More handshakes. More assessment. Drake's smile is genuine but guarded. Eli's nod is measured.
"And these are our omegas," Ragon continues, turning toward us.
Jasper's gaze sweeps over both of us.
I brace for him to look at Marie first. Everyone does. The biology is loud—she's their scent match, the one they're meant to want.
But Jasper's eyes land on me.
Not in the way alphas sometimes look at omegas—possessive or hungry or claiming. Just... attentive. Present. Like I'm the data point he came here to assess.
"Vee," he says.
Not a question. He already knows which one I am.
"Jasper."
His mouth doesn't quite smile. He turns to Marie, and I see the slight shift in his attention—polite, respectful, but not pulled. "Marie."
"Hi." Her voice is smaller than usual. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
He turns back to Ragon. "Give me the tour?"
They disappear down the hallway, Jasper's sharp gaze taking in every detail. The others relax slightly once he's gone.
Drake exhales loudly. "Well. That was intense."
"He's direct," Eli says carefully.
"He's scary," Marie whispers.
I don't say anything.
Because the truth is, I don't know if I'm scared or relieved.
Scared that he sees right through me.
Relieved that maybe, just maybe, that's not a dealbreaker.
***
Dinner is a careful dance.
Jasper sits at the table like he's been here for months, not hours. He asks questions—polite, pointed questions about routines and schedules and how we divide labor. He listens more than he talks. When he does speak, his words are economical. No wasted syllables.
Marie answers eagerly, wanting to prove she knows the systems. Drake jokes to cut the tension. Eli provides measured, thoughtful responses.
I pick at my food and try not to feel like I'm being examined.
But I notice things.
The way Drake's hand automatically finds Marie's under the table.
The way Eli's eyes track to her when she speaks, like he's cataloging her comfort level.
The way Ragon's scent softens just slightly when she laughs.
