“That‘s the one!” His smile widens. “You’re a lifesaver. I thought I was going to get fired for losing a prop that cost more than my first car.”
“It happens,” I say, because it does. And then I freeze. The scent that hits me is so strong it momentarily knocks every other thought out of my head.
It's coming from both of them, a scent unlike anything I've encountered before.
“Maya?” Adrian‘s brow furrows with concern. “You okay?”
I realize I’ve been staring at them, mouth half-open, for several seconds too long. “Fine,” I say quickly. “Just a long morning.”
“Take a break,” Bash says. “Even superheroes need to sit down sometimes.”
“We‘re not the superheroes in this movie,” Adrian points out.
“Speak for yourself,” Bash replies. “My character definitely has superpowers. They’re just...” He waves a hand. “More subtle. The power of being really, really charming, for example.”
Adrian rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “We‘d better get to set,” he says to me. “Thanks for keeping us organized.”
They move away, and I stand there, fighting the strange, spinning sensation in my head. What the hell was that? I've worked around hundreds of people over the years and never once had a reaction like that.
“You look like you’re about to fall over.”
Nadia’s voice cuts through my confusion. She appears at my side, linking her arm through mine and steering me toward the chairs set up behind the monitors. “When’s the last time you ate something that wasn‘t coffee?”
“Breakfast,” I say automatically. “Bagel. Cream cheese.”
“Mmmhmm.” She guides me to a chair and pushes me into it. “And that breakfast was...?”
“Yesterday morning?”
She shakes her head, reaching into her bag to pull out a protein bar. “Eat. You’re turning gray.”
Nadia Reeves is playing the female lead in this blockbuster-to-be, but more importantly, she’s been my best friend since we were five. We grew up next door to each other, went to the same schools, applied to the same colleges. She was always going to end up on camera—even as a kid, she had that indefinable quality that made people stop and look. I was always going to end up behind it.
I take the protein bar and tear it open. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just tired.”
“You‘re not fine,” she says, dropping into the chair next to mine. “Something's been up with you all week. I can tell.”
“It’s nothing.” I take a bite of the bar. It's chocolate peanut butter, and I have to force myself not to inhale the entire thing in one go.
“Your scent’s changing,” Nadia says, her voice lower now.
I almost choke.“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not like that. I’m not picking up anything weird. But you smell different. More...” She pauses, thinking.“Present, I guess? Like usually I can barely tell you’re there, scent-wise. But this week, it’s stronger.”
I swallow hard. “That’s not a thing.”
“It absolutely is,” she says. “Betas have weaker scents. Everyone knows that.”
I‘ve heard it, of course—the whole hierarchy of secondary genders, with alphas and omegas at the extremes and betas making up the comfortable middle. Strong scents, weak scents, compatibility, attraction. But it’s never been something I’ve thought about for myself. I'm a beta. None of that has ever felt particularly relevant to my life.
“It’s probably just because we‘ve been in this stuffy warehouse for four months,” I say. “Everyone smells different.”
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go. “Director’s calling me. Eat the rest of that, or I’m telling your mom you’re skipping meals again.”
I make a face at her back as she walks away, but I do eat the protein bar. And she‘s right—I feel better almost immediately, the weird dizziness receding. I check my watch—fifteen minutes until we start filming. Just enough time to finish the prop inventory and check in with the second AD.
I’m halfway across the set when I see Elias Stone moving along the edge of the room. He’s the head of security for the production—a former military guy, from what I’ve heard, though no one seems to know exactly what branch or for how long. He’s quiet with eyes that seem to take in everything at once. I’ve only spoken to him maybe three times in four months, and eachtime he’s been polite but distant, like he’s keeping track of the interaction rather than actually participating in it.
