Dr.
Jameson looked forlorn as he walked through the large hospital atrium.
“Contamination protocols, everyone! Don’t touch your clothes or your orifices. Or each other.” He looked at Owen and paused.
Owen looked back undaunted; he was certain that he beat the cloud of gas inside.
His skin could take burning due to the time he has to fight outside the domes.
Cait was like a canary in a coal mine, the weakest of them, and she was still singing.
Dr.
Jameson continued, “We are dealing with an aerosolized poison and pheromonal cocktail, which means it has the ability to cling to surfaces and clothing. Please take a bar of neutralizer soap from the pile and shower in the appropriate locker room. Those who need assistance, please raise your hands,” he gave a speech.
The useless Beta manager was still nowhere to be found.
He looked at the soap, worried that it’d harm them.
Owen looked down at Cait.
“I think we are safe, but I will take you to shower.” Cait was shaking like a leaf.
The elevator door opened.
“I saw him die,” Cait murmured as tears ran.
It was not like feelings vanished when he hurt her.
Your first love was not something you could let go easily.
Before finding out who he really was, she would have been able to forgive him eventually for dumping her.
“He deserved it.” Owen retorted, “He just killed at least fifty other people. Not counting anyone who had their windows open or happened to be in the surrounding area.”
“Please don’t hate me for crying. I don’t know why I am crying?” Cait said.
“Hey, hey…” he said, trying to soothe her.
“I don’t,” Owen said as he caught her hands as she went to wipe her eyes.
“You can’t touch or wipe at your eyes until we’re sure you’re clean,” he said, his brows furrowing.
Cait sobbed; she hated dropping her guard like this.
But it was too much.
“This is my fault.”
“No. It’s his. Don’t cry.” Owen felt the discomfort building.
” Listen, you are scared.
You saw people you know and don’t know die, Cait.” he paused.
“But none of it happened because of you.”
“T-thank you,” Cait said as she took in a shaky breath.
Even lying in her hospital bed, she was able to rationalize being too scared to be by someone’s side.
It only made the breakup worse when he pulled this media stunt.
It made her feel worthless.
Albert watched Owen calm his daughter from afar.
Kieran elbowed him in the ribs.
He jumped.
“What?” he hissed.
“He got her out of there without a second thought for me. Can you at least see how he is with her?” Kieran asked.
“I thought you would be hurt by all this?” Albert probed.
Kieran had run away from home with the bugger.
“How many times do I have to tell you that it is not romantic between us? We are compatible friends. It is like you and the Alpha that exchanged with you.” Kieran replied.
“Then why did you leave home?” Albert said and put his hands on his hips.
“Because you were setting me up with Ryder, and he was physical with me. I did not want that, regardless of compatibility; I get to choose, not you.” Kieran whispered curtly.
Albert sputtered, but he started receiving odd looks from the people around them.
He could only hold his tongue.
Luckily, the tension was redirected a moment later.
A beta in a suit got off the terrestrial elevator.
“Finally,” Dr.
Jameson said, clicking his tongue.
Dr.
Paulson had shown up to finally direct the Betas, who had issues taking orders from anyone outside of their caste.
He had a smug look on his face.
Had he really shown up late to wag his dick around again, as he did at the inter-departmental meetings?
“Finally?” Dr.
Paulson spat back and looked at Dr.
Jameson with discourtesy.
“Why are you all standing around?” he asked.
He caught his breath.
He was under his secretary minutes ago.
“For you to direct the Beta populace as their representative.” Dr.
Jameson retorted.
“And why is that? Is it because you think you are all better than them? The showers are labelled; just point them to the faculty dressing room with the ‘Beta’ sign.” Dr.
Paulson retorted as if Dr.Jameson was stupid and wasting time.
“The supplies for their skins are different. They are on the trolley cart there. You need to explain the safety measures and monitor for reactions. The buffer foam can only be used sparingly.” Dr.
Jameson responded and gestured exasperatedly at the supplies.
The fluorescent lights of the ABO hospital corridor buzzed like trapped insects, casting sterile shadows on Director Paulson’s grim face.
He was a Beta bureaucrat who managed the hospital and did not care much for the AO-only floor and the fact that only AO staff were allowed to work there.
They worked on the Beta floors, but the AO wings were designated for them only.
It was the law.
“Contamination protocols, everyone go wash up. I do not care what station you come from. Everybody in!” he barked, shoving Albert Rose toward the omega showers with surprising force.
“Watch your hand.” Albert spat.
He could have poison on his jacket.
Dr.
Jameson moved with clinical efficiency, stripping off his lab coat and tossing it aside.
“Everyone, now. Clothing carries traces. Scrubs are what we can provide at the moment. Place your clothing in the bag provided for decontamination or disposal if not possible,” he said as he looked at the beta director.
“Proceed to the doors on the left.” Dr.
Jameson’s cedarwood scent sharpened with urgency as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing lean muscle beneath.
Kieran followed, his smoke-gray hair already dampening in the humid air as he vanished behind the frosted glass door marked AO.
“I will take her with me,” Owen shouted to Kieran.
Kieran responded with a nod.
It would be less awkward that way.
The only Alphas around were Owen and some of his father’s men and one stranger.
She was safe.
“I’m just going to shift you while I carry our stuff,” he said.
Owen’s hand clamped possessively around Cait’s body, carrying her toward the adjoining Alpha decon chamber.
His honey lemon pheromones spiked, protective and territorial.
“You okay to stand for a bit?” Owen asked.
“Yeah,” Cait said, taking a shaky breath.
She couldn’t get over how calm everyone else was.
The surface was more dangerous than the tunnel.
The gas never reached down there because of the protective measures up here.
She was able to let go of some of her own past grievances.
But new ones took their place.
“Hold on,” he murmured, already shrugging out of his charcoal suit jacket.
Cait’s gaze flickered past him, catching a glimpse through the omega shower’s steam.
Male bodies moved under the spray: wide hips, softer curves at the waist, skin glowing like polished pearl under the harsh lights.
‘That is different.
Very, very different, ‘androgynous, ‘ she realized.
She had not been raised among her people.
‘Why do they look different?’ she asked herself.
Henry’s beta form had been all hard angles; Owen was primal power coiled in human skin.
But these omegas… they held this fluid, genderless grace to them.
She felt unthreatened by their presence.
It was clear some of them worked to create muscle mass.
Perhaps it was an instinctual feeling?
“Eyes forward, Cait,” Owen grinned, blocking her view as he kicked off his trousers.
His naked form was a study in controlled violence and corded muscle.
Cait tore her gaze away, fingers trembling as she peeled off her own clothes.
The air prickled against her skin, thick with disinfectant and the salt-sour tang of people scrubbing nearby.
That was new.
The scent was stronger.
It pricked at her nostrils.
“That’s not quite right,” she muttered.
Inside the Alpha shower stall, Owen crowded her against the cold tile.
Water sluiced over them both, plastering his dark hair to his forehead.
“What did you see?” he asked, voice low and rough.
His palm slid possessively down her spine.
“Settle down, Casanova,” Cait laughed softly at the ticklish sensation.
“I think I saw my dad or another omega naked,” she whispered.
“They don’t look like the men I have seen,” Cait admitted.
Owen hummed, “You did not grow up with your people. It’s natural to be curious. Do you have questions?”
Cait shook her head and shivered, not from fear, but from the electric hum between them.
“They looked…” she whispered.
“Like sculptures waiting for the last chisel strikes.”
“It’s more like more strikes of the chisel.” Owen’s ice-blue eyes darkened.
“Male omegas aren’t just one gender,” he said, thumb tracing the curve of her hip.
Cait tried to control her facial features, but she failed.
Owen laughed.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“They’re built for, well, you will learn…” His words cut off as steam thickened, carrying the layered scents of cedarwood, jasmine, various spices, and the familiar scent of lily of the valley from the adjacent Omega showers.
“Your family will explain it.” he blushed.
“Oh?” Cait said, her eyebrows shooting up.
Owen laughed awkwardly and pressed the temperature panel on the showers.
He did not really know much about the male mechanics of being an Omegan as an Alpha.
Or the female stuff other than the basics.
It was best for Kieran, Michael, or Albert to explain.
She continuously caught him off guard with her composed demeanor and sharp intellect.
Was it an inherent trait, or forged in trauma?
Listening to her earlier was eye-opening.
She skillfully transformed the fabricated accusations against her into a grand promotional event for pro-royal and ABO relations.
“I thought you’d be teaching me biology,” Cait said and bit her lip.
She poked him in the stomach.
Owen grinned like a fool at her.
“Did not know it was going to be so complex,” she whispered.
“Let’s get these off of you. Close your eyes and hold your breath.” Owen ordered her.
She followed his words; he held his breath and pulled off her clothes.
“Keep holding it,” he cooed.
He quickly bagged the clothes.
They could burn them for all he cared; he’d buy her more.
“Okay, good,” he said.
She caught her breath.
“You are changing the subject, aren’t you?” Cait teased him.
“It can’t be more than what you said, right?”
‘Smart, she might piece it all together with the subtle comments I have made.’ Owen thought.
The familiar fragrant notes of jasmine wafted through the air, a subtle warning from Albert, a signal to keep his silence.
“No. I think Albert made plans for your education. I don’t want to piss your dad off any more than I already do. He has been coordinating things for your return to the castle.” Owen said.
“Let’s wash you up,” he said.
He pulled her under the spray.
“Hey, hold up. My hair.” The water soaked her carefully plaited hair.
“I know. There’s a reason why I left it. Just trust me, Cait.” Owen said.
Kieran had escaped a blast before.
They entertained each other with stories about close calls and lives in their respective Traverses.
Owen lathered the soap; it was designed to eliminate pheromonal traces and grease for JL and other gas bombs.
The traces of her scent made things difficult, so he’d neutralize any particles from the top down.
Her scent in the bomb made him realize the message beyond the attack.
If he had picked up on it, Albert and Kieran had connected the dots.
Someone with access to a lot of her pheromones made that bomb.
That person would have to be her ‘adoptive’ father.
Owen noticed Cait’s nostrils expanding; she had the funniest look on her face.
She sneezed.
“Is he hurt?”
“No, just sending a little message. You will learn that too. Pheromones can be used to send an emotional intent.” Owen undid the plait gently and soaped her hair.
Albert’s sharp, pointed pheromones danced in the atmosphere with masterful control.
Kieran was able to as well.
His control was like hers.
Unhoned, he could at least leech his own in powerful bursts.
This was a technique she would master in time, perhaps enabling her to disarm even the most zealous Purifier with the allure of her scent.
Henry had already shown that her pheromones could sway Betas, hinting at the secrets of who and what she truly was.
Beyond the partition, Kieran stood frozen beneath the cascading water, his gaze locked onto Albert Rose.
The silver strands of his hair clung to his skull, slicked back, while his aristocratic posture betrayed an undercurrent of tension.
Water droplets glistened on Kieran’s collarbones as he observed his father furiously scrubbing at his skin, as if attempting to erase a haunting memory etched within.
He smelled it too.
The scent of Cait, but sheer terror pheromones.
‘How had Caleb treated her to be able to withdraw pheromones laced with such a terrifying command of ‘STOP!’ associated with them?
Had she suffered?’ Kieran turned, his eyes watering with emotion as he sobbed silently while he scrubbed.
He’d say soap got in his eyes.
Dr.
Jameson moved with practiced silence beside them, presenting Albert with a small vial of neutralizing gel.
“Make sure to scrub the nail beds and nostril openings, Lord Rose,” the doctor murmured, his voice low and steady.
“Purifier toxins can cling stubbornly.”
Albert’s knuckles turned pale as he gripped the tube with urgency.
He caught himself and held out his hand.
His hand quivered.
“Thank you,” he said.
This man was Cait’s doctor; his timely diagnosis and quick thinking to check his daughter’s previous blood work was crucial to saving her life.
Thorne was right to ‘promote’ this man.
He was loyal.
Cait shivered involuntarily as Owen’s soapy fingers glided across the delicate skin beneath her navel.
His touch sparked an electric response within her, a ghostly reminder of their prior mating.
“Stay focused,” he commanded, yet even he struggled to maintain his composure as her sweet Gardenia scent intensified in the air.
“I can’t believe he did this. He tried to kill me. He called me a whore.” Cait started hyperventilating.
He felt the intense anxiety in her; it was affecting him.
Before he could even scent it in the air.
“Breathe. He seemed ‘brainwashed’, unlike what your father and brother described. I could not reach him to offer him a higher ‘silencing’ fee. You did nothing wrong.” Owen spoke softly as he tried to hug her as softly as possible.
Her body vibrated.
“Haah, haah,” she breathed, her heart racing.
She should not be feeling like this, after all those people died.
She was so overwhelmed she needed to numb the pain.
“Owen.” Her body hurt; it ached, but her body seemed to want to reach out and take what was in front of her.
Her hands traveled down the hard planes of his chest.
“Don’t even think about it in here. There are many Alphas here. They’ll swarm to join us.” Owen whispered.
His throat bobbed as he dry-swallowed.
He was told to avoid sex, but she engaged.
Cait watched water cascade over the hard planes of his chest, down to where his cock thickened against his thigh.
He was a wall of a man, tall and all muscle.
The sheer size of him, the prominent knot base, biology screaming ‘predator’.
Yet when his calloused palm cradled her jaw, the gesture held terrifying gentleness.
“It’s not like I don’t appreciate the flattery of your gaze, but I am up here,” Owen said, with almost a laugh, until a cry came out of the shower chamber.
A sharp cry sliced through the steam.
In the Omega chamber, Albert staggered, clutching his forearm where angry red welts bloomed.
“Neutralizer burn; it caught something. It is better for it to burn than absorb.” Dr.
Jameson snapped, yanking him back under the water.
Kieran’s grey eyes flickered in Cait’s direction; he smelled his father’s silent warning.
Owen’s fingers trembled slightly as he lathered neutralizer soap over Cait’s shoulders.
The sterile scent of neutralizer couldn’t mask the raw musk of her arousal.
Her small hand slid down his abdomen, fingers wrapping around his thick length.
“Not in here.” He hissed quietly and bashfully.
His hips jerked uncontrollably as she began stroking him.
Her slow and deliberate pumps that echoed the frantic rhythm of her own pulse.
Water sluiced between them, blurring the hard lines of his body as she worked him.
His breath came in ragged gasps, forehead pressed against the cool tile beside her ear.
“C-Cait,” he choked out, but her name dissolved into a guttural groan as he came, hot stripes painting her thigh before the water washed it away.
Cait swayed with a triumphant grin, exhaustion hitting her like a physical blow.
Owen caught her instantly, one arm banding around her waist, the other cupping the back of her head.
“Big day,” he murmured, voice rough.
His thumb brushed a stray droplet from her cheekbone.
Cait leaned into him, the tremor in her limbs betraying the adrenaline crash.
The visual hallucinations spun dizzily in front of her from withdrawal.
“Not much free entertainment in the Traverse, or fun ways to blow off steam,” she whispered against his collarbone, a brittle edge to her voice.
“This… helped. When things got bad. It is free.” His jaw tightened.
Coping mechanism.
Survival reflex.
The thought twisted something sharp in his chest.
Guilt flashed in Owen’s ice-blue eyes.
He softly kissed her.
He pulled back slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
His gaze locked onto hers, dark, possessive, satisfied.
“Later, when you are healthier, I will entertain you as much as you want. The things I will do to you. But you have to focus on getting better,” he breathed against her ear, the promise thick and dangerous.
He snatched towels from the rack, wrapping one roughly around her trembling form before securing his own.