36

ARIA

The lawyer’soffice feels like a pressure cooker, all polished mahogany and supple leather that can’t quite mask the acrid stench of anxiety rolling off everyone. I’m practically fused to this fancy chair, my fingers twisted together so tightly my knuckles throb with each heartbeat. Malachi’s next to me, his scent of cedarwood and earth the only anchor keeping me from bolting.

Sarah Goldstein, our beta lawyer, peers at us over her sleek titanium frames. Her scent is neutral, a crisp blend of linen and paper, but there’s a hint of something sour underneath, like overripe fruit. My stomach clenches. Bad news incoming.

“I’m afraid the situation is more complicated than we initially thought,” she says. The antique clock on her desk seems to tick louder, each click a countdown to doomsday.

Malachi tenses beside me, the muscle in his jaw twitching, but his voice stays steady, deep and reassuring. “Explain the situation in detail please. We need all the facts to make an informed decision.”

Sarah sighs. “The mayor is using Aria’s unregistered status as leverage. He’s threatening to make it public if you don’t back down on Omega Guardians.”

The room erupts. Growls and curses fill the air, and alpha pheromones spike so sharply I can taste them. I sit here, stunned, as reality crashes down. My past, my choices, are putting everything we built at risk.

Quinn’s playful demeanor vanishes, his amber eyes now sharp as flint. “Well, isn’t this a pickle wrapped in a dilemma? What, exactly, are we dealing with here? What kind of time frame before this ticking time bomb goes off?”

Sarah’s nails tap a nervous rhythm on the desk. “It isn’t clear. The mayor’s playing this close to the chest, but I’d say we have days, maybe a week at most before he makes good on his threat. He’s making an example out of Aria.” She glances at me with sympathetic eyes.

Zane’s scent darkens, filling the room with ozone and rain-soaked earth. “We were blind. I should have anticipated this move. Every moment we waste puts Aria in more danger.”

“Hey, ease up there, stormy,” Dash cuts in, his laid-back attitude tinged with steel. His scent of sun-warmed citrus sharpens with determination. “Nobody has a crystal ball here. What matters is how we handle it now. Let’s put our thinking caps on and brainstorm our way out of this mess.”

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. My heart races, but I refuse to let them see me falter. “Alright, let’s cut to the chase. What are our options? Don’t sugarcoat it. I need the truth, no matter how ugly.”

Sarah’s face contorts like she tasted something bitter. The sour note in her scent intensifies. “We could register you now, but…”

“But what?” Zane cuts in, all coiled tension and flashing eyes. The leather armrests creak under his grip.

“But registering now could be seen as admitting guilt,” Sarah explains, her scent souring further. “It opens up a whole new legal can of worms.”

Quinn leans forward, his usual quirky energy replaced by laser focus. “And if we don’t register her? What’s behind door number two in this game show of horrors?”

Sarah’s expression darkens, shadows deepening under her eyes. “Then we risk the mayor exposing Aria’s status. Penalties could include imprisonment and separation from the pack.”

The words hit like a physical blow, leaving a cold, hollow feeling in my gut. Separation. My omega brain recoils, and a soft whine escapes my throat, but beneath the fear, there’s something else—a spark of the old me, the one who survived on her own for so long.

“There has to be another way,” Dash says, his carefree attitude nowhere in sight. His fingers drum restlessly on the arm of his chair. “We aren’t exactly short on brainpower here. There has to be a third option we’re not seeing.”

Malachi’s hand finds mine, his touch warm and grounding. The calluses on his palm rasp against my skin. “We’ll figure this out, Aria. We always do.” His eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of concern and determination, but I catch a flicker of something else—a hint of internal struggle. He’s torn between his alpha instincts to protect me and his respect for my autonomy. It’s a battle I can see playing out behind his eyes.

As they debate strategies, their voices rising and falling like ocean waves, my mind races. I think of all the omegas I’ve met through Omega Guardians, all the stories of pain and injustice. I think of my own journey and the fear that kept me hiding for so long, but I also remember the strength I found and the fire that kept me going.

Suddenly, it’s crystal clear.

“I want to go public,” I announce, my voice cutting through the noise like a knife.

The room goes dead silent, a mix of shock and confusion. All eyes are on me, and the air feels thick and heavy with unspoken questions.

“Aria,” Malachi starts, his voice gentle but worried. I can see the conflict raging in his eyes, the alpha in him wanting to shield me from danger warring with his respect for my choices.

I shake my head, the soft swish of my hair against my neck grounding me in the moment. “No, listen. The mayor thinks he can use my status to shut us up, but what if we take that power away from him?”

I stand, feeling stronger with each word. The leather chair squeaks as I push it back, the sound oddly final. “What if I come forward voluntarily and we challenge these bullshit laws, making my case public? We could turn this from a scandal into a fucking movement.”

The words leave my mouth, and for a moment, I feel lightheaded. Am I really doing this? The omega in me quivers with fear, but another part, the part that survived on my own for so long, surges with a fierce pride. This is me, Aria, making a choice. I’m not hiding or running, but standing up and fighting back. The realization settles in my chest, warm and empowering.

The silence stretches, then understanding dawns on their faces one by one. I can almost hear the gears turning in their minds.