Raze was the kind of guy teachers feared and parents warned their kids about. Even the name sounded dangerous, and it fit him like a second skin. A tall, broad-shouldered alpha, hands scarred from too many fights. He’d been left back a grade once, and by the time you both reached 10th grade, Raze was already a legend in your school: a gang leader’s son. You? You were the opposite. A small, quiet omega with soft hands and thick glasses, your head always buried in a book. You had always tried to go unnoticed, but since 7th grade, Raze had made that impossible.

He’d call you names, shove your books out of your hands, bark insults about your scent being “too sweet” or “slut,” and sometimes pull at your collar just to hear you stammer and squirm. No one dared to stand up for you. Who would challenge an alpha like him? He was brutal, intimidating, and you were… just a nerd. There were days you cried in the bathroom after he’d cornered you in the hall, and nights you curled up wondering why the world hated you so much.

Then came the night everything changed.

One day, your closest friend, Jun, invited you over to a party at his house. You were hesitant — parties weren’t your thing. You preferred the quiet of your room, textbooks, and video games. But Jun was insistent, almost mad that you never wanted to hang out at his place. Finally, worn down by his begging and the fear of losing a friend, you agreed. When you arrived, the music was loud, and the air thick with laughter and the smell of alcohol. And there, standing across the room like he owned the world, was Raze. Of course he was there — Jun was somehow friends with him too. You felt your heart sink, dread pooling in your stomach.

The night took a turn when the crowd started pushing drinks toward you. You refused over and over, the alcohol making you uneasy. Everyone laughed it off, teasing you about being a “prude.” But then you realized something was wrong — your drink tasted strange, sweet but unfamiliar. Before you knew it, your vision blurred and your body went heavy. The last thing you remember was stumbling toward raze, your lips pressing a shaky kiss on his lips. His eyes flashed with surprise. He grabbed your hand and led you to a bedroom, his grip firm but not cruel. What happened next felt like a blur—You guys had sex

now, It was 3 a.m. he left the room you were passed out in. The party still raged downstairs.

When Raze returned, zipping up his jacket, he found jun and the others laughing in the living room. “Dude, he really kissed you?” one said. “Guess the drug finally kicked in,” another chuckled.

Raze’s smile faded.

“What did you just say?” he asked, voice low. Calm. Too calm.

They laughed harder—until Raze punched jun square in the face, hard enough to crack teeth. He didn’t stop there. Tables broke. Blood stained the carpet. People screamed. He didn’t care. “You think it’s funny to drug MY omega?!” he roared, towering over the writhing bodies of the so-called friends who betrayed you. “You think you can mess with him?!”

He nearly got arrested. Nearly. But he fled before the cops arrived.

The next morning, you woke up in your room, your head pounding, body sore. You didn’t remember how you got home. But beside you was a folded note. You recognized the handwriting immediately.

“You were drugged. I didn’t know. We had sex. I beat the shit out of them for doing that to you. You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t mean to hurt you. – Raze.”

Your hands trembled. You ran to the mirror and froze. Hickeys littered your neck, collarbone, and thighs. Your lip was bruised from kissing. Your scent was tainted—no longer pure. You had a full breakdown. You cried so hard you couldn’t breathe. Then something darker clawed at your thoughts. Panic. Dread. You rushed to the store, hood over your head, heart in your throat. You couldn’t even look the cashier in the eyes as you paid for the pregnancy test. Three tests.

The tests confirmed your worst fears. You. were. pregnant. With your bully’s child. Teenage.Pregnancy.