimate, sending a shiver down Brandon’s spine that had nothing to do with the night air. It wasn't a compliment. It felt like dissection, like Seth was cataloging a weakness.

A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Then, Seth shrugged, the movement abrupt, breaking the spell. "Come on. Let's go back to the house." He turned, starting towards the path leading out of the trees, expecting Brandon to follow.

Brandon trailed behind Seth, each step measured. The Alpha's scent—sharp, unpredictable—pressed against his skin like a blade. Every muscle in Brandon's body coiled tight, ready to bolt. Seth moved with a predator's rhythm: loose-limbed, dangerous, barely contained. Brandon's gaze darted between Seth's back and the surrounding forest, mapping potential escape routes.

"Mom worries too much," Seth grumbled, kicking at a stone in their path. "She acts like I'm still a kid."

Brandon kept his distance, carefully measuring each step to maintain the gap between them. "She cares about you."

Seth's laugh was sharp, dismissive. "She's weak. Always has been." His scent turned bitter, contemptuous. "My dad knew how to handle her. When she'd get all emotional, he'd just..." Seth made a quick, silencing gesture with his hand. "Put her in her place."

Brandon's stomach clenched. The casual way Seth described it—like violence was simply a solution, a natural response.

"He'd make her kneel sometimes, right in the living room," Seth continued, his voice taking on an admiring quality that made Brandon's skin crawl. "Use his Alpha voice until she stopped crying. Said Omegas need structure or they fall apart."

The night air suddenly felt too thin. Brandon struggled to keep his expression neutral, to hide the horror blooming in his chest. Seth was describing abuse with pride, as if it were a lesson well-learned.

Seth snorted, falling into stride through the twilight, elbows swinging wide. "She’s probably still scrubbing the pack dishes or something." His voice was too bright—delighted. "Dad always kept her busy. Said it was good for her."

The path twisted underfoot. Brandon kept his eyes fixed on the house lights, blinking just ahead.

Seth caught the silence and ran with it. "One time? Dinner was late. Dad made her stand in the corner for, like, three hours—these heavy plates, one in each hand." He grinned, baring small, even teeth. "Said if she dropped them, she’d get double punishment." His laughter rang out—sweet, ordinary, but hollow as a snapped twig.

Brandon stumbled, the story knifing sideways in his mind.

Seth stopped, turned, mouth slack in terrible mimicry. "Just stood there like this. Didn’t even cry, just—" His cheeks sagged, eyes empty. "Blank, you know? I thought it was hilarious." He fidgeted, restless, like the memory itched.

"She didn’t drop them," he finished. "She’s tough. Dad used to test her a lot. Built character, he said."

Brandon didn’t answer, couldn’t. He didn’t look at Seth.

"After he died, she got worse. All these feelings." Seth spat the word. "An Alpha shouldn't have to deal with that. Dad never did." The young Alpha's smile was sharp as glass. "Guy really knew how to put Omegas in their place."

Brandon said nothing. The silence stretched between them, filled with Seth's twisted inheritance and Brandon's sickening realization of what the boy was becoming.

They passed a tall tree with a ladder and Seth suddenly stopped. "Hey, you gotta see the view from up there," he said, pointing to the massive treehouse perched midway up a large oak.

Brandon hesitated, his eyes flicking to the dark structure looming above them. "Maybe another time. It's getting late, w-we should head back."

Seth's expression hardened, and he took a step closer to Brandon. "Come on, it'll only take a minute. I promise it's worth it." His voice took on a instant tone, one that sent a shiver down Brandon's spine.

Brandon's instincts screamed at him to resist, to run full speed to the safety of the house. "Seth, I really need to head bac-."

Seth's eyes flashed, and he took another step closer. "Climb up to the ladder, Omega." he growled, his voice thick with an Alpha's command.

Brandon's body jerked in reaction, his eyes wide as he looked at Seth. His feet took two steps toward the ladder, his heart pounding in his chest. The Alpha command wrapped around him like a chain, tugging him forward against his will. His fingers trembled as they reached for the first rung.

No! Brandon's legs shook with the effort of resisting, sweat beading on his forehead, but he didn't climb higher. His heart hammered against his ribs as Seth's scent shifted from frustration to pure rage.

Seth cocked his head. "Didn't you hear me? I'm the Alpha. That means you do what I say." His hand shot out, fingers digging into Brandon's shoulder as he shoved him against the ladder. The wooden rungs bit into Brandon's chest, forcing a gasp from his lungs.

"Seth-" Brandon whispered, but Seth's grip only tightened.

"Up! Now!" Seth's other hand wrapped around Brandon's waist, lifting him onto the first rung. Brandon's fingers clutched the sides of the ladder as Seth forced him up another step, then another.

He reached the top landing, Seth crowding behind him. The tree house was even bigger than it looked from the ground, with a small balcony jutting out over the picnic tables below, it had a small play area with toys, shelves and a play kitchen.

Brandon moved to the far side of the balcony, he hugged himself, being small - unthreatening. He kept his eyes downcast, avoiding Seth's gaze.

"See? I told you it was cool up here." Seth stood at the railing by the ladder, he pointed towards the lake, his voice filled with a mix of pride and excitement. "That's the best spot to go swimming. The water's really cold, but it feels great in the summer." He moved his hand towards the cabins. "Those are the guest cabins. Sometimes we have big pack gatherings, and everyone stays there."

Brandon nodded, feigning interest, his hands gripping the railing tightly.

The young Alpha pointing towards a cluster of trees. "That's where we used to have our bonfires. The whole pack would gather around, and we tell stories, roast marshmallows..."

"It's beautiful," Brandon murmured, gaze darting across the shadowed grounds. His heart hammered against his ribs as he tried to appear calm. "The whole property... it-it must be amazing during bonfires. With marshmallows and everything."

Seth's scent shifted, pleased by the compliment. Brandon's muscles loosened just a fraction, though his heart still hammered against his ribs. Just keep him talking. Just survive this moment.

"I've never done that before," he continued, carefully measuring each word. "Roasting marshmallows under the stars..."

"Never?" Seth's eyes widened, his aggression momentarily forgotten. "But that's, like, basic pack stuff."

Brandon shrugged, offering a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's a shame I'll miss it when I leave with Mike tonight-," then froze as the words left his mouth. His stomach dropped. Oh no. How could I let that slip?

Seth's head snapped toward him, his scent sharpening with shock. "What? You're leaving?" The young Alpha's eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. "Tonight!?"

"I—I didn't mean—" Brandon stumbled over his words, panic rising in his throat. "It's just—Regent is sending a car. For me. Everything's been cleared up."

The lie felt clumsy on his tongue. Seth stepped closer, his nostrils flaring as he scented Brandon's fear.

"You're lying," Seth said, voice dangerously soft. "I can smell it."

Brandon pressed back against the railing, feeling trapped. The distance to the ground seemed impossibly far now, the lights of the house tantalizingly close yet unreachable.

"The school just wants me back," Brandon whispered. "That's all."

"That's bullshit," Seth growled, taking a step closer. "You can't just leave."

"I'm a Regent Omega. We have... responsibilities." Brandon interrupted, more sharply than he intended while trying to pull on the sophisticated Omega act.

Seth's jaw worked, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Brandon could almost see the wheels turning behind those cold blue eyes, the calculation of whether to believe him or not.

"We should head back to the house," Brandon said, inching toward the ladder. "I need to pack my things." His voice was steadier than he felt, heart thrumming like hummingbird wings beneath his ribs.

Seth moved with unexpected speed, cutting off Brandon's path to the ladder. His lanky frame suddenly seemed to fill the entire space, blocking any escape route.

"You can't leave," Seth said, voice dropping to a growl. His scent spiked—sharp, acrid, possessive—flooding the small treehouse. "Not with that security guard. Not with anyone."

** Continued in next episode due to character limit **