She laughed. "The launch of the new athletic wear company next month. I’m their ambassador."
Of course. The launch party. The one she'd mentioned more than once already. I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Right. Yes, you should bring it. Show it off.” I said, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. I focused, trying once again to bridge the distance I kept feeling between us. "What are you most excited about?" I asked, trying to get some type of real response from her. She didn’t even look up at me before answering.
"The exposure. This could be huge for my personal brand." She said, and I nodded, wondering if I’d ever get to smell that intoxicating scent of hers.
“Arabella,” I said, breaking her from her phone addiction.
“Yes?” She asked, looking up at me with those big blue eyes.
“Do you feel comfortable enough with our pack yet to let us smell your perfume?” I asked, dropping all pretenses. She looked surprised, then glanced away. I reached out, threading my fingers through her hand. It had been so long since I smelled it, and the alpha part of me was aching to get another hit. That part of me knew exactly what to do. Claim the omega. I looked at her, practically pleading. “It was so incredible, but I could barely smell it at the gala. I’d love to smell it again.” I said, hoping she felt secure enough to share her scent. We’d been courting for almost two months now.
“Ah, well.” She said, biting her lip. “Yes, I’ll let you smell my perfume - when the time is right.” She said with a nod.
“Alright,” I answered, sitting back. She wasn’t ready yet. Maybe there was some trauma associated with it, but either way, I wouldn’t push. I knew someday when we bonded, and she had her heats, we’d smell each other’s scent for days. She could make the whole house smell like her, and I’d be in blissful heaven. We’d build a future with her, one step at a time.
It was just difficult to imagine that future when I couldn’t know the deepest parts of her. She was already back to talking aboutsponsorship opportunities and future media appearances. The enthusiasm in her voice was real enough, but I found myself struggling to connect with it.
I wanted to know who she was beneath all of that, what made her happy when nobody was watching, and what kept her awake at night. Instead, every conversation seemed to circle back toward appearances, publicity, and her social media. The worst part was that she wasn't doing anything wrong. She was trying so hard to show us the image of a perfect omega.
So why did it feel like we were standing on opposite sides of a wall?
The question dragged old memories to the surface. Growing up, I had watched my parents spend nearly twenty years forcing a relationship that should never have happened. They had looked compatible in every measurable way. From the outside, they seemed perfect. But inside our home, they were miserable.
By the time I was old enough to understand what was happening, I realized that basic compatibility wasn't enough. People needed to be true matches, not just random people with a few things in common. Watching my parents slowly destroy themselves had shaped more of my life than I liked admitting. It was one of the reasons Vale Labs existed at all. I never wanted another family trapped in a bond that wasn't truly right.
People deserved certainty, and for years, I believed we were building a product that would help give people the certainty they needed. But now, I was starting to grow antsy. I was beginning todistrust my own knowledge. Arabella was our perfect match, yet every time I left one of our dates, I felt exactly the same as when I'd arrived - uncertain.
The realization was horrible, because it meant one of two things - either the technology was wrong, or I was so damaged by my own upbringing that I couldn’t connect with the one person who would truly bring our pack together.
The first possibility was unacceptable. Years of research, thousands of successful matches, and everything I'd built rested on the assumption that our system worked. I had dedicated too much of my life to that belief to abandon it now.
Which left the other option - something was wrong withme. And from the way I couldn't stop thinking of that small, lab-obsessed omega instead of the amazing one in front of me, I was starting to suspect that I was the one who was damaged.
Chapter 31
Ivy
After hours of research, I found out more about alpha commands within families - but I really didn’t like what it said about me. My eyes roamed over the title of the study I pulled up.
Alpha Vocal Dominance Within Family Structures.
I stared at the research paper, rereading the same section over and over as a horrible realization slowly settled over me. The study focused on alpha dominance, primarily parent to child, and explained that alpha barks were strongest when obedience patterns already existed.
My eyes strained as I read the next part. “Most mature omegas eventually developed enough independence to resist commands that conflicted with their well-being, especially after formingrelationships or support systems outside their families. But some never did. Omegas who remained emotionally, financially, or socially dependent on dominant family members often experienced stronger obedience responses well into adulthood.”
And from what I could gather, the more dependent the omega, the stronger the command.
My body shook as I continued reading. Every example in the study felt uncomfortably familiar. I worked for the family company, and I lived in the family home. My social life revolved around people connected to my family. Even my accomplishments somehow became Arabella's accomplishments. Every time I tried to think of a major decision I'd made entirely for myself, I came up empty. For years, I had told myself that I stayed with my family because I preferred the lab, because I wasn't very social, because it was easier.
Maybe I had never been allowed to become independent in the first place.
I had spent years blaming myself for being weak. I rarely stood up for myself, because over time, I didn’t think it was worth the fight that would ensue. I eventually stopped correcting people when they gave Arabella credit for my work. But how was I supposed to develop confidence when everyone around me benefited from me having none? The paper's conclusion sat on the screen, the treatment for someone who was still affected by familial alpha commands.
Subjects displaying prolonged dependency on family authority often experience significant difficulty with autonomy against dominant relatives. Intervention typically requires removal from the controlling environment.
Removal.I laughed bitterly and shut my laptop. If leaving had been easy, I would have done it years ago. I’d never even had control of my own bank account, much less my salary. I didn’t even know how much money I had in there. I’d had to ask for everything, practically begging for even a phone - which I still didn’t have since the grounding punishment. How was I supposed to get away from my family when I had absolutely no means?
