Prime Alpha, Broken Omega, One Fatal Scent

§01

In the eyes of the world, I was the perfect Omega.

But only I knew my fiancé didn't like me.

To resist our arranged marriage, he ran away from home and met an unremarkable Beta.

My father pointed at my nose and cursed, "You can't even keep an Alpha. What use are you?"

It wasn’t until that Beta abandoned him and disappeared without a trace that my father placed his hopes in me again.

Six years later, the Beta returned and stole him away once more.

But it didn't matter, because I already had a new candidate.

And he was a good boy, a puppy who would walk right into my trap without me even having to lift a finger.

The first time I saw Owen Crestwood was downstairs at Merrick Crawford’s corporate headquarters.

The weather was grim, a thick blanket of gray clouds suffocating me like a giant woolen quilt.

A biting wind whipped through the streets, yet I wore only a thin white linen shirt.

When Merrick approached, I timed it perfectly, linking my arm with his and smiling up at him.

But in his eyes, I saw nothing. Not a ripple. His gaze was as still as a frozen lake.

It made the expression I’d practiced in the mirror for hours feel utterly humiliating.

He subtly disengaged my arm, his eyes darting restlessly toward someone behind me.

My smile vanished. The sight of the two of them, reunited but unable to meet each other's eyes, was absurdly comical.

I glanced over. The Beta looked the same as he had six years ago. It was the man next to him who caught my attention.

Because his gaze was hot, intense, and utterly undisguised, his dark, shining eyes locked on me.

I frowned instinctively. That kind of primal stare had no place in business, and certainly not outside of it.

What an idiot. He didn't even know how to hide his desire in a crowd.

"Grandfather Crawford is looking for you," I said to Merrick, my voice clipped.

Then I got into the car, refusing to waste another expression.

Before the car pulled away, I looked through the window, sizing up the man one last time.

Good-looking, but with a foolishly earnest air about him. If he was trying to negotiate a deal with Merrick, he’d be eaten alive.

Remembering his stare, I rolled up the window and glanced at my own flawless face in the reflection.

Good. The sliver of confidence Merrick had chipped away was now fully restored.

"That's Owen Crestwood, Dashiell Crestwood's younger brother. We met when we were kids," Merrick said, his tone flat.

Ah, so that's who it was.

No wonder he looked so much like that dumb puppy from my childhood.

So it was you.

My little puppy, Owen.

§02

Merrick Crawford and I were practically childhood acquaintances, brought up in the same circles. My father, Warren Kensington, was desperate to curry favor with the Crawford family, and a marriage alliance was the most direct path.

As if by some cosmic joke, our pheromone compatibility was a staggering ninety percent.

A shame he couldn't stand me, and the feeling was mutual.

He was always putting on airs, a performance for an audience that didn't exist.

But at least he had the decency to drive me home.

The moment I stepped out of the car, my father was there to greet us. Seeing Merrick, his stony expression instantly melted into a fawning smile. "Merrick, thank you for bringing Alaric home so late."

Merrick just gave a slight nod, saying nothing.

I rolled my eyes from behind them. It was broad daylight. What "late"?

As Merrick’s car sped away, my father’s sycophantic smile vanished. He walked inside, sank onto the sofa, and said to me with sickening excitement, "I'll visit old Mr. Crawford in a couple of days. See if we can get your engagement finalized again."

The very mention of it turned my already sour mood to ice.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and said, "That Beta is back. Don't waste your energy."

The words had barely left my lips before my father’s face clouded over. The fury in his eyes was so intense it almost made me stagger.

He raised his hand. I braced myself for the familiar sting, but the blow never landed.

I opened my eyes in surprise. He was pointing a trembling finger at my nose, his voice thick with contempt. "You can't even keep an Alpha. What use are you?"

He stood up and stormed out, leaving the empty living room echoing with his words.

"Alaric, don't cry."

My mother, Helena, must have come downstairs at some point. She touched my face, her own eyes filled with a pain that left her speechless.

"I'm not crying," I said, sniffling. I took her trembling hands from my face and held them tightly. "He didn't hit me. Don't worry."

§03

My mood soured, I went out for a drink, calling a group of my usual friends.

I didn't expect to run into Owen Crestwood there. He was looking around, slightly dazed.

Interesting. I hadn't even gone looking for the puppy, and here he was, sniffing me out.

I nudged the friend next to me. "Just drinking is boring," I instigated. "Let's play a game."

"Alright, Ric. What's gotten into you tonight? You name it, we'll play it."

I feigned a moment of thought, my eyes drifting toward Owen. "See that handsome guy over there?" I gestured with my chin. "Go tell him someone in our group wants his number. Guess who he'll pick. Whoever he picks has to drink."

"You sly bastard," my friend laughed. "That's not even a game. You're an Alpha magnet and you know it. Cheating's no fun!"

I just shrugged, a small, noncommittal smile on my lips.

My friend quickly went over to Owen, clapping him on the shoulder and whispering something. Owen turned, his eyes lit up, and he walked straight toward me.

"Your friend said you want my number!"

"Huh? What?" I feigned confusion, glancing at my friend, who gave me a conspiratorial wink before melting back into the crowd.

"Here, add me!" Owen held his phone out, his eyes gleaming with eagerness.

Seeing his desperation, I suddenly lost interest. I shook my head.

"I don't have my phone on me."

"Oh, come on. It's totally normal. Having a crush on me isn't something to be embarrassed about. I won't laugh, I promise. Just add me."

I met his sparkling gaze and said, honestly, "I don't have a crush on you."

"Impossible. Then do you like that Merrick Crawford guy?"

The mention of that arrogant jerk soured my mood instantly. "What's it to you?" I snapped back.

"So, do you like me?"

What?

Did he just selectively ignore what I said?

"Well, I like you," he declared, his voice full of a strange, misplaced confidence. "Actually, you're pretty captivated by me too, aren't you, handsome? I admit it. You've won. I've fallen for you."

I stared at him as if he were an idiot, but he seemed completely oblivious.

After a moment, he adopted an expression that said, *'Don't explain, I get it,'* and took my phone, adding himself as a contact.

§04

When it was time to leave, he offered to drive me home, and I didn't refuse.

He chattered nonstop on the way, but as we got closer to my house, he grew quiet, lost in thought.

Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer. "Have we met before?"

I glanced at him. He scratched his head sheepishly. "Seriously, I'm not just hitting on you. I feel like I've been to this neighborhood before as a kid. And I swear I've seen you somewhere..."

"No," I said, turning my gaze away, my denial swift and absolute.

"Really? Huh. I guess I must be mistaken then."

"We're here." He got out first, opening the door for me and offering a gentlemanly arm.

I placed my hand lightly on his forearm and gave him a smile.

"Thank you."

"Rest well, Kitten," he said, wiggling his phone and giving me a wink. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "Call me if you miss me."

I didn't reply, just walked straight inside.

Upstairs, I looked at his contact info on my phone, then leaned against the window, idly watching his car drive away. The sight of his retreating silhouette filled me with a sick sense of satisfaction.

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