Page 8

"And you?" Felix asks.

"Last week. I deliberately walked past the library during her afternoon break, projecting as much alpha energy as I could without being obvious about it." I smile grimly. "She dropped the book she was holding, had to sit down on the bench for five minutes, and her scent was so strong I could smell her arousal from half a block away."

"Jesus," Theo mutters.

"It gets better. I had our scent compatibility analyzed by a specialist in Chicago," I continue, producing a scientific report. "Belle's biological markers indicate she's not just compatible with pack bonding, but she's specifically compatible with our pack. Our combined pheromone signatures create a harmonic resonance with her omega chemistry that's statistically rare."

"How rare?" Felix asks.

"Less than two percent of the population shows this level of biological compatibility," I reply. "Belle Hartwell isn't just a random omega who might work with us. She's literally our destined mate."

"So you decided to invite her to our ball," Theo says slowly.

"I decided to give her an opportunity to meet us properly, in an environment where she can explore pack dynamics without social pressure," I correct. "The masquerade format provides anonymity and plausible deniability. She can interact with us aspotential partners without having to publicly admit she needs a pack bond."

"And if she doesn't connect with us?" Felix asks.

"She will," I say with alpha certainty. "The biological compatibility is too strong to ignore. But if somehow she doesn't, then she'll find other pack alphas who can properly care for a multi-bonded omega. Either way, she stops trying to force herself into single-alpha relationships that will never satisfy her."

I close the file and look at both my packmates. "Our screening process works because we don't just screen applicants, but we identify people who need what we can provide. Belle needs a pack bond, whether she fully understands that yet or not. And we need an omega who can complete us."

"The other attendees?" Theo asks.

"All specifically chosen based on compatibility analysis and biological markers," I confirm. "Adam Chen will find the visiting beta from the county library system, because they're both looking for intellectual partnership and domestic stability. The three omegas from Riverside will connect with the alpha engineers from the construction project, and they all prefer traditional dynamics. By the time everyone leaves Sunday morning, I expect at least fifteen successful bonds."

"Including ours with Belle," Felix says.

"Especially ours with Belle," I agree. "Three years of hosting these events has taught me to recognize when biology and psychology align perfectly. Belle Hartwell is our omega. She just doesn't know it yet."

The system works perfectly for our purposes. The ornate drop box we installed at the post office three years ago, labeled simply "Masquerade Ball Responses," gives people a way to confirm their attendance without ever connecting it back to us.Mrs. Patterson at the post office thinks it's charming and has never questioned who empties it twice a week.

"Any word from Seraphina about this year's invitation?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Nothing," Theo confirms, his expression darkening. "Mail returned unopened, same as always."

The three of us fall silent. Seraphina Thornfield, the omega who owns the palace and rents it to us for our annual event, hasn't responded to our invitation in three years.

"We should try again," Felix says quietly. "Maybe this year will be different."

"We'll visit her tomorrow afternoon. Together," I decide. "And we're not leaving until she agrees to attend."

My pack nods in agreement, and I feel that familiar satisfaction of having my team aligned and ready.

And if Belle really is our omega which every piece of evidence confirms then she's about to find out exactly what that means.

6

MARCUS

Last night, it was as if the stress of the day kept us from catching up like we used to. None of us felt like watching a game or even hanging out. We all went to our rooms, and this morning by the time I got up, they'd both left for work. I'm about to call them to see if they remember our plans today when, as soon as I walk into the house, I see Felix in front of me, looking like he just walked in too.

"Ciao," Felix says, dropping his keys on the table. "Che giornata." What a day.

"I saw Belle Hartwell at Murphy's Market yesterday," Felix mentions casually as he rolls up his architectural drawings, but there's nothing casual about the way his eyes sharpen. "She looked... stressed. She kept checking her phone like she was expecting bad news."

"She's probably dealing with library board politics," I suggest, though something in Felix's tone makes my alpha instincts prick with interest. "Mrs. Henderson mentioned they're having budget discussions. She also said something about Belle getting a 'very interesting piece of mail' recently, with that look she gets when she knows something juicy."

"Are you sure Mrs. Henderson isn't Lady Inkwell?" Felix asks, raising an eyebrow. "She knows about everyone's business."