"I never—" I stopped, swallowed, tried again. My voice came out rough, cracked around the edges like old leather. "No one ever explained any of this to me. In foster care, when I presented, they just put me on suppressants and told me to keep my head down. I didn't know—I don't know—what's supposed to happen. What any of this means."
"I know." Nolan's voice was gentle, aching with empathy, his green eyes bright with emotion he wasn't trying to hide. His hand tightened around mine, warm and solid and grounding. "And I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone. But you're not alone anymore. I can explain things, if you want. Help you understand what's happening to your body."
I nodded, not trusting my voice, tears burning at the backs of my eyes. Nolan took a breath, settling more fully onto the bed, his body angling toward mine like I was the sun and he couldn't help but turn toward me. His voice was calm when he spoke,steady and reassuring, the voice of someone used to explaining difficult things in simple terms.
"Omegas are biologically driven to seek pack." His words were careful, precise, but warm rather than clinical. His green eyes held mine, soft and patient, his freckled face open and earnest. "It's not a weakness or a flaw—it's how we're built. We crave the scents of our pack members because those scents trigger chemical responses in our brains. Safety. Comfort. Belonging. When you're surrounded by pack scent, your cortisol levels drop and your oxytocin increases. It's why you're sleeping better. It's why you feel calmer around us than you have anywhere else."
Pack. The word settled into my chest, heavy and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
"But I'm not—" I stopped, swallowed hard, my voice catching on the words I wasn't sure I was allowed to say. My hands trembled in his grip, betraying the fear I was trying to hide. "I'm not pack. Not really. Not yet."
"Your biology doesn't know that." Nolan's voice was gentle, a soft smile curving his lips, his green eyes crinkling at the corners with something that looked like affection. His thumb continued its soothing path across my knuckles, steady and grounding. "Your body recognized us before your mind caught up. It happens that way sometimes—the instinct knows before the heart does."
I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know how to process the idea that my body had been making decisions without consulting me, had been reaching toward these four Alphas like a flower toward sunlight.
"There's more." Nolan's voice shifted, becoming more serious, more careful. His green eyes searched my face, concern flickering in their depths, his jaw tightening slightly. "The suppressants you were on—the cheap ones, the ones you had tosteal or buy off the street—they did damage, Aster. I can't know how much without running some tests, but I can see some of it already."
My blood went cold, fear spiking through my chest like ice.
"Damage?" The word came out barely above a whisper, cracked and terrified. My fingers clenched around his, holding on like he was the only thing keeping me from falling. "What kind of damage?"
"Your scent is emerging." Nolan's voice was calm, gentle, but I could see the concern lurking beneath his professional demeanor. His free hand rose slowly, giving me time to pull away, and brushed a strand of hair back from my face, his fingers trailing fire across my skin. "That's a good sign—it means your system is recovering. But it's been slow, which tells me there might be some lasting effects we'll need to monitor."
"My scent." I repeated the words, trying to make sense of them. My voice sounded distant to my own ears, disconnected and confused. "I didn't think I had one anymore. Not a real one. Just... nothing."
"You have one." Nolan's voice dropped, becoming softer, almost reverent, his green eyes darkening with something that made my breath catch. His nostrils flared slightly, subtle but unmistakable, his whole body seeming to lean toward me without moving. "It's getting stronger every day. Lilac and honey. It's—" He stopped, visibly reined himself in, his jaw tightening with effort, a flush climbing his freckled cheeks. "It's lovely. We've all noticed."
All of them. All four Alphas had been smelling me, noticing the changes in my body before I even knew they were happening.
"Is that—" My voice cracked, and I had to stop, had to swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat. My heart was pounding, blood rushing in my ears. "Is that why they've beenacting differently? Reid keeps... hovering. And Sawyer looks at me like—and Kol can barely sit still when I'm in the room."
"Yes." Nolan's voice was honest, direct, his green eyes holding mine with gentle intensity. His hand was still cradling mine, warm and solid, an anchor in the storm of information he was giving me. "Your emerging scent triggers instinctive responses in Alphas. The urge to protect, to provide, to—" He stopped again, his flush deepening, spreading down his neck toward the collar of his shirt. "To court. They're controlling it. We all are. But you should know that it's not just emotional, what we feel for you. There's a biological component too."
I didn't know if that made me feel better or worse. The idea that this connection between us wasn't just in my head, that there was something chemical and real and measurable—it was terrifying and comforting in equal measure.
"What about—" The words stuck in my throat, fear rising up to choke them. I had to force them out, had to know, even if the answer was something I didn't want to hear. "What about my heat? I haven't had one in—I don't even know how long. Years. Since before I started on suppressants."
Nolan was quiet for a moment, his green eyes searching my face, his expression careful and kind.
"That's one of the things I don't know." His voice was gentle but honest, not trying to soften the uncertainty or dress it up in false comfort. His thumb traced slow circles on the back of my hand, soothing and steady. "Thirteen years of suppressants, especially cheap ones, can affect the reproductive system in unpredictable ways. Your heat might come back eventually. It might not. There's no way to know until your body finishes healing."
Fear coiled in my stomach, cold and heavy.
"And if it does come back?" My voice was barely a whisper, trembling with something I couldn't name—terror, maybe, oranticipation, or some twisted combination of both. My free hand fisted in the bedsheets, knuckles going white. "I've never—I don't know how to—what would I even?—"
"Hey." Nolan's voice cut through my spiraling panic, gentle but firm, his hand releasing mine to cup my face, tilting my head until I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His green gaze was steady, calm, an anchor in the storm. His palm was warm against my cheek, his fingers curling gently around my jaw. "Whatever happens, you won't be alone. If your heat comes back, we'll deal with it together. You'll have options, choices. No one is going to force you into anything, no matter what your biology does."
"But the instincts—" I could hear the panic in my own voice, high and thin and scared. My hands were shaking, my whole body trembling with fear of something I barely understood. "I've heard stories about Omegas in heat, about how they can't control themselves, can't think, can't?—"
"Stories." Nolan's voice was firm, cutting through my fear with quiet authority, his green eyes blazing with conviction. His thumb stroked across my cheekbone, gentle and grounding, bringing me back to the present. "Most of what you've heard is exaggeration or outright lies. Heat is intense, yes. The urges are strong. But you don't lose yourself. You don't become some mindless creature controlled by biology. You're still you—just you with very strong preferences about what you want."
I let out a shaky breath, some of the fear loosening its grip on my chest.
"If I don't want—" I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't put into words the possibility that I might want something I'd never let myself imagine.
"Then you don't." Nolan's voice was simple, certain, leaving no room for doubt. His eyes held mine, steady and sure, his face so close I could see the individual freckles scattered across hisnose and cheeks. "Heat doesn't override consent. It makes you want, but it doesn't make you incapable of saying no. And any Alpha worth the name would never touch an Omega who didn't want them, heat or no heat."
I stared at him, at this gentle man who was looking at me like I was something precious rather than something broken, who was explaining things no one had ever bothered to teach me, who was promising me choices no one had ever offered.
