Find the omega, and keep her safe from the pack that hired us until we have answers.
Chapter 2
Olly
“As I was saying…” I huff out in exasperation, trying to get the attention of the guys. I’ve known most of them, save Emmett, for years, since we all grew up in the same pack, attended the same institute: The Delta Institute. Though I wouldn’t necessarily consider them my friends, I can respect their skillset and their command as teammates, and I like to think they respect me and mine. At least when it comes to being clinical and observing.
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it,” Emmett says, dismissing me with a wave as Gage takes off for base.
“I’m sure you noticed her scent,” I say, and just the words elicit groans of desire from Gage and Diego.
“Fuck, was it that good?” Emmett asks, looking at me.
I shrug. “I can’t really comment onthat,” I say defensively. I know Emmett isn’t trying to be a dick, and by all pack standards, even as a beta I should be affected onsomelevel by the scent of an omega.
But it does nothing for me, not in the way it does for them. I don’t get all primal or hard or feel the need to rut and claim, which is typical for most alphas and betas.
It’s not her, though. I’m like this with everyone. Every omega I’ve ever been in contact with is the same.
I feel nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary like I’m supposed to, and Auryn is no different. Clinically, I know it’s rare to be both a beta and asexual. But I guess I won the scientific lottery or something, because not only am I both of those things, I’m also technically classified as ASD, on the autistic spectrum, which makes it extra difficult for me to fit in, even when I am part of a team like this one.
“But you did smell her?” Emmett asks. I sigh, knowing I might as well answer him or he’ll just keep pestering me.
“Yes.”
“And was it good?” he presses.
“It was okay, I guess.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I mean, there are worse smells for sure. Like charred cherries and smoke, which is what Emmett smells like. Diego laughs as Gage sighs, letting out a curse.
“Let the man talk, Em.”
Emmett shrugs, grinning at me. “Just proving that good old doc’s sniffer still works,” he chuckles. “Even if other things don’t.”
I glare at him.My dick works just fine, asshole. I just don’t run on the same instincts as you. I’m not a fucking neanderthal.
I clear my throat. “As I was saying, omegas have textbook scents, right? Lemongrass, vanilla frosting, apple pie, lilies, all that jazz, right?”
“Fucking apple pie…” Emmett groans. “I love apple pie.” I smack him, and he has the audacity to act as if I actually hurt him.
“Sorry, Olly. Continue,” he says. Emmett is like an overgrown child. I learned firsthand he also listens like one.
“But her scent was…layered.”
“What do you mean ‘layered’?” Diego asks. “All I smelled was lemongrass.”
“Same,” Gage says. “Like lemongrass and sunshine.”
I purse my lips. “You didn’t smell cinnamon or peppercorn?”
Diego turns to shoot me a curious look. “No. Did you?”
I nod. “It’s…not common for an omega to smell spicy.”
“Maybe your sniffer is broken,” Emmett says as we pull into the covered garage at base.
“Doubt it,” I snap as I get out of the car. “I have that extra sensory ability you lack.”
I don’t mean it to sound rude or mean, but it must come off that way because as soon as I’m out of the car, Emmett’s got me up against the side of it, baring his teeth at me, his hand fisting in my shirt.
