I step into the foyer of our pack house, the familiar scents of home washing over me. The place feels oddly quiet, almost too still. Leonâs absence weighs on me, his mysterious âpersonal businessâ nagging at the back of my mind.
I canât shake the feeling that somethingâs off.
Dropping my bags by the door, I take a moment to straighten my suit. Itâs wrinkled from the flight, but itâs one of my favorites. A deep plum I had custom made in Italy. I run a hand through my dark hair, trying to tame it into some semblance of order.
The house feels occupied, but thereâs no sign of life. Itâs not unusual for everyone to be off doing their own thing, but it strikes me how much we sometimes feel like roommates rather than a pack. Even though three of us work together, weâre lacking that center that pulls us all together.
Iâm about to call out when Rhys appears, a warm smile lighting up his face. He pulls me into a tight hug, his familiar scent enveloping me.
âWelcome home,â he says, his voice warm and genuine. âYouâre earlier than we expected.â
I return the hug, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders. âThanks, Rhys. Yeah, the flight arrived sooner than I thought it would.â
Rhys pulls back, his brow furrowing slightly as he glances behind me. âWhereâs Leon?â
The question catches me off guard. Iâd assumed Leon would have given his mate more details about his plans. Awkwardness settles over me as I realize Iâm caught in the middle of something I donât fully understand.
âIâm not really sure,â I say, trying to keep my voice casual. âHe said he had some personal business to take care of before he came back. Probably planning a surprise or something for your upcoming birthday.â
Rhysâs expression softens, a small smile tugging at his lips. âAh. I see. Well, I wonât pry then.â He gestures toward the kitchen. âMace went out to the store to get some ingredients for your homecoming dinner. He should be home soon. Troyâs holed up in his studio, as usual.â
I nod, grateful for the change of subject. âHow did the heat go?â I ask, unable to contain my curiosity about the omega weâve all been hearing about.
Rhysâs green eyes light up. âIt went great,â he says, clearly excited. âHow much did Leon tell you?â
I shrug, trying to recall the sparse details Leon had shared. âNot much, just that itâs an omega you hooked up with from that Temporary Bonds place youâve been discussing.â
Rhysâs smile widens. âLet me pour you a glass of wine, and we can discuss things.â
Curiosity piqued, I follow him into the kitchen. Rhys moves with practiced ease, pulling out a bottle of red and two glasses. I settle onto one of the barstools at the island, watching as he pours.
âSo,â Rhys says, sliding a glass toward me. âThereâs something you should know about Ophelia.â
I take a sip of wine, savoring the rich flavor. âOh?â
Rhys takes a deep, nervous breath. âSheâs our scent match.â
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I set my glass down carefully, staring at Rhys. âSeriously? How do you know?â
Rhysâs smile turns soft, almost dreamy. âItâs the kind of thing you just know,â he says. âBut you donât have to take my word for it. Come on, Iâll show you.â
Curious and a little apprehensive, I follow Rhys upstairs to the nesting room thatâs been sitting completely untouched since we moved in. As he pushes open the door, a wave of scent hits me like a freight train. As a beta, Iâm not usually as profoundly impacted by omega scents as alphas are.
But this⦠this is different.
The scent of jasmine and ocean air overloads my senses, intoxicating and all-consuming. Itâs like nothing Iâve ever experienced before.
âHoly shit,â I mutter, gripping the doorframe for support.
Rhys gives me a knowing look from where heâs leaning against the opposite side of the door. âThe others and I felt the same way.â
I take a few steps into the room, letting the scent wash over me. Itâs everywhereâin the sheets, the pillows, the very air itself. I canât imagine how intense it must have been for the alphas if this is how it affects me.
âHow did she react when you met?â I ask, turning back to Rhys.
His expression grows more serious. âI donât think she knows yet.â
Confusion creases my brow. âHow is that possible? Even after her heat?â
Rhys sighs, running a hand through his auburn hair. âThe experience of matching isnât always as strong for omegas as it is for alphas,â he explains. âBut Opheliaâs situation is⦠complicated.â
I lean against the wall, sensing thereâs more to this story. âComplicated how?â
âFor one, sheâs been on heat suppressants for years,â Rhys says. âThat can result in a delayed reaction. But more importantly, sheâs marked. Partially.â
The words donât make sense at first. âPartially marked? Does that meanâ¦?â
Rhysâs expression darkens. âIt means an alpha started the mating process but didnât finish it. Left her with an incomplete bond. They can cause immense suffering.â
The implications of that hit me hard. âIs that why she went to Temporary Bonds?â
Rhys nods. âShe was looking for a pack to temporarily help her through her heats. Theyâre⦠painful for her. She has bond sickness.â
I let out a low whistle and rake my hand through my hair. âSo you think thatâs making it harder for her to realize weâre her match?â
âThat, and the fact that she doesnât trust alphas,â Rhys says. âSheâs in a fragile state. I didnât want to tell her before she was ready. It was hard enough trying to convince her to come back for another heat.â
A sudden panic grips me at the thought of this omegaâour matchânot coming back. The intensity of the feeling surprises me. If Iâm this affected without even meeting her, the others must be going out of their minds.
âDoes Leon know?â I ask, thinking back to his strange behavior.
Rhys nods. âHe knows about the scent match. I wanted to wait and explain the other parts of her condition until we had a chance to talk in person.â
I can see the worry in Rhysâs eyes, the tension in his shoulders. I step forward, placing a hand on his arm. âHey, you donât have anything to worry about,â I say, trying to sound reassuring. âI know Leon as well as you do. He wouldnât let something like this stand in the way of our match.â
Rhys smiles, some of the tension easing from his face. âYouâre right, of course. I know that. Iâm just worried since Leon has been hesitant about the whole idea of taking an omega.â
I squeeze his arm gently. âI know Leon. Whatever it is, heâll get it together for the good of the pack.â
Rhys nods, looking more relaxed. âThanks, Maddox. I donât know what weâd do without you.â
âProbably succumb to your alpha hormones and kill each other,â I tease. âOr at least never be able to find the remote again.â
Rhys laughs. âProbably not far from the truth.â
As we head back downstairs, I canât help but think about Leonâs mysterious disappearance. I hope Iâm right about him getting it together. Because if this omega really is our match, we canât afford to lose her.
Back in the kitchen, Rhys pours us each another glass of wine. I swirl the rich red liquid in the glass, contemplating the complexity of our current situation.
âSo,â I say, taking a sip, âtell me more about Ophelia. Whatâs she like?â
Rhysâs face lights up, a soft smile playing at his lips. âSheâs⦠incredible,â he says. âStrong, but vulnerable. Guarded, but sweet and playful when she lets herself be. And so beautiful, Maddox. You wouldnât believe how beautiful she is.â
I canât help but smile at his enthusiasm. Iâve never seen Rhys like this. Then again, heâs been around more omegas than probably any other alpha out there, considering his job. But even though they fawn over him, he always remains professional.
Or maybe he really is that oblivious.
âSounds like youâre smitten,â I tease.
He chuckles. âWe all are, I think. Even Troy, though heâd never admit it.â
That catches my attention. Troyâs always been the most resistant to the idea of bringing an omega into the pack aside from Leon. He was fine with the idea of a temporary arrangementâeager, evenâbut long term? Nope.
âReally? Troy too?â
Rhys nods. âYou should have seen him. He was so gentle with her, so attentive. It was like seeing a whole different side of him.â
I whistle low. âIâd pay to see that.â
We share a laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating. As it fades, I find myself growing more curious about this omega whoâs managed to captivate my packmates so thoroughly.
âWhat does she do for a living?â I ask, realizing I know next to nothing about her life outside of her heat.
Rhysâs smile falters slightly. âShe said she works in customer service, but⦠I donât think thatâs the whole truth.â
I raise an eyebrow. âOh?â
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. âI think thereâs a lot sheâs not telling us. About her past, about her work. But I didnât want to push. Sheâs been through so much already.â
I nod, understanding his caution. An omega with an incomplete bond, working a job sheâs not comfortable discussing⦠it paints a concerning picture. âDo you think sheâs in some kind of trouble?â
Rhys shakes his head. âI donât think so. Not immediate danger, at least. But I worry about her. The bond sickness, the suppressants sheâs been taking⦠itâs not a sustainable situation.â
A protective instinct I didnât know I possessed flares to life. âWeâll help her,â I say, surprising myself with the vehemence in my voice. âWhatever she needs.â
âIâm glad you feel that way,â Rhys murmurs. âI was hoping⦠well, I was hoping you might be able to talk to her.â
I blink, surprised. âMe? Why?â
âYouâre a beta,â Rhys explains. âLess threatening than an alphaâand sheâs had plenty of reason not to trust our kindâbut still equally pack. And you have a way with people, Maddox. You might be able to get through to her in a way we canât.â
I consider his words, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness at the prospect of meeting Ophelia. âIâll do my best,â I promise.
Rhys smiles, relief clear in his softening expression. âThank you. I think it could make a real difference.â
We lapse into comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I find myself wondering about Ophelia, trying to picture her based on Rhysâs description and the intoxicating scent that still lingers in my nostrils.
The sound of the front door opening breaks through our reverie. Heavy footsteps approach the kitchen, and Mace appears, his arms laden with grocery bags.
âMaddox!â he booms, his face splitting into a wide grin. âWelcome home, kid!â
I stand, helping him with the bags. âThanks, big guy. Need a hand with dinner?â
Mace nods gratefully. âAlways. Hope youâre hungry. Iâm making my famous lasagna.â
As we start unpacking groceries, falling into an easy rhythm, I canât help but notice the way Mace keeps glancing toward the nesting room upstairs. Thereâs a softness in his eyes Iâve never seen before, a tenderness that speaks volumes about how deeply Ophelia has affected him.
All of them.
As we continue preparing dinner, the conversation flows easily. We catch up on what Iâve missed while away, the latest pack gossip and news. But underneath it all, thereâs an undercurrent of excitement.
And nervousness.
The possibility of Ophelia returning, of our pack finally being complete, hangs in the air like a promise.
Eventually, Troy emerges from his studio, lured by the smell of Maceâs cooking. He greets me with a nod and a fist bump, his usual taciturn self. But thereâs something different about him, too.
As we all gather around the table, passing dishes and pouring wine, Iâm struck by how right it feels.
How much like a family.
The only thing missing is Leon and Ophelia.