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It’s pleasant. Rich and soft and feminine, like velvet and lace and beautiful pastels bending into something proprietary.

Something mine.

In another life I’d relish in finding this hidden part of me. A part my father’s kept stolen for years like it’s something for him to own and not a piece of my very soul.

Another moment ripped from me. Another piece of joy Father’s snatched away with his cruel, greedy hands.

As much as I wish it were otherwise, my scent simply doesn’t matter. Not now.

Only Caelan matters.

I have to move. I have to get to him and help him somehow.

With a pathetic whimper I start to move, dragging myself across the floor, inch by desperate, miserable inch. Each movement hurts. Each breath feels like inhaling broken glass.

My vision blurs and doubles before snapping back into focus. Waves of pain thrum through my skull.

Concussion. I probably have a concussion.

I push the thought away, dismissing it. It doesn’t matter.

I finally make it to the bathroom when I hear voices coming from down the hall.

Not just any voices. Male voices. They’re deep. Angry. Their feet pound down the hall, their steps quick. Urgent.

I freeze. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure it will explode any second.

“—telling you, Gav. Dax said he heard the entire thing.” The voice sounds furious. “Varenthrall thanked her. Bragged to Caelan about how she played her part beautifully.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean⁠—”

“Not to be a dick, Sir, but it means exactly what it sounds like. She set him up. She lured him here, got him attached somehow, and then made sure he came back when her father could attack.”

What?

No! No, that— that isn’t what happened at all!

The footsteps grow closer until they’re right outside my room. I’m frozen, fear making it impossible to move.

“I admit that Caelan’s actions were out of character, but I can’t believe he’d fall for some random Omega’s bullshit.”

This voice is deeper, like honey over gravel. Strong and authoritative.

“He’s the most level-headed out of all of you. Even Ford can’t keep calm in a crisis like Caelan.”

“Yeah, well, here we are. And we have proof. That Omega set him up. She clearly played some Damsel in distress role he couldn’t see through.”

I recoil.

Proof. Set him up. Damsel in distress.

Each word stabs into my heart, wrong and twisted and untrue. I want to scream at the voices. Tell them it didn’t happen like that. That I’d never do anything to Caelan on purpose.

I’d never hurt him. I tried to save him.

I open my mouth, but only a weak, thready moan comes out.

“Dax wants answers. You all want answers, I get it, Silas.” The second voice—Gav?— replies. “So we find her, secure her, and bring her back to HQ. If we find out before then that she’s working with Varenthrall⁠—”