I'mthe reason. I always have been.
My scent. My biology. Whatever's leaking through without the suppressants—it's been affecting them this whole time. Driving them crazy. Making Zero lose control. Making Atlas protective. Making Bane swing between cruelty and something else entirely.
I'm the problem.
I'vealwaysbeen the problem.
"I have to go." I'm on my feet before I realize I'm moving. The chair scrapes back. My legs feel unsteady but I force them to work. "I shouldn't have—this was a mistake. I shouldn't have started this conversation."
"Max, wait—" Atlas reaches for me.
I'm already at the door. "I can't do this. Not tonight. Not—I just can't."
I don't wait for a response. Don't look back. Just wrench the door open and flee into the hallway, my heart hammering so hard it hurts.
My room isn't far. Just down the hall, around the corner, past the sitting area where this whole disaster started. I make it in seconds that feel like hours, slam the door behind me, twist the lock.
Back pressed against the wood. Breathing hard.
I'm shaking. Full-body tremors I can't control. My skin is too hot, my thoughts are scattered, and I can still hear Bane's voice in my head:You're an omega.
It explains everything.
A knock on the door. Soft. Hesitant.
"Max." Bane's voice. Muffled through the wood. "Can I—can we talk? Just for a minute."
I should say no. Should tell him to go away, leave me alone, let me fall apart in private.
"Please." Something in his voice cracks. "I need to apologize. For... all of it."
My hand moves to the lock before I can stop myself. Turns it. The click sounds impossibly loud.
I step back as the door opens.
Bane slips inside and closes it behind him. He's still shirtless—I'd forgotten, in the chaos of the office—and in the dim light from my window, I can see the tension in his shoulders. The way his hands hang at his sides like he doesn't know what to do with them.
"I shouldn't have said it like that." He stays by the door. Giving me space. "In front of Atlas. I just—you asked for someone to be honest, and I thought—" He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what I thought. I made it worse."
"You said what everyone was thinking."
"That doesn't make it okay."
We stare at each other across the dark room. My back is against the wall beside my bed. He's still by the door. Six feet between us. It feels like nothing. It feels like miles.
"I owe you more than that," Bane says quietly. "I owe you an apology for every shitty thing I said. Every time I made you feel like you didn't belong. Every time I looked at you like you were—" He stops. Swallows. "You didn't deserve any of it. And I'm sorry."
The words land somewhere soft and bruised inside me.
"Why?" My voice comes out hoarse. "Why were you so awful to me?"
"Because I was scared." He takes a step closer. Then another. "Because the first time I saw you, something in my chest went tight and I didn't know what it meant. And when your scent started breaking through—" Another step. "I didn't know how to handle it. So I pushed you away. Told myself you were nothing. That I didn't care."
He's close now. Too close. I can smell him—amber and sandalwood and sea salt—and my body responds without permission. Heat pooling low in my belly. Pulse quickening.
"But I do care." His voice drops. "That's the problem. I cared from the first minute I saw you. And it's driving me insane."
"Bane—"
