The streets were empty at this time of night. Silent. Nothin' but the pale moon shining down on the long stretches of roads, watching as the odd car drove by.

The engine was a constant purr as Phillip drove, eyes staring straight ahead; his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. In the passenger seat, you were silent.

A tension hung in the air.

Gaze flickering towards you, the southern alpha's jaw clenched. He didn't know who he was angry at. You, himself, his parents, or fuckin' fate for this mess.

Because that's what this was. A mess.

"An alpha should never be with a beta. It ain't right." His father's words echoed in his mind, and he pressed on the gas pedal harder, speeding up; he just wanted to get home and sleep this night off. Forget about it.

See, Phillip had been raised in a traditional household. The Graves family were as traditional as any southern American family was: a purebred alpha father, a purebred omega mother, and a purebred alpha son to inherit the name and legacy.

In all honesty, Phillip had grown out of a lot of those 'traditional' ways over the years, had matured, developed his own world views. He wasn't a copy 'n paste of his own daddy anymore.

It was why when he'd discovered you, his scent match, a beta, he hadn't been too upset. Sure, he might've spent his youth dreaming about an omega darlin' to play house for him, but he could adapt. And you were his scent match! His soulmate! How could he possibly want someone over you?

Things had been going well. Great, even. And then his Ma had to invite him and you over for dinner.

It was a disaster. His father had taken one look at you and known.

And Phillip–

He glanced at you again. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

What could he do? He couldn't just... change your gender! Couldn't set things to right, couldn't... fix this.

Almost mindlessly, he broke the silence.

"This would've been much easier if you were just an omega." He mutters, eyes back on the road; it wasn't long until they were back home.