Call You Mine

Chapter Thirteen

"They're still saying shit," Prem muttered, scrolling through Facebook. Someone had decided to create a separate group for the first-years in the Faculty of Engineering, but the idiot had left the privacy settings on public. Anyone with a fucking internet connection could see what was posted in it, but that didn't stop them from writing abhorrent shit about Arthit.

A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he read the most recent post that mentioned Arthit. Written by a first-year beta named Book, it asked if it was true that omegas had a tendency to take out their sexual frustrations on others and if that was why Arthit yelled at them all the time. But that wasn't the worst part. In the comments, several students had apparently been wondering the same thing and were now asking if one of the first-year alphas could seduce him and take care of the issue.

"Prem." Knot nudged his shoulder to get his attention. He gestured at Arthit, who, after scarfing down his lunch in record time, had somehow fallen asleep at the table. "Stop growling. You're going to wake him up."

Prem's expression softened when he looked at Arthit. The omega was clearly pushing himself too hard, and next week he was going to start his new job on top of everything else. "Sorry," he said, quietly. "But look at this shit, Knot. Are these idiots too stupid to use Google?"

"Just put it away," Bright whined. "You keep scaring away the girls. How am I supposed to get any of their numbers if they're too scared to talk to us?"

Always ready to put on a show, Tutah put on a sympathetic face and patted Bright on the back consolingly, nodding his head in solemn agreement.

"I don't give a shit if you get laid or not, Bright." Prem scowled and continued scrolling through the comments. "They're such idiots...I can't believe they actually think—" What the everlasting fuck?

One of the first-year alphas—a dumbass named Bank—had tagged Kongpob and asked if he was serious about making Arthit his wife because, if so, he had competition. Kongpob hadn't replied, but a beta named Som pointed out the rumor that he and Arthit were dating, which Bank immediately brushed off. 'They're not dating.' the alpha wrote. 'If they were, he wouldn't be in such a bad mood all the time.'

Prem's eyes flashed with magic, filling the colors of his eyes with a crimson light that burned with unadulterated rage. Arthit was their senior, and the co-head hazer. How dare they talk about him like that?

"Prem?" Knot grabbed his arm to get his attention. "Prem! Calm down—"

Snarling, Prem yanked his arm out of his friend's grasp. "Don't tell me to fucking 'calm down', Knot! The first-years have been nothing but disrespectful since the beginning. And it's not just towards Arthit. One of the first-years completely ignored me this morning when we walked past each other. Enough is enough. I'm fucking sick of it. They need to learn respect."

"I agree," said Knot, keeping his voice low. His eyes flickered to Arthit, who groaned softly in his sleep and frowned before turning to face the opposite direction. "But being angry isn't going to change that. All you're going to do is wake Arthit up, and you know just as well as I do how much he needs rest."

His words were like a punch to the gut. The magic faded from Prem's eyes, and he glanced at Arthit. An uncomfortable tightness formed in the back of his throat.

"I get it, Prem, I really do," continued Knot, after a beat of silence. "Do you think you're the only one who's bothered by what they're saying online? But getting angry isn't a solution. Instead, we should focus on doing a better job teaching the freshmen."

"Squats and push-ups aren't going to teach them shit." Prem paused, shifting his focus back to the omega next to him. It was only a matter of time before one of the alphas decided to follow through with the bullshit they were spewing online, and he couldn't let that happen. He had to put a stop to it before Arthit got hurt. "We're going too easy on them," he said. "Especially the alphas."