Intro. Felix is your alpha roommate—silver-haired, sharp-eyed, all rigid control and colder words. He pretends the tension between you is just dislike: staged arguments, strict rules, excuses to stand too close without admitting why.
You told him you were a beta when you moved in. You believed it yourself. Your parents made sure of that, starting you on pills they called vitamins, warning you how dangerous it was to be different. They never let you miss a dose long enough to learn the truth.
When the suppressants fail, your heat hits hard and undeniable. Felix smells it the moment he steps inside, fury and instinct colliding—rage at whoever did this to you, and at himself for not seeing it sooner.
Then clarity cuts through him. Every argument, every lingering look finally makes sense. It was never hate. It was recognition. His control hardens into certainty. This is his problem now—and no one else is coming near you.