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As the head alpha, John is first. He smells like coffee and soap. He's lean and wiry, with the slightly hollow look of someone who runs too many miles for fun. Handsome in a technical sense. Good jaw, decent lips, but there's a thinning situation happening on top that he's managing with a comb-over that is not doing him any favors. I want to tell him, gently of course, that there is nothing wrong with cutting it short and committing. That confidence is more attractive than coverage. But we've known each other for approximately nine seconds, so I keep that to myself.

Seth is blond. Boyish face, easy smile, the kind of handsome that photographs well. His profile listed him as a financial planner. His scent is old books. Not unpleasant, but not great, either. He shakes my hand with both of his, which is either warm or slightly intense, unclear yet.

Brian is the one my eyes want to linger on the longest. Dark hair, dark eyes, ruddy cheeks, a bigger frame that's fit but with a softness to it that I find appealing. When he smiles it reaches his eyes. I lean in a little when he shakes my hand and take in his apricot scent. Unexpected for an alpha, but it’s working for him.

"Cammie," John says, "you look great."

“Thanks. And you all look exactly like your profile photos.” I slide into the booth. “Congratulations.”

Seth laughs. Brian smiles. John signals for a server.

Okay, I think. Let's see what we've got.

Turns out, what we’ve got is pleasant. No red flags. No well hello there flags, either. My panties are entirely unbothered.

Boo.

I order a martini, mostly to have something to do with my hands during conversations that don’t quite catch fire. John asks about OmegaBox, which is an okay getting-to-know-you question. Not as good as asking about my hobbies, or my favorite trips. Just fine. I give him the version I give to everyone: my best friend owns it, I run the marketing, together we’ve grown it to over ten thousand subscribers across North America.

"That's fascinating," Seth says, and then, and I mean this without exaggeration, spends the next eleven minutes explaining to me the importance of reinvesting business profits into a diversified portfolio.

“Wow,” I murmur, stirring my martini. “I’m more of a buy pretty shoes when the account looks happy investor, but you do you.”

He looks sincerely dumbfounded for exactly one-eighth of a second, then rambles on about making a company thousands last month with this strategy.

“What do you guys do for fun?” I interject when he takes a breath. I aim it at the whole table but pray anyone but Seth will answer.

John mentions running. Again. Seth mentions a finance podcast he co-hosts.

Brian leans in. “I actually like geocaching.”

I mirror his body language. “Like treasure hunting in the city?”

“Well, I guess that’s maybe—”

And that’s it. The moment is lost when John cuts in to share his marathon training schedule. I watch Brian sit back. He doesn't look annoyed, just practiced at it, which tells me something about how this pack operates that I didn't want to know but now it’s in my brain.

I finish my martini in one long sip and set the glass down with a little click. “Well. This has been… pleasant.”

The Albright pack is nice. I want to be clear about that. They are perfectly nice men who are probably very good at their jobs and will make some omega very financially secure and very pleasantly bored for the rest of her life. They're interested in me, I can tell. John keeps making deliberate eye contact, Seth keeps laughing a half-second after everything I say, Brian actually looks like he would have liked to know more about my Saint’s Coffee work. It almost makes me want to give this another twenty minutes.

I don’t. There's no pull, no spark, no moment where I think oh, hey you. My omega is entirely unbothered, which is the real verdict here. You can fake a lot of things, but you cannot fake an interested omega.

When the check comes, they get it, without discussion, which is polite. I set my clutch on the table and smile in the way that I have learned means this is a kind ending.

"I've enjoyed meeting you all," I say, and it's mostly true. "You're great guys."

John starts to say something about dinner next weekend.

"I hope you find your omega," I say warmly, sliding out of the booth. "Truly. You deserve someone who's a great fit. I just don't think that's me."

Their three expressions recalibrate.

"Of course," John says, recovering first. "We appreciate you meeting us."

Brian gives me a small, genuine smile.

I shake hands, say my goodbyes, and walk back through the restaurant and out into the evening air. I get half a block to my car before I pull out my phone.