The months of not-so-patiently waiting and wanting and gracelessly suffering were supposed to bring us to this pointwithoutfracturing. That was the goal. It was what we'd promised one another. One Omega, keepthe pack small. A single, unbreakable bond to keep Oblivion Haze together. Ryder had originally pushed the narrative, fueled by his desire to cling to the memory of Tessa in Seattle.
It wasn’t just because of Ryder though. The Institute was accumulating data that proved the right Omega match could strengthen a pack bond, solidifying our decision. They’d claimed we’d become better because of our choice to pursue a single Omega. Monogamy-centered packs, no matter how big they became, eventually hinged on one powerful Alpha-Omega bond that ruled over the others. But a poly pack with a central Omega marked by each Alpha could become functionally unbreakable. Eros had even sold us a line that, once mated, we’d find ourselves producing the kind of music we’d only dreamed about. We’d reach a level of fame that couldn’t be topped. Maybe it was all salesman snake oil. Maybe they were just plain wrong.
As my chest tightened and I found myself breathing heavily, pulse racing, I parted my lashes to look around the room. My pack brothers were all lost inside mounting distress.Did they truly want to fight me? Or were they also just overwhelmed by Tessa’s Omega smell.Everyone talked about Alpha ferality but not match-induced Alpha insanity.
Would we even survive the solution to our growing savage problem?
Shit, I was losing the plot.
Brain going blurry.
My chest vibrated again, a snarl building.
No, I was the rational one. I was the one who didn’t lose my shit.
I almost clawed my way back to sanity. Almost.
When Tessa’s scent suddenly intensified, nothing else mattered.Wild desire. Vision going dark at the edges.
An Omega's scent was everything. It was consuming, intense, and impossible to ignore. It was unlike anything I’d ever faced. How the hell could I keep being rational, level-headed Mac with her smell wreaking havoc on my insides?
The fight to remember the plan, the fight to stay composed, the fight to not make a move before the others beat me to the punch. It was harder than any struggle I'd ever known. Harder than the years of trying tosuppress what it meant to be an Alpha. Harder than getting hit for fucking up a note in a difficult piano song. Harder than being locked in the closet when I wasn’t being godly. Harder than ignoring the black hole which had grown larger inside of me over the years. The guys had their own worries and their own struggles. It’s why I kept my own pain silent.
Dixon's snarl grew louder. My gaze found him, and the raw aggression in his eyes matched the way I was feeling inside. His scent was still the most aggressive, filling the room with a warped version of his normal cologne. Unpleasant, sharp, top notes of vinegar ruined the seductive base notes of brown sugar and bourbon. That’s what his Alpha scent always smelled like to me at least. Tray looked like he might be sick. Ryder was bent over, arms crossed over his chest, nails digging into his upper arms so viciously that a trickle of blood was trailing down towards one elbow. As if he sensed me staring, his head shot up and he glared at me.
With zero warning or reason, I felt a sharp burst of undulated hate towards him. He had the best chance of taking Tessa for himself. He’d known her first, kissed her first, wanted her for longer. He’d also pushed us into a stalemate. One Omega. It had to be one Omega. Could he see the damn future? Was this always his plan? Lead us down a path towards Tessa so he could get what he truly wanted and the rest of us would be left with a shadow of a mate while he consumed her?
No.
Stop it, Mac.
I shook my head hard, clearing the cloud of unreasonable doubt.
I had so little control right now. I had to cleave to the remnants of remaining sanity with all my might.Why was it so hard to stay rational?
The air was so thick with the scent of her now that I forgot what the world used to smell like. It made me dizzy. Made my dick throb. Made me want to rub one out in the middle of the living room.
My gaze finally flashed to the bag in Cat’s hands. She’d slightly torn it open using a notch in the plastic. She was frozen in place now, fingers no longer trying to free the medical gown. Her faded blue eyes were widewith anxiety, cheeks bright pink and lips slightly parted. Cat’s chest was hitching as she tried to breathe.
She’d never been afraid of us, but she might be now. The sight of her, thank fuck, was enough to bring me to my senses. Not completely, but to a point where I was no longer controlled by the primal side of myself. Seeing and thinking clearer, I realized the others had closed in on Catalina, surrounding her with a wall of unyielding muscle. I closed the distance between me and them, putting a hand on both Dixon’s and Ryder’s chests who stood sentinel on either side of our well-loved publicist. Both Dixon and Ryder bristled, and for a heartbeat I was pretty damn sure they were going to deck me at the same time.
“You’re scaring Cat,” I said softly, voice strained. My instincts were still hovering just below the surface. It wouldn’t take much to ignite rage. If they really tried to hit me, I didn’t think anything, or anyone, could stop a bloody, barbarous scuffle from happening.
“Hey,” I spoke again, a little louder. “Cat is scared. Back. Off.”
Ryder blinked first. Dixon blinked second. They both, in tandem, tilted their heads down to focus on Catalina. Their faces flooded with shame, and they stepped away, retreating to their respective corners of the room.
Tray, who’d been standing behind her, bounced away, manic energy joining a fresh puff of his own gone-acrid, Alpha aroma. “I’m good,” he mumbled quickly.
I retreated too, giving Catalina room to breathe.
Silence bloomed.
Even the growling didn’t make a comeback.
Catalina’s voice shook when she finally spoke. “If you guys don't get under control, you'll scare the hell out of Tessa when she arrives. You'll lose your match before you can even mark her.”
Her words made each of us snarl with anger. It was involuntary. Fuck, I couldn’t help myself, and I doubted the others had a choice either. Cat’s words were tantamount to the worst kind of threat. Even suggesting our Alphas could lose our mate felt like a physical, gaping wound.
