Page 12 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

The booth goes silent, the noise of the bar fading into the background as my friends process what I just said. Cayenne’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing it in solidarity.

“Holy shit,” Ginger whispers. “Are you okay?”

I manage a shaky laugh, but it sounds thin, even to me. “Define okay. I’m not losing my mind anymore, so I guess that’s something.”

“What are you going to do?” Cayenne asks, her voice low and intense. “You aren’t thinking of… you know, going to them, are you?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” I say, frustration bleeding into my voice. “I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure it out, but it’s like hitting a brick wall. I’m right back where I started.”

Ginger leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Have you told Omega Guardians? They are pretty tight on security. They could probably help track down how this happened.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t told anyone but you two. I… I don’t want to cause any trouble. They’ve already done so much for me.”

Cayenne squeezes my hand again, her voice soft but firm. “We get it, but you can’t carry this by yourself, Aria. It isn’t safe.” She pauses, a determined glint in her eye. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. I have contacts in the underground omega network. We’ll start there and dig up some dirt on Scent Synergy. If they want to play dirty, then we can play dirtier.”

We spend the rest of the evening laughing, sharing stories, and losing ourselves in the comfort of familiar faces and strong margaritas. The chatter of the bar hums in the background, but for once, I’m not overwhelmed by the noise or the presence of alphas who might notice me. Tonight, I’m just another girl out with her friends, enjoying a night that doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.

As we stumble out of the bar, arm in arm and slightly unsteady, the reality of my situation creeps back in. The cool night air clears some of the alcohol-induced haze, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.

“You good to get home?” Cayenne asks, her words only slightly slurred.

I nod, but Ginger’s already shaking her head. “Nuh-uh. We’re walking you back. No arguments.”

Ginger falls into step on my other side, completing our little trio. “Yeah, no solo adventures for you tonight, missy.”

As we walk, I can’t help but think about Pack Clarke. Are they looking for me? Do they even care? Part of me—a traitorous, omega part—hopes they do. The memory of their scents, their presence, sends a shiver down my spine. It’s a cocktail of fear and longing that I’m not ready to untangle.

“Aria?” Cayenne’s voice cuts through my panic. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mumble, forcing a smile. “Just thought I saw… Never mind.”

They escort me all the way to my door, only leaving after a thorough check of my apartment and extracting a promise to text them when I wake up. As I close the door behind them, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched and that somewhere out there, Pack Clarke is waiting, planning their next move.

While I get ready for bed, my phone buzzes one last time. It’s a group message from Cayenne.

Cayenne: Operation Protect Aria is a go. I’ll start digging tomorrow.

Ginger: On it. Those corporate alphas won’t know what hit them.

Willow: Count me in too! I’ll see what I can find out through Omega Guardians. No one messes with our Aria and gets away with it.

A lump forms in my throat as I read their messages.

How did I get so lucky to have friends like these?

5

ARIA

I lightthe last scented candle, and the warm vanilla smell mixes with the lavender from my earlier cleaning frenzy. It’s like my apartment’s trying to be a fancy spa, minus the cucumber water and judgy looks from the receptionist. There’s a knock on my door, and I know it’s Cayenne before I even open it. Her timing is spot-on, as always. She’s showing up after I spent the entire day nursing a hangover that’s clingier than a needy ex.

“Alright, bitches, the party has arrived! And by party, I mean wine. Lots of wine,” Cayenne declares, waving a bottle like she just won the lottery. Her fiery red hair catches the soft glow of the candles, matching her energy that could probably power a small city. The spicy cinnamon scent that always clings to her skin wafts through the air, comforting in its familiarity. When she turns to face me, her smile falters. “Oh, honey. You look like you need this more than I thought.”

I try to laugh it off, but the sound comes out more like a choked sob. Smooth, Aria. Real smooth. Before I can stop myself, I crumble faster than a cookie in milk, and Cayenne’s arms are around me in an instant. I lean into her warmth, the comfort of her embrace like a lifeline thrown to a drowningwoman. Her scent envelops me, soothing my frayed nerves like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, her voice steady and soothing. “We’ve got you. No alpha drama’s going to break this squad.”

I nod against her shoulder, trying to draw strength from her words like I’m some kind of emotional vampire. Cayenne gently guides me to the couch, her arm still wrapped protectively around me. As we settle into the cushions, she reaches for the wine bottle she set on the coffee table.

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