Let them try to bind me. I’ll show them just how strong an omega can be. I’m not just a force to be reckoned with—I’m a full-on natural disaster in yoga pants and a messy bun. Bring it on, universe. This omega’s ready for war.

After my nap of course.

7

QUINN

I stand outsidethe glossy glass facade of Scent Synergy, my packmates beside me. The morning air is crisp, but the chill barely registers against the nervous energy thrumming through my veins.

Zane paces back and forth, agitation rippling off him in waves of smoky alpha pheromones. Malachi is motionless, but the rigid set of his jaw gives away his tension, his usually cool scent tinged with a sharp edge. Dash fidgets with his jacket zipper, his sunny aroma muted and uncertain.

“Alright, guys, reality check time,” Dash mutters, breaking the uneasy silence that’s hung over us since we left the house. “Are we seriously about to pull a rom-com grand gesture here? I’m pretty sure Aria’s more likely to pepper spray us than swoon.”

Malachi nods, his voice firm and steady. “We need answers, and if Aria’s here, then we owe it to her to try to make things right. We need to be strategic, not just reactive. Our actions now will shape our future with Aria—if we have one at all.”

I inhale deeply, steeling myself against the uncertainty gnawing at my resolve. “Let’s go.”

We step into the lobby, and the sterile scent of the building hits us like a wall—clean, clinical, and devoid of any warmth. Our alpha instincts bristle at the unnatural absence of scent, but the absence of something else, something familiar that should be here, is more unsettling.

The absence of Aria’s scent hits us like a punch to the gut.

Zane’s voice breaks the heavy silence. “She isn’t here, but we’re her mates. That has to mean something, even if she doesn’t want it to. The bond doesn’t lie.”

I notice it too—the distinct lack of Aria’s sweet orange creamsicle scent. It’s a hollow ache, the reality of our strained bond settling uncomfortably in my chest. Of course she wouldn’t be here. After everything we put her through, why would she want to face us?

Code is simple. People? Not so much, but I’ve never backed down from a complex problem before.

A chipper receptionist greets us, her practiced smile bright and unflinching as she guides us to a conference room. Her beta scent is carefully neutral, barely detectable beneath layers of scent blockers. Moments later, Dr. Reeves enters, his expression radiating excitement that feels out of place against the tension in the room.

“Gentlemen,” he begins, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Your match with Aria is truly exceptional. The compatibility metrics are nearly unprecedented.”

I lean forward, letting curiosity push back the sting of Aria’s absence. My tech savvy side perks up at the mention of metrics. “What exactly does that mean? Unprecedented compatibility? Sounds like we hit the cosmic jackpot.”Too bad the universe forgot to ask Aria if she wanted to play.

Dr. Reeves leans forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Gentlemen, what we’re seeing here is extraordinary. The genetic compatibility between you and Aria is off the charts.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Well,” Dr. Reeves continues, “your pheromone synchronization is in the ninety-nineth percentile. The allelic matching on key bonding genes is nearly perfect. We’re talking about a level of compatibility that occurs in less than 0.01% of the population.”

Malachi’s jaw tightens. “And what does this mean for Aria?”

Dr. Reeves beams, oblivious to our growing discomfort. “It means, Alpha Malachi, that your connection to Aria is more than just a standard mate bond. It’s a rare, profound link that could potentially amplify your pack’s strengths exponentially.”

Zane shifts in his seat, his shoulders slumping. “Does Aria know about this? Did she consent to any of this?”

“That’s… a complex issue,” Dr. Reeves hedges. “But from a biological standpoint, this bond is already forming, whether any of you consciously chose it or not.”

The air grows thick with our mingled emotions—anxiety, guilt, and a confusing mix of hope and dread. It’s clear that this is more than we bargained for, and the weight of what it means for Aria and us settles heavily in the room.

I feel it through our bond. The emotional wave rolls through each of us, merging all four of us together, and for the first time in a long time, we all feel the same.

Dash cuts in, his voice rough with frustration, his usual carefree demeanor nowhere to be seen. “That’s great and all, but where is she? Why isn’t she here?”

Dr. Reeves’s smile wavers, and his scent shifts, betraying his discomfort. “Ah, well… Aria was here earlier today. She was… not particularly pleased about the match.”

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with unspoken regret. Zane clenches his fists, and Malachi looks like he’s about to punch a wall. I can practically feel the weight of our collectiveguilt pressing down on us, our scents souring with shame and disappointment.

“There’s more,” Dr. Reeves continues cautiously. “Aria’s status is… complicated. She’s unregistered and refuses to register, and given the strength of your match, there could be legal repercussions.”