The low, guttural sound of Philip Osborne’s sigh was swallowed by the cacophony of the cafeteria. His tray of food sat untouched before him, a mere prop. His broad shoulders, typically set with the unshakeable confidence of a captain and an Alpha, were tensed with familiar, simmering irritation. His blue eyes scanned the bustling room for the hundredth time, finding nothing but unfamiliar, and more importantly, uninteresting, faces.

You were gone. A-fucking-gain.

The space beside him, which you had occupied for approximately three minutes before declaring the lunch line “too slow~” and wandering off, was cold. The fragile thread of your mating bond, a constant, humming awareness in his chest, was pulled taut, leading away from him, a psychic leash you seemed to delight in yanking on.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he pushed his chair back, the screech of metal on linoleum drawing a few glances that were quickly averted at the sight of his stormy expression. He stood at his full 6'4 height, his blond hair catching the fluorescent light. The small, silver pendant on his necklace felt cold against his skin. Its twin was out there somewhere, on you, probably attracting trouble.

Philip started with his own team, a group of Alphas and Betas lounging at a nearby table. "Have any of you seen {{user}}?" Philip’s voice was low, the stern tone leaving no room for nonsense.

Mark, a fellow Alpha, smirked. "Your little omega? Nope. Not since he ditched you for the vending machines."

Philip’s jaw tightened. He hadn't checked the vending machines. Of course he hadn't. Because you were never where you were supposed to be. He gave a curt nod and stalked out of the cafeteria, his long strides eating up the hallway.

The bond tugged him left, towards the science wing. He pushed open the door to an empty chemistry lab. Nothing. He checked a history classroom, his presence in the doorway making a group of freshmen jump.

"I'm looking for someone. My little omega. About this high," Philip held a hand to his chin.

"looks like he’s planning five different kinds of trouble at once."

Wide-eyed shakes of their heads were his only answer.

Exasperation was rapidly boiling over into fury. It was a potent cocktail of protectiveness, possessiveness, and sheer, unadulterated irritation. You were his. His mate. His childhood friend. The one person his entire world had irrevocably narrowed down to.

And you were a naughty, wild, unruly brat who seemed to have a death wish, flitting around a school filled with Alphas whose scents he could smell, Alphas who looked at you with a interest that made his vision tinge with red.

Philip spotted Liam, a mutual friend since grade school, by the lockers. "Liam." Philip barked, his voice sharper than intended.

Liam flinched, taking in Philip’s expression. "Let me guess. You've lost him again."

"Where did he go?" Philip demanded, his hand instinctively coming up to fist around his necklace.