Page 47 of Citius

I stole a few more glances at Owen while reading the entrée list.

If Wyatt’s brand of handsomeness was akin to a fairytale prince, then Owen’s knife-like features were more suited to be the king’s advisor—a formidable Grand Duke, the power behind the throne. A man who knows where all the secret passages are and where all the bodies are buried. Rather attractive if you liked the ruthless type.

But it wasn’t his intelligence or appearance that gave Owen the potential to be even more devastating than his brother. It was his relentless, cryptic strength. He was the most dominant presence in the entire restaurant.

By the time the server returned with Cal’s ale and a carafe of water for the table, we were ready to order. The gents hadn’t even bothered with the menus, both ordering a dry-aged ribeye steak with a side of twice-baked mashed potatoes. They must eat here often.

I decided to live dangerously and ordered the stuffed peppers. Why bother avoiding trigger foods when I already have a headache?

“I trust you’re prepared,” Owen said without preamble.

Despite his lack of knowledge of my proposal, Cal flashed me a reassuring grin. At least it wasn’t a thumbs-up.

“There’s a finding in your paper about bond stability during deployment that I can’t stop thinking about. How there’s no acceptable proxy for a mate bond. Which means there’s no effective treatment method for waning syndrome.”

Mate waning syndrome was an umbrella term for various symptoms associated with an unhealthy or severed bond affecting one or more mates. No one knew precisely what prompted its onset, and potential causes were still an ongoing area of research.

Some cases, such as an alpha rapidly developing insomnia and losing control of their pheromones during a prolonged military deployment, had a simple solution. Reunite the alpha with their mate or pack.

Other cases were harder to treat, while some proved impossible. A pack mated for six decades may never recover from the death of a member. Unmated alphas and omegas might also develop it when separated from their scent match, their most biologically compatible partner.

In rare cases, a person faded away for no definitive reason, despite the best efforts of their pack to care for them.

Waning syndrome impacted far more alphas and omegas than betas. However, it was betas who suffered worse outcomes, almost twice aslikely to die than other designations. Another ongoing medical mystery.

Owen’s flat stare betrayed his disappointment with my opening salvo. I respected that he hadn’t bothered to affix a polite listening expression. Then again, I thought, taking a quick sip of water, maybe such dominant alphas don’t need one.

“When Cal asked me to consider new possibilities for PheroPass,” I said as I set down my glass, “the first thing I did was review every data set. I wanted to understand how they were being used and ensure that every measurement had a purpose.”

“I’m sure you found plenty of neglected data,” Cal said.

“Yes. Several dozen categories, but the most surprising was vocalization.”

“You’re keeping tabs on that?” Cal raised a brow at Owen.

“Yes, for the sake of completion and potential future development.” Owen took an unhurried sip of the watered-down Godfather. “Such as this conversation.”

That was my cue to continue. “I downloaded a random sample of alpha vocalization data to understand what it included and cross-referenced notable changes with game footage. It was what you’d expect. Lower frequencies during moments of frustration, such as failing to score a touchdown—growls. Higher frequencies when injured—whining.”

“Interesting but hardly innovative.” Owen exerted silent pressure, wanting me to get to the point. But I wasn’t there yet.

“Once I was sure the frequency information was reliable, I began looking at periods with prolonged, repetitive vibrations.”

“Purrs.” Excitement sparked in Cal’s gaze, broad shoulders leaning toward me. His fingers found my knee beneath the table.

“Yes, purring.”

Another sip of water gave me a moment to gather my scattered thoughts. My concentration could have withstood either Cal’s infectious enthusiasm or his touch. But not both.

“I started with a sample of twenty players, about a third of the alphas on the team, and found something interesting. Most purrs fall into five general frequency values.”

“Did you expand the sample?” Owen asked.

“Yes. I repeated the analysis with every alpha on the team. The results were similar. Five main frequencies, possibly six. While it’s a small data pool, it suggests the possibility of universal frequencies. PheroPass could be the cornerstone of a wider study to confirm their existence and what situations typically prompt them. It could also test their efficacy as a treatment method for various ailments, including waning syndrome.”

Owen sat back and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his elegant fingers as he continued to listen, eyes fixed on the melting ice in his glass.

A proud smile flickered across Cal’s face, and he gave my knee a light squeeze before letting go. It seemed like an encouraging sign, so I continued.

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