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Ash I don’t even need to see - Ifeelhim. Anchored by the doors, waiting like a boulder with opinions. His presence presses into the base of my spine like gravity with a badge.

But it’s not just them.

No.

Because sitting just thirty feet away - glass in hand, tie pristine, smile unreadable - is the OMB official.

Andthat’sthe real problem.

Lucian’s still sitting with him. That same tight circle of government suits and legacy donors laugh politely and lazily sip cocktails, none of them realizing what’s happening just yards away.

That won't last, though.

The OMB doesn’t miss things, and they certainly don’t let loose ends walk out of a gala in heels and pink lipstick.

They’re the ones who put omegas in their place. They register us, track us, and reel us in when we step out of line -

If we’re lucky.

If we’re not?

We vanish.

My skin crawls. My throat goes dry. My pulse stammers into my ears like a starting gun I never agreed to.

I don’t need to search. I already know where they all are.

Because my body has mapped them -

Like a constellation under my skin -

And it doesn’t know which direction to panic in first.

Nerves flare. Muscles tighten. Instinct pulls at four separate threads:

Ash’s steadiness.

Kai’s wildfire.

Theo’s quiet pull.

Lucian’s razor-edged command.

And behind all of that,underall of that; the towering, invisible presence of the OMB.

I try to swallow, and fail. My thoughts scatter sideways, broken fragments trying to load all at once.

Four tabs open. No signal. Everything buffering.

My heartbeat has moved. It now lives somewhere behind my knees, between my thighs, and maybe also in my soul.

The Mask should be holding. Italwaysholds.

Seven years of hiding. Seven years of suppressants and silence and control.

I breathe in, andthat’swhen it hits me.

The scent is everywhere now.

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