He makes a helpless gesture, like even now he can't quite describe it.
I can. I've heard about it my whole life.
Scent match.
You don't choose them. You just find them. Or you don't. Most don't. But when you do—
The world tilts.
It's happening again.
"How do you know it wasn't just strong compatibility?" My voice breaks. Please let it be compatibility. Please let this be something manageable.
"Because," Drake says softly, "Eli went to see her, too."
My head whips toward Eli. "You did?"
His eyes are full of apology. "We had to be sure. It's not common. But with how unsettled Drake was, we needed more data."
Data.
"What happened?" The question comes out as a whisper.
"I approached her. Introduced myself, checked her chart. And when I came within a few feet, her scent locked. My instincts responded in the same way Drake's did. Not as intense, maybe, but unmistakable."
My ears ring. "And Ragon?"
Ragon's jaw tightens. His scent flares—irritation, reluctance, something jagged. "I met her later. Her scent hit me like a blunt force."
Oh god.
Oh god.
All three of them.
It's their scent match. All three.
The room spins. My chest constricts. I can't breathe. Ican't—
"Her name is Marie," Drake says, and the name lands like a stone in my stomach. "She's at the registry now. We've been seeing her. Talking to her."
It's happening again.
The registry. They're talking about the registry. Where omegas get returned. Where I got returned.
"For two months." My voice sounds hollow. "You've been seeing her for two months."
My first pack waited three weeks after finding their scent match before they told me. These three waited two months. Two months of secret meetings, of getting to know her, of falling for her while I baked cookies and folded laundry and thought I was safe.
"Oh god, it's happening again." The words burst out. "Almost five years together and now you don't want me anymore."
"Vee—" Drake starts, reaching for me.
I pull back. "You found your scent match. Yourrealomega. The one you're biologically meant to have. Now that you're getting the real thing, you don't need me anymore." My voice is rising, panic clawing up my throat. "I should have known. I should have fucking known when you bought all those blankets today. That was a goodbye gift, wasn't it? Make sure the defective omega has nice things before you send her back—"
"Stop," Ragon says, voice sharp. "Stop right there."
"Why?" Tears are streaming down my face now. "So you can break it to me gently? Tell me how I'll find another pack someday? How it's not me, it's just biology? I've heard it before, Ragon. Ilivedit before. I don’t get another pack. It just happens all over again. They all just use meand throw me away. I’m never enough. And I can't—I can't go back there. I can't go back to that fucking registry and wait in those cold rooms for someone else to pick me up and use me until they find something better—"
