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Thorne steps forward, gesturing for the medical officer to assist. "This way, omega."

Aria's shoulders slump slightly, the first sign of surrender she's shown since arrival. The sight brings no satisfaction, only a hollow discomfort I refuse to acknowledge. As they lead her toward the exit, she glances back once, those green eyes fixing on me with a complexity of emotion—fear, anger, and something else I can't quite identify.

Then she's gone, leaving only her scent lingering in the chamber like an accusation.

"Sir," Thorne remains behind, his expression carefully neutral. "The omega's heat progresses rapidly. Medical assessment suggests full manifestation within twelve hours, possibly sooner. Standard suppressants may prove inadequate given the acceleration pattern."

"Increase dosage as needed," I instruct, returning to the territorial maps as though the omega's fate holds no particular interest. "Maintain security protocols on the containment chamber. Pre-heat omegas have been known to attempt additional escapes despite symptoms."

"Yes, Commander." Thorne hesitates, his tail swaying in the pattern that indicates unspoken thoughts. "There's also the matter of her knowledge of mountain paths. Her escape route utilized trails not marked on our standard maps. Potential intelligence value before facility transfer?"

An excellent point, though I'm reluctant to admit it. Her knowledge of hidden paths, dangerous terrain, and patrol vulnerabilities could prove tactically significant—especially with dragon forces potentially testing boundaries.

"Schedule interrogation after her cycle completes. Full cognitive function will provide more reliable information."

When Thorne finally departs, I allow my tail to lash freely, releasing the irritation I've suppressed throughout the confrontation. Something about Aria Copenhagen disrupts my carefully maintained control. Her disgust at my appearance shouldn't matter—I've seen the same reaction countless times from humans. Her preference for dragons over felines shouldn't surprise me—her settlement has always leaned that direction despite being in contested territory.

Yet her dismissive gesture and words—"meant for them, not this"—echo in my mind with unwarranted persistence.

I force my attention back to territorial maps, reviewing patrol schedules and guard rotations with deliberate focus. The omega is merely one more administrative task to manage, one more settlement human whose biology has complicated an already delicate territorial transition. Her processing will follow standard protocol, her facility transfer will proceed without incident, and Shadowthorn Outpost will continue its border enforcement without disruption.

If only her scent would stop lingering in my awareness, hours after our confrontation.

---

Night falls over Shadowthorn Outpost, bringing the cooler temperatures that allow feline night vision its greatest advantage. I stand at the observation platform extending from my private quarters, surveying the darkened mountain passes with eyes designed for nocturnal hunting.

Sleep eludes me, though I rarely require more than four hours even under normal circumstances. My mind circles back to the omega in containment chamber three, wondering if the suppressants are managing her symptoms effectively, if her full heat has manifested yet, if she still clings to dragon fantasies despite evidence of their brutal reality.

Lieutenant Thorne's evening report sits on my desk, updated patrol schedules and supply inventories requiring my review before morning. But beneath those routine documents lies the omega processing form, facility transfer authorization awaiting my signature. Standard procedure. The logical choice for everyone involved.

So why does my hand hesitate each time I reach for the authorization stamp?

A sharp knock interrupts my thoughts. The pattern—two quick, one slow—identifies the night watch commander requesting urgent attention.

"Enter," I call, turning from the observation platform.

The officer appears, saluting crisply despite the late hour. "Scout report, Commander. Priority alpha."

I take the sealed communication, breaking the security seal with one extended claw. The contents confirm what I've suspected since the territorial reassignment came through—dragon forces testing the newly established boundaries, probing for weaknesses in our patrol coverage.

"Three separate incursions along the western approach," I read aloud, tail going perfectly still with focused attention. "Dragon scouts observed within five miles of outer perimeter."

"Yes, sir. Significantly closer than they should be, given the new boundary lines."

The implications unfold with crystal clarity. The dragons aren't simply testing borders—they're deliberately provoking response, perhaps hoping to create incidents that might justify challenging the Council's reassignment decision. The timing seems suspiciously aligned with Aria's capture, though the connection remains unclear.

"Double the western approach patrols," I order. "Rotating patterns, variable timing. I want our presence visible but unpredictable."

"Sir." The officer hesitates. "There's one additional detail. The scout who observed the closest incursion reported unusual interest in omega scent trails. They appeared to be specifically tracking paths with omega pheromone signatures."

My fur bristles involuntarily along my spine. "Are you suggesting they were tracking our captured omega?"

"Uncertain, sir. But the timing and focus suggest a possible connection."

I dismiss the officer with additional patrol instructions, turning back to the observation platform with renewed intensity. Far below, I can just make out the edges of BlackridgeSettlement, its cooking fires long extinguished for the night. Beyond, the mountain passes Aria attempted to navigate stretch toward dragon territory like dark serpents against the moonlit landscape.

Why would dragons show specific interest in one settlement omega? Unless her escape wasn't entirely self-motivated? The possibility of resistance connections or dragon coordination seems far-fetched for a newly presented omega, yet the coincidental timing nags at me.