Expensive gummies, by the look of the packaging. Some kind of boutique supplement brand with a name I can't pronounce and an ingredient list that probably cost more than my rent. "Iron & B12 Complex," the label reads. "For Optimal Vitality."
Did this strange, beautiful, emotionally unavailable man just give me vitamins?
I look up, confusion surely written across every feature, just in time to watch him shrug on a pullover. Even his casual clothes scream money—I recognize the Ralph Lauren polo logo on the chest immediately, the kind of simple elegance that costs more than most people's car payments.
"Take those twice a day," he says without looking at me, smoothing down the pullover with practiced efficiency. "Before you find yourself passed out in a gym." He pauses, and something almost like irritation flickers across his features. "Don't need any more omegas getting taken advantage of. Bullshit rumors running up the news, especially in this small town of nothingness."
Small town of nothingness. So he's not from here. Rich, precise, clearly important, and definitely not from a place where the biggest news is whether the hardware store will get a new shipment of snow shovels.
I'm so confused by his behavior—one second cold and dismissive, the next offering me bougie supplements and what might, if you squint, be considered concern—that I don't manage to form words before he's walking away.
His stride is efficient, purposeful, covering ground with the kind of authority that comes from someone used to having doors opened and obstacles removed. He doesn't look back. Doesn't pause. Doesn't give any indication that our bizarre interaction meant anything at all.
And then he's gone, disappearing through the door to the Alpha weight room, leaving me standing alone in the suddenly too-quiet gym.
His scent lingers.
That's the thing about Alpha scents—they don't just evaporate when the Alpha leaves. They cling to the air, to your skin, to your clothes if you stood close enough. And I'd stoodveryclose. Close enough that his patchouli-vanilla-spice-and-secrets fragrance has wrapped around me like an invisible embrace.
I breathe it in—can't help it—and the scent makes me dizzy. Not in the unpleasant way, not like the curdled wrongness of Damien and his pack. This is different. This is like standing atthe edge of a cliff and wanting to jump, knowing the fall might kill you but also might teach you how to fly.
This is the best combination of scents I've ever smelled from an Alpha.
The realization hits me like a punch to the sternum—unexpected and completely devastating.
I look down at the gummies still clutched in my hand, then back at the door he disappeared through. The supplement bottle is warm from his grip, and I'm holding it like it's something precious rather than an overpriced vitamin from a stranger who essentially told me I looked like I was about to faint.
What just happened?
Who was that?
My omega is practically vibrating under my skin, which is ridiculous—I've sworn off Alphas, remember? I'm runningfromAlphas. I don't need another pack, don't need another controlling, manipulative, well-dressed nightmare trying to claim me like property.
But he didn't try to claim you, did he?a traitorous voice whispers.He just... gave you gummies. Told you to take care of yourself. Left without demanding anything in return.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts.
It doesn't work.
The gym is still empty, still quiet, but it feels different now. Like the air itself has been rearranged. Like something has shifted on a molecular level and nothing will quite fit the same way again.
I tuck the gummies into my duffle bag—carefully, like they might shatter—and grab my phone. The recording I'd been making is still saved, twenty-six pull-ups and a phone call from hell captured for posterity. I'll delete it later. Probably. Maybe.
For now, I need to leave before any more mysterious Alphas appear out of nowhere to give me unsolicited health advice and devastatingly good scent signatures.
I make it three steps toward the exit before I stop.
Turn back.
Look at the door he disappeared through one more time.
"Fuck," I whisper, wondering who this Alpha is and if I'll ever see him again.
CHAPTER 3
Beehives And Bounties
~JULIAN~
