He smirks. "You'd be right."
His scent is strong but not suffocating. Spiced wood, something sharp and clean. It pokes at the omega instincts in my bones and finds a wall instead of an open door.
"What are you doing here, little omega? Thought your pack would keep you under lock and key after the zoo."
My jaw clenches at the memory. "I joined a dance class. Apparently it's allowed as long as someone drives me."
"Hmm." His gaze drifts briefly toward the studio window, then back. "And where's your blundering alpha today? The one who thought domineering you in public was a good look."
"Home. Paperwork. Payroll. Alpha things."
Chase arches a brow. "And they just let you wander around a gym full of strangers?"
"There's another one in the car. He's probably timing my every breath."
Chase's mouth quirks. "Which one?"
"The calm one. Glasses. Tea. Minding his own business until he's not."
"The medic. At the zoo. He looked like he wanted to take someone's throat out and do sutures at the same time."
"That's Eli. How did you know he's a medic?"
His brows rise a fraction as he ignores my question. "He's your ride, and he's staying outside."
I shrug. "He respects my autonomy."
"Or he's too used to you making yourself small to notice how exposed you are," Chase says, glancing around meaningfully.
Two alphas at the squat rack. One at the cable machine. A bonded couple on treadmills. No one's looking at me like a snack, but he's not wrong.
"I'm fine. I prefer not having someone breathing down my neck."
"Do you?" He leans forward, resting forearms on his knees. "Seems to me your pack lets you wander alone a lot. Zoo. Now here. Places teeming with other alphas. Not exactly what I'd call best practices."
I feel the flicker of what could be defensiveness, but it fizzles. "We have different definitions of best. I don't want chaperones."
"No. You want competence."
My mouth twitches. "Is that what you're selling?"
He smiles outright, slow and sharp. "I'm selling a pack where you don't walk around smelling like an unguarded minor crime scene."
It's a vivid image. I grimace. "Thanks."
He laughs, low. Sobers. "You smell off. Faded. Like someone took a scrub brush to you."
I lift my chin. "No scent blockers."
"I know. That's the problem. No good pack lets their omega walk around smelling like a question mark in a city this full of answers."
"It doesn't matter. I'm not... I don't feel like an omega anymore."
He watches me, attention heavy and unflinching. "That's not how biology works."
"It's how I work now. I'm not trying to fix it."
He leans back, one hand braced on the bench. "You said something at the zoo. About not being able to wear your own alpha's mark. You looked like someone reached into your chest and rearranged the furniture."
