“Let’s give Revea some space from your seduction, Syl,” he murmurs, leaving Sylvan flummoxed as they retreat down the stairs.
I shut the door, lean against it, then slide down to the floor. “Fuck.”
Kaiden
Syl: Where are you?
The fourth message in ten minutes. He never texts repeatedly. We’re lucky if we get any response in the group chat. Yet here he is, blowing up my phone over an omega that’s somehow captured the attention of my entire pack.
It’s strange seeing Sylvan like this, interested in something or someone other than the company or us.
He’s been with omegas before, a night here and there, never the same woman twice. Not often. Sylvan isn’t really interested in sex. He says it keeps his ‘needs sated’, like eating or sleeping. Simple. Transactional.
But Sylvan doesn’t lie.
So if the omega starts talking about meeting the pack, or anything more serious, he tells them the same thing he tells us.We had sex. I don’t want her for the pack.That honesty doesn’t always go over well.
When the four of us formed as a pack, having an omega wasn’t something we discussed much, if at all. We left the military, created the business, and whenever an omega happened to cross one of our paths, we tried. But there was always something… off.
Often, it was Sylvan who disapproved. The last omega Luc introduced him to at a charity benefit was cut down with a blunt,“I don’t like her scent.”
Right there, in front of her.
Val is the second worst, grunting through any conversation that mentions omegas or pack dating apps.
And I’m indifferent. Not because I lack interest, but because I trust my pack. If they don’t think someone is a good fit, she isn’t. End of discussion.
But now I’m here, about to meet an omega that not one, butthreeof my pack approve of.
Last night, Sylvan announced I would be meeting her tomorrow. Not a suggestion or request, but a blunt command dressed up as a pre-organised meeting.
The man who was once least interested in having an omega is now commanding me to come meet one.
My phone buzzes again, but I’m already rounding the corner of the street where the tall glass building sits. I spot the company installing the retina scanner, three vans already lined up outside with their logo painted on the side.
I shake my head, still in disbelief that Sylvan ordered it. He didn’t even run it past us. When I asked him why, he simply said,“She needed it.”And I honestly didn’t know how to respond. Val’s lips twitched. Luc just laughed.
I walk past the men installing the scanner, a mixture of betas and alphas. We briefly acknowledge each other, subtly scenting the air, and their eyes immediately drop. Most people’s do.
You’re taught alpha dynamics from your family, in school, and again in the military. That’s when you’re taught about what happens when you’re mixed up with large groups of alphas, how it can trigger dormant genes, forging more dominant alphas.
I didn’t believe it until I grew three inches overnight and my muscle mass increased. It wasn’t only the physical changes. My bark became more potent, giving me the ability to command other alphas, and my scent gained an undertone that ignites a sense of danger. Strangers struggle to keep eye contact and always give me extra space.
I prefer it that way. The people who know me trust me. That’s all I care about.
I follow one of the men as he enters through the revolving doors. He looks over his shoulder a few times while de-scenting mist covers us, and when the doors move again, he races out to his team already inside.
It’s much bigger inside than the CCTV made it look. Wide open spaces, tall ceilings, white marble floors, everything sparkling and pristine. Some beige blankets are scattered over the ground for the install, dust already covering clear sheets wrapping the furniture. Apart from that and the installation team, I don’t see anyone.
No Sylvan or this renowned omega.
I stroll around, trying to settle my alpha with the sudden lack of scents in a new area while getting a feel for the building my men can’t seem to stay away from. I move to the reception area, noting pictures decorating the back wall.
Stepping behind the large counter, I study the vivid collage of photos, and one stands out. A large group of people, all smiling, holding up a sign withShear Instinctin cursive text, and in the middle, a woman with pink hair.
She’s attractive—has the classic omega look. Soft body, big eyes, nice smile. Nothing unusual there.
I keep looking. There’s some with her in smaller groups, one beside a woman with bright, scarlet hair, another outside what looks like a small hotel, but I pause over the one with her two brothers. Rue and Rowan.
