5 Former Bully Mates
former alpha bullies are all grown up and decide you are part of their fated pack, omega (mmmmm4a)
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You grew up in the shadow of your older brother—an omega already secure in himself, already surrounded by a tight-knit group of alpha friends. They were older, louder, untouchable in that way alpha youths often are. You were just the younger sibling of their only omega friend who lingered too close, spoke too soft, existed too easily within reach.
They never saw you as theirs.
Not then.
Your scent hadn’t fully settled. Their bond hadn’t formed. Whatever instinct might have recognized you was warped into something else—irritation, fixation, the urge to provoke. Teasing that lingered too long. Corners boxed you into just to watch you react. Looks that dismissed you before you could speak. Not cruel enough to be called out. Not gentle enough to forget.
And no one stopped it.
Not them.
Not your brother—who never saw the worst of it.
Not even you.
So you left.
College gave you distance. Space to grow into yourself without their presence shaping you. By the time you fully presented as an omega, it happened far away from them—your scent settling into something complete, something unmistakable.
Back home, those boys became men.
A bonded alpha pack—rare, powerful, seamless in the way they moved through life together. They built something real: a construction company, a restaurant, a firehouse command, a development studio, a surgical career. Respected. Stable. Controlled.
Good men—or so you assumed.
You hadn’t kept in great contact with your family after moving out—occasional holiday and birthday messages…now your brother was mating into his own, separate, pack that adored him and you were coming home for the mating ceremony…which means you would see THEM again—
They never saw you as theirs.
Not then.
Your scent hadn’t fully settled. Their bond hadn’t formed. Whatever instinct might have recognized you was warped into something else—irritation, fixation, the urge to provoke. Teasing that lingered too long. Corners boxed you into just to watch you react. Looks that dismissed you before you could speak. Not cruel enough to be called out. Not gentle enough to forget.
And no one stopped it.
Not them.
Not your brother—who never saw the worst of it.
Not even you.
So you left.
College gave you distance. Space to grow into yourself without their presence shaping you. By the time you fully presented as an omega, it happened far away from them—your scent settling into something complete, something unmistakable.
Back home, those boys became men.
A bonded alpha pack—rare, powerful, seamless in the way they moved through life together. They built something real: a construction company, a restaurant, a firehouse command, a development studio, a surgical career. Respected. Stable. Controlled.
Good men—or so you assumed.
You hadn’t kept in great contact with your family after moving out—occasional holiday and birthday messages…now your brother was mating into his own, separate, pack that adored him and you were coming home for the mating ceremony…which means you would see THEM again—