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chapter
nine
I’m doomed. But at least Remi has a pile of chocolate-chip cookies waiting for me.
The fresh-baked deliciousness blends perfectly with her own omega scent—a smooth, almost-floral caramel. The two sugary aromas feel just right in her small apartment, with its cheerful blush walls and mason jars full of fake flowers.
She watches me shove a cookie in my mouth and makes no comment when crumbs stick to the tear tracks lining my face.
“This is disgusting,” I sob, wiping at my snotty nose while I cram more cookies into my gullet. “I hate myself.”
Rems pats my knee. Her quiet, tiny omega purr starts up. It’s a sound I’ve only ever heard from her; one I’m not even sure I’m capable of making. Since, you know, I’m a biological failure and all.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers for the tenth time, tucking herself close to my side, letting the soft vibrations of her body sink into mine. “Want my favorite blanket?”
From one omega to another, that’s better than a friendship bracelet. I sniffle-snort. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I came crashing in here like this. I…”
Well, I actually still don’t know what happened.
“Go through it again,” Remi urges, flipping her dark curls off her shoulders and brushing a few cookie crumbs from her tank top. “You walked into the room and you scented them right away?”
I nod, sniffing my blouse again. It’s no use, though—there is no trace of any of them on my clothes. Which means the office had scent-neutralizers in the air. Which should have made it impossible for me to smell any of those alphas the way I did.
A fact that didn’t occur to me until I was already ten miles away from the facility and had breathed enough fresh air from my open car window to restart the logical part of my brain.
“Yeah,” I murmur, picking at the hem of my skirt. “I could smell each one really clearly, especially Ro—Mr. Ash.”
I keep calling him Ronan in my head. As if I have any right to.
“Hmm.” Remi pats my arm softly, handing over another cookie. “Maybe their scent-blockers weren’t working. Could you smell any of the other alphas working in the building?”
“There weren’t any others that I saw,” I say around the bite of melty chocolate goodness.
Dang. Remi really can bake. I need to have her teach me. At the rate I’m going, the ability to eat will be the only thing I have left by the time my heat rolls around.
She frowns, her doll-like features pinching. “Yeah, but aren’t, like, all the guys who work there alphas? You should have at least gotten a few traces of other employees, even if they were all in the other building at the time. Unless the neutralizer they use is the premium, super-expensive kind. But, then…”
Then I shouldn’t have been able to scent any of them at all.
A chill rolls down my back, arching it. “Is there any way this could be related to my heat issues?”
She rolls her head back and forth in a doubtful gesture. “You’re not in heat yet. You still have a few suppressants left, and you took your dose this morning. But even if you didn’t, I’ve never heard of an omega in heat being resistant to scent-neutralization. Other than scent-sensitive packs.”
Scent-sensitive?
She’s told me about those packs before—the ones drawn together by some crazy combination of fate and biology. It’s Remi’s dream to be in one of those weird “fated mate” situations. But it all just sounds insane to me.
I mean, c’mon. An entire group of people—alphas and an omega—that all magically imprint on each other’s scents?
And then… boom?
Happily ever after?
Remi stares. And stares. Until her insight finally sinks in.
“No.” I don’t realize I’m saying the word out loud until I can’t stop. “No, no, no. No. No. No, no.”
She laughs. “Were they old or ugly or something? I thought you said one of them was Declan Howard!”
