I pressed my hand against my chest, where the golden thread of that bond hummed beneath my skin. It was quieter now, after sleep, but still there. Still present. Still wanting.
My omega stretched lazily, waking up alongside me.
Are we going to see him today?that inner voice asked, perking up with hope.Our alpha? Are we going to let him scent us properly this time? Maybe he'll hold us again. Maybe he'll?—
"We're not going anywhere near him," I muttered, throwing off the covers and climbing out of my nest. The movement sent a wave of dizziness through me, and I had to grab the bedpost to steady myself. My head throbbed. My mark throbbed. Everything throbbed in time with my heartbeat, like my entire body was one giant bruise.
The scent hit me the moment I moved, sweeter than it had been last night, more distinct. Lilies and rain, no longer a faint undertone but an actual presence. If I could smell it this clearly, other people would be able to smell it too.
Alphas would be able to smell it.
Good, my omega purred.Let them smell us. Let them know we're available. Let them?—
"Absolutely not." I practically ran to the bathroom, yanking open the cabinet and grabbing my scent blockers. I applied them liberally, way more than the recommended amount, enough that my skin felt tacky with it, and prayed it would be enough to mask the omega scent breaking through my failing suppressants.
The face that stared back at me from the mirror looked marginally better than last night. The dark circles were still there, purpling the delicate skin beneath my grey eyes, but the wild, haunted look had faded somewhat. My hair was a disaster, I'd gone to bed with it wet from the shower, and now the blackand teal strands were sticking up in approximately fifty different directions.
I spent twenty minutes wrestling it into something presentable, blow-drying the worst of the tangles and flat-ironing the teal pieces until they lay smooth and shiny against my cheekbones. The color had faded to more of a seafoam than the vibrant teal I preferred, the black roots showing more than I liked, but there was no time to fix it now.
A little concealer hid the worst of the dark circles. A little lip balm made me look less like a corpse. I looked almost normal. I looked almost like the Keira who had existed before yesterday, before the collision, before the bond, before everything had changed.
Almost, my omega agreed, her voice soft and knowing.But not quite. Never again quite.
I ignored her and went to get dressed. I chose my outfit carefully, professional but unremarkable, the kind of thing that would help me fade into the background. Dark jeans. A loose grey sweater that covered my mark completely. Flat boots that I could run in if I needed to.
I tried not to think about why that last consideration felt so important.
The walk was quiet. Though I couldn't shake the sensation that people were looking at me. Alphas on the train turned their heads slightly as I passed. Betas giving me curious glances. An omega woman in a business suit meeting my eyes and smiling like we shared a secret.
They can smell you, my omega whispered, equal parts nervous and thrilled.The blockers aren't strong enough anymore. Everyone knows what you are.
That couldn't be right. I'd applied enough blocker to mask an elephant. It was just paranoia, just my omega making me hyperaware of every alpha in a three-mile radius.
But I couldn't stop checking over my shoulder. Couldn't stop watching the alphas who got too close. Couldn't stop wondering if one of them might have that sunshine-citrus scent, if one of them might look at me and know what I was running from.
Narvi Entertainment headquarters loomed ahead of me, all glass and steel and corporate intimidation. I hesitated on the sidewalk outside, my heart doing something complicated in my chest.
Somewhere in that building, Hwan was probably going about his day, practicing choreography, recording vocals, being impossibly beautiful and bright while I fell apart in his wake. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach flip in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant, and I hated myself for it.
He's in there, my omega whispered, pressing against my consciousness like a dog straining at a leash.I can feel him. The bond can feel him. We should find him. We should?—
"We should go to our meeting," I said firmly, earning a strange look from a woman passing by, "and do our job, and not think about him at all."
I squared my shoulders and walked inside.
The elevator ride up to Conference Room 3A felt like ascending to my own execution. With every floor that passed, my heart beat a little faster, my palms grew a little sweatier, and my omega became a little more alert.
What if he's there?she asked, her voice pitched high with hope.What if we see him again? What if?—
"He won't be," I said under my breath. "Jin-ho is the lyricist. They probably don't even work in the same part of the building."
But what if?—
"Shut up." The beta man standing next to me edged away slightly. I didn't blame him. The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the hallway before I could lose my nerve. Conference Room 3A was at the end of a long corridor lined withframed gold records and promotional posters. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look at the images of SIREN that seemed to watch me from every wall.
Five faces.
Five potential bonds.
