Page 54 of Altius
Fresh, resinous greenery, warmed by the lazy rays of an afternoon sun. Turning the phantom hedge maze where I’d been trapped for ten long, lonely years into something tangible. Proving that our connection hadn’t been all in my head.
Pressing the card to my mouth, I drank him in, on the verge of crying, trying to bury myself in his scent because he was mine.
Mine.
A seismic chasm of desire ripped through me, and I doubled over from the intensity.
When I returned to myself, I found I’d all but ruined the card with saliva, tears, and maybe a bit of snot.
Chantal’s demeanor was professional, but she couldn’t mute the delight sparkling in her eyes as she offered me a box of tissues. Her most challenging client finally struck gold.
“That’s the one?”
“Yeah. It’s him—it’s Wyatt.” Before tending to my face, I cleaned up the card so Chantal could scan the barcode, hesitant to hand it over. “Can I have it back?”
“Of course. It’s a very powerful souvenir, especially for scent matches.” After a quick scan, she returned all five cards to me in a specially designed scent-preserving envelope. “You’ll want the complete set. Trust me.”
Turning back to her computer, Chantal pulled up my prior heat agreement and began making edits.
“Okay. I’ve got all their contact details… Everyone’s got a clean STI screening within the past calendar year, but I’d suggest getting new panels, just to be safe.”
“Works for me.”
“And you’re sure about canceling the heat suite?”
“Absolutely. If you’re banging the neighbors, why leave the comfort of home?”
Chantal paused, turning to look at me with sky-high brows. “Neighbors?”
“Mhm. They bought the place across the hall. Didn’t I tell you?”
“No, you most certainly didnot.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard, populating a new screen with data. “Theyalllive next door?”
“Four of them do. But Cal comes over two or three times a week.”
“I should have known there was something else going on,” Chantal muttered under her breath and then hit enter with a vengeance. The tool spat out a number on a red background, making her wince. “Not good—and yet it explains your wonky hormones. Your VNO must be going haywire.”
The vomeronasal organ was a tiny accessory olfactory organ located at the base of the nasal cavity. It was more pronounced in alphas and omegas due to their sensitivity to pheromones, but it wasn’t well understood.
Research interest only picked up in the last decade, with a key finding announced last year. The VNO was triggered duringinstances of fight or flight, such as experiencing a pheromone bomb, and helped to amplify your reaction—whether it be fear, lust, or elation.
It operated separately from the olfactory nerve, which is why I still experienced the occasional bout of nausea in crowded places without good ventilation, despite my anosmia. The VNO wasn’t trying to decipher scents but rather how to react to pheromones in the immediate vicinity.
But what did that have to do with Pack Redmond?
“I’m not following, Chantal.”
“Your VNO was primed for Wyatt—your scent match. Then you lost your sense of smell. Now, not only is he back in your life, but you’re living across the hall from him, and three other men with compatible pheromones. It’s like a hormonal candy shop moved in next door, and your body is looking for a sugar fix.”
I raised a skeptical brow. “Are you suggesting my arousal dysfunction is because my VNO has been in some kind of weird stasis for a decade?”
“Pretty much. And then a combination of factors lit a fuse within you, biologically speaking.” Chantal counted each point on a finger. “Skipping heats for three years. Reducing your suppressant dose. Reconnecting with Wyatt. Finding a second compatible partner in Cal.”
Leaning closer, Chantal’s tone became softer, more tactful.
“Your body is priming itself for anintenseheat, Morgan. Yes, you’re overdue for one. And you’re an unmated omega over thirty. I already accounted for that in your dosing. But think about how often you’re around these five men—a pack’s worth of compatible men—at workandat home. So, if you don’t want to go into heat prematurely,” she said, leaning across her desk, “hold back on the neighborly love for the next few weeks, okay?”
My head throbbed with every step back to the lobby.
