Unusually for an alpha, Devon isn’t part of a pack. He shuns the mainstream notion that alphas belong in a group and enjoys being, as he puts it, “a lone wolf.” Some people give him a wide berth because of his alternative appearance, but he’s one of the kindest guys I’ve ever met—when he’s not being sassy as hell.
“How much caffeine have you had this morning?” Devon gently pats the head of the rubber duck statue he has on his desk—something he does for good luck whenever he finishes posting a response for his column. A bizarre tradition, but he hasn’t had a bad piece yet, so maybe there’s something in it. “You’ve got that crazy Kady look in your eyes that you know I love.”
I sweep my hair up into a bun to signal I mean business. “I’m looking for a lead.”
I connect my laptop toThe Valley Voiceserver then head straight to the paper’s shared inbox to scroll through the anonymous tips, hoping I can find one that relates to the speed scenting.
“You’re not messing around! What’s got you so hot and bothered?” His eyebrows wiggle, making his piercings do the wave. “Something juicy?”
There are already fifty new emails to look through from yesterday. Some of them have subject headlines like ‘Alpha on steroids?’ and ‘Used condom found in the library!’ but nothing jumps out as I skim through.
“C’mon, what can I do? Let me in on the action.” Devon wheels himself over to my desk, his giant fire-patterned New Rocks stomping on the floor. “I just finished writing next week’scolumn. If I have to write one more reply about a beta pining over an alpha who isn’t interested, I’ll?—”
“Keep writing!” Leah choruses from the other side of the office. How can she even hear us from that far away? Sometimes I question whether she has this place bugged. “Your last letter about the alpha wanting to give his omega a bonding bite on the ass was one of our most viewed ever.”
Devon rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s pleased. He’s a talented writer—one of the best here—and loves what he does. I encouraged him to apply for the editor role, but he’s adamant that he doesn’t want to be in a position of power or have any more responsibility.
“I heard a rumor about a pack trying to rig a speed scenting mixer.” My eyes squint in concentration, clicking through the emails impatiently. “I’m looking for any clues to which pack it was.”
Devon puts his hands behind his head, reclining in his chair. “Well, you don’t need to look in the inbox for that.”
“Shit.” My stomach drops. “Am I too late? What’s happened? Has someone else already got the scoop?” If another reporter is already covering the story, I’m done for. We have a strict “first come, first scoop” policy.
“Oh no, it’s not that.” Devon clicks his heels together gleefully. “I already know which pack it was. One of my friends was at the matching and told me about it. There’s no proof—obviously.” He winks dramatically. “But there was only one pack escorted out, holding a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like AlphaPrime.”
AlphaPrime is a gimmick cologne that no real alpha would use if they wanted to be taken seriously. The formula claims to “help attract omegas,” but there’s zero proof it works. Basically, the makers are preying on alphas who are dumb enough to believe its bogus marketing. Regardless, the intention behind itbeing found at a scenting mixer would be enough to get any pack thrown out.
“And?” My heart leaps in excitement, the way it always does when I get a whiff of a new story, almost forgetting that it’s my own life at stake here. “Which pack was it?”
When he names the pack, I slump in my chair, my enthusiasm vanishing in a flash.Damn.Why did it have to be the Blandon Pack?
Tyler Blandon and his two packmates, Kyro and Shea Cockburn, are SVU’s least eligible alphas. They’re all in their final year yet made it clear that they only came to college to find an omega from day one. In fact, I even wrote a letter to Dean Rivers during intake week to complain about Kyro sniffing around omega freshman. Omegas come to SVU to study in a safe environment, not to be harassed by desperate alphas with terrible attitudes. From the sounds of it, when Kyro cornered poor Faye before Sabs rescued her, he almost scared her straight back to Clover Hollow.
But I’m in no position to be choosy. I can suck up my pride and temporarily put up with the Blandon Pack if it means keeping my ring finger vacant, right?
“Thanks, Devon.” I stash my laptop back into my bag. “I owe you some of Mei’s chili noodles.”
“And vegetable dumplings.” He fluffs his mohawk. “If you’re going to the alpha quad to look for them, I can come with. If you want company?”
“Turning up with an alpha may make them hostile. They’ll respond better to a lone omega.” I neglect to mention the real reason why I want to speak to them. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Phew.” He wipes his forehead. “I don’t think they’d be too pleased to see me anyway. We were neighbors last year.” Hegrimaces. “They still live in House 29 as far as I know. I’m sure you’ll smell it before you see it. You’ll see for yourself.”
“I owe you one.”
“I know.” He twirls back to his desk. “And don’t forget the food next time.”
“You got it.”
“Let me know how it goes, Kady,” Leah calls as I pace past. “If there’s a story there, I know you’ll find it.”
I nod in steely determination as I fly out of the door, finding the nearest golf cart, and slamming my foot on the gas.
It’s a beautiful fall morning, and the campus is abuzz with activity. Many students are cozying up in coffee shops or hurrying to the library, arms laden with books, now that we’re well into the term.
Halloween is this Friday, so decorations are everywhere. Pumpkins adorn practically every store entrance, along with other spooky displays. Nora’s Nesting Nook has gone all out for the occasion—instead of their usual cozy blankets and drapes, they’ve put out a bare mattress and grimy hole-ridden sheets in the window. I shiver at the sight of it. That’s definitely scarier to an omega than any zombie or monster.
I duck to avoid being hit in the face by fake cobwebs and spiders as I whiz underneath low-hanging branches. Across the sprawling lawns, fake tombstones have been resurrected, and posters hang everywhere advertising the Monster Masquerade at Club Knotty on Friday.
