Page 7 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
Most alphas would probably dismiss a scent this muted, this carefully controlled. But I'd spent years learning to read the subtle signs of omega distress, the way trauma and medication could mask natural signatures until only someone specifically trained would notice the underlying struggles.
This omega was fighting something. And they’d been fighting it for a while.
I set down my tools and moved toward the shared wall between my apothecary and Pine & Pages. Hollis had mentioned hiring someone new, a woman who'd seemed wary but competent. I'd assumed it was normal new-employee nerves, the kind of adjustment period anyone might need when starting fresh in a small town.
But this wasn't adjustment nerves. This was system failure.
I selected chamomile for calm, valerian root for anxiety, a touch of honey to ease the bitterness, then added the usual herbs I knew would help with suppressant strain. The blend was one I'd developed specifically for omegas dealing with suppressant side effects. It was gentle enough not to interfere with medication, but supportive enough to ease the strain on their systems.
The front door of Pine & Pages chimed as I approached with my carefully packaged tea blend. Inside, I could see Hollis at the register and a woman I didn't recognize organizing books with mechanical precision. Her movements were too controlled, too careful, like someone forcing themselves to function when their internal systems were at war.
When she turned, I caught my first full impression of her scent signature and had to steady myself against the doorframe. Not just suppressant strain, there was old trauma here, carefully buried but still affecting her biological responses. The kind of damage that happened when someone's omega nature had been controlled rather than supported for far too long.
"Elias," Hollis said warmly as I approached the counter. "Perfect timing, I was just about to put out your favourite cookies. This is Willa, our new team member. Willa, this is Elias Wren. He runs the apothecary next door."
She looked up from her book arrangement, and I was struck by how carefully blank her expression was. Brown eyes that should have been warm were guarded, defensive. Her entire posturescreamed 'don't get too close,' but her scent told a different story entirely.
"I hope I'm not overstepping," I said carefully, keeping my voice gentle and unhurried. "I noticed you might be dealing with some system stress. Transition to new environments can be hard on anyone, but especially..."
I paused, not wanting to assume or label.
"Especially omegas on suppressants," she finished for me, surprise clear in her voice at her own honesty.
"Yes." I offered a small smile. "I've developed some blends that might help with the adjustment period. No pressure, just... available if you're interested."
I could see her weighing my offer, probably wondering what the catch was. In my experience, omegas who'd been hurt learned to be suspicious of alphas bearing gifts, especially anything related to their biological needs.
"What kind of blends?" she asked cautiously.
"Chamomile for calm, valerian for system support, a few other herbs that help soothe the suppressants to work in harmony with your system. Then, finally, a touch of honey because healing shouldn't taste like punishment," I explained, setting the small cloth bag on the counter. "It won't interfere with any medications you might be taking. Just... gentle support."
Her hand moved toward the tea blend, then stopped. "I don't... I'm not good at accepting help."
"Help isn't something you have to be good at," I replied. "It's something you deserve, whether you're good at it or not."
The words seemed to hit her like a physical blow. I watched her carefully controlled composure crack just slightly, enough to let me see the wounded person underneath all that defensive armor.
"Thank you," she said, and this time she did reach for the tea blend. "I don't usually..." her forehead furrowed as she tried to express what she wanted to say.
"Take your time," I said softly when she struggled for words. "There's no rush to decide anything. The tea will keep, and so will I."
Hollis was watching this exchange with obvious interest but thankfully didn't comment. He understood the delicate nature of omega wellness work, the way healing required patience rather than pressure.
"Can I ask," Willa said quietly, "if someone was... if someone had been suppressing their cycles for over a year because of medication... would that be dangerous?"
The question hung between us, more revealing than she'd probably intended. I chose my words with extra care.
"Suppressants are useful tools, but they can create stress on the system when used long-term," I said gently. "Omegas naturally cycle roughly every three months. When those cycles get interrupted for extended periods, sometimes the system tries to compensate in ways that can feel overwhelming."
"But not dangerous?"
"Not dangerous. Just... intense. Like a river that's been dammed suddenly finding its natural course again."
She nodded slowly, processing this information. "And if someone wanted to let their natural cycle return?"
"That would be completely their choice," I said firmly. "Your body, your decision. Always. Though I should mention that going longer than eighteen months without a natural cycle can sometimes make the eventual heat... more challenging to manage."
"More challenging how?"
