"I like it," Sam adds, softer now.
Sam Sharma is standing in the middle of my room, with my mark on his neck, looking at me like I'm something worth seeing.
"Are you on suppressants?" I blurt out.
Sam blinks. "Yeah. Heavy-duty ones. Have been since freshman year. Why?"
"Just..." You didn't recognize me. As your mate."
That explains it. Why he never smelled me the way I smelled him that first day. Why he never felt the pull that's been tearing me apart. It wasn't rejection. It was chemistry. A chemical barrier that's finally broken.
Sam takes a step toward me, then another, until he's close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "What do you mean, recognize you? When?"
"The first day," I say, and my voice cracks. "You wore red and smiled at someone across the room, and my alpha knew. But you didn't see me. So I made you see me the only way I could."
Sam's eyes widen. "You knew? This whole time, you knew?"
I nod.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he whispers. "Two years, Devan. Two fucking years we could have—"
"You didn't know," I say. "You didn't feel it. And I... I'm not good with words. With people. I thought if I tried to explain, you'd think I was crazy. Or worse, you'd pity me." I swallow hard. "So I became the only thing you couldn't ignore. The rival. The obstacle. I made sure you saw me, even if it was just to argue with me."
Sam stares at me, processing. His scent shifts.
"I think..." he says slowly, "I think I knew too. I just couldn't let myself believe it."
He reaches up, touching the bite mark on his neck. "I've never cared about anyone's opinion the way I care about yours. I've never worked so hard to impress someone. I've never been so... obsessed."
"I researched you," I admit. "I know your class schedule. I know your coffee order. I know you volunteer at the campus food bank every other Thursday."
Instead of backing away, Sam steps closer. "What else?"
"I know you're brilliant," I say, the words tumbling out. "I know you work twice as hard as anyone else because you think you don't belong here. You do. You're the only person who's ever challenged me. The only one who makes me want to be better."
"I know you dated that beta sophomore year. Jason. I hated him."
Sam's lips twitch. "He was boring. It lasted three weeks."
"Three weeks, four days," I correct automatically, then wince. "Sorry. That's—"
"Hot," Sam interrupts. He steps closer, eliminating the space between us. "It's hot that you noticed."
His hands slide up my chest, and I shudder. "What else do you know about me?"
"Everything," I say. "And nothing. I know facts. But I don't know how you taste when you wake up. I don't know what your face looks like when you come. I've never done this before." I pause. "With anyone. I never wanted anyone but you."
Sam's eyes darken. "Never? Not even—"
"No one," I say. "There's only ever been you."
"But you've... researched?" There's a teasing note in his voice, but his eyes are serious, searching mine.
I nod. "I've read... everything. Every study on omega pleasure. Every paper on mate bonds. I know the theory. I just haven't had the opportunity for practical application."
Sam stares at me for a long moment. Then he bursts out laughing.
"Oh my god," he wheezes, clutching my shirt. "You did homework. You literally did homework on how to fuck me."
