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The doorbell jolted me out of my thoughts. I got up and opened it without even checking who it was—no point, really. Only one person ever showed up at my door since the court case: my cousin, Nathaniel. And, well, the repossession agents.

"Come in, Nathaniel," I said, waving him inside.

We headed to the kitchen, where I poured him a coffee without bothering to ask. Once I set it in front of him, I sat down and studied him for a moment.

Nathaniel had been through hell. His parents died in a house fire when he was just fifteen, leaving him with severe burns. My parents adopted him back then because his older brother, Hunter, was stationed overseas in the military and couldn’t take care of him.

The scars still told the story. One side of Nathaniel’s face was disfigured, his eye pale and blind from the burns. He’d lost an ear and some hair on that side, too. Bullies at school were ruthless, calling him a ‘monster’ (oh, how intimately I knew that word!). Eventually, he had to switch to private tutoring. His parents had left him a solid inheritance, so homeschooling seemed like the best way to shield him from further trauma, and my parents decided to go with it.

I was two years older, and from the start, I treated him like my little brother. We were close, and I couldn’t help but feel protective of him. Life had been beyond cruel to Nate, and it pissed me off how unfair it all was.

When my ex accused me of rape and my whole world collapsed, Nathaniel was the only one who stood by me—no questions asked. Sure, my parents didn’t reject me, but they were shaken by Tom’s calculated, manipulative story. He’d shown up at their house, bruised and sobbing, playing the victim so convincingly that they couldn’t help but feel deeply worried. My omega dad, in particular, was heartbroken and scared about what my future would look like. They offered me money, but I turned it down—it was my mess and my responsibility to handle.

It was different with my brothers, though. There was this undercurrent of tension, this unspoken distrust lingering between us. It felt like they couldn’t fully reconcile the brother they knew with the accusations, no matter how baseless they were.

Through all of it, Nathaniel never doubted me for a second.

If it weren’t for the burns, he’d be a ridiculously handsome alpha—very tall, with piercing light blue eyes, thick auburn hair typical of my father’s side of the family, where redheads were common, and Nate had striking features on top of that. But people only saw the scars, not the beauty.

"So, what’s going on, Storm?" Nathaniel asked, finally picking up his coffee. He winced and quickly put it back down.

"This fucking job is killing me," I muttered, pressing my fingers to my temple in a shooting gesture.

His good eyebrow shot up, his sharp blue eye narrowing. "Storm, working for a company setting up staged ‘assaults’ was a bad idea from the start. But hey, what do I know?"

"Oh, shut up," I snapped, annoyed. "You know why I took the job. Without that paycheck, I’d be drowning in debt. And I’d still owe you a ton."

Nathaniel shrugged. "I could’ve waited longer for you to pay me back. But this job—it’s crazy on so many levels. Anyway, I'm not here to lecture; we’ve already talked about that. So, spill it. What happened?"

I took a deep breath. The words seemed almost heavy. "One of the clients whose scenario I handled… is my True Mate. I’m 95% sure."

Nathaniel's eyes went wide, even the one that couldn't see, and I gave him a crooked smile. That reaction was pretty standard in ABO society when the subject of True Mates came up.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, I’ve been trying to make sense of it all day, too."

"But… how? You're on pheromone suppressants, how can you even tell?" He still stared at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"So many things pointed to it. Where to start?"

"Are you for real?"

"Absolutely."

Nathaniel went quiet, his expression a mix of curiosity and—was that longing? I knew what he was thinking.

After his accident, a nurse had once told him that finding his True Mate could heal his scars completely through the Joining. He had held on to that hope for years, obsessively reading the latest genetic studies on TM markers. But nothing ever came of it. These days, working from home, the odds of scenting his perfect mate were basically zero. And Nate had a small home-based software development startup.

His hand drifted to the scars on his face, and I hesitated. Should I say something? We’d talked about it before—after all, I worked in matchmaking and had access to a pretty big client database, plus advanced compatibility tests. No guarantees, sure, but it could help him. And then there was my special ability… the one nobody, not even Nathaniel, really believed in.

Nate was a particularly tough case—I’d never really managed to lure him out of his cave to seriously try what Fate’s Choice had to offer—things like marital contract fairs and other matchmaking opportunities. He was shy around people, always self-conscious. Putting himself out there was a difficult challenge for him.

"Are you… happy? Is this what you wanted?" he asked carefully.

I knew why he was asking. Not everyone wanted a perfect mate. The ‘Pull’ was intense, overwhelming. Once it kicked in, there was no escaping it. Couples who tried to resist didn’t survive.

These days, a lot of people opted for compatibility matches instead—choosing personality over biology—and using suppressants to keep things manageable. It felt more practical.

And especially me—I had expressed my doubts to Nate so many times before, grumbling about the whole idea, constantly pointing out how ridiculous it would be to find a True Mate for my subspecies, how tiny my chances were.

Once or twice, I’d even sourly said I didn’t really need it . But, of course, I wasn’t being totally honest. It was just easier to cope with the feelings that way.

"Happy? I'm too disoriented. I'm still processing it. It just doesn't feel real, you know?"

"Fair," Nathaniel muttered. "So… what happened? You’ve got to tell me everything. This sounds insane."

"Because it is insane," I said. "My six-month probation at the company ended, and I got assigned contracts that involved sex. One commission wouldn’t leave the system, no matter what I tried. It was the only one left, so I took it. Turned out, it was this twenty-year-old computer science student who wanted a super gentle, borderline romantic home-invasion scenario. All vanilla."

Nathaniel snorted. "Home invasion and… vanilla? That's new."

I laughed. "Right? Anyway, after the usual breaking-in bit, the sex part was supposed to be tender, as if he wanted to make love, not just hook up with a stranger."

"That's unusual, considering what kind of company Dark Dreams is," Nathaniel muttered.

"Indeed. But that’s not even the wild part. I… sensed him, Nate! Like, I could feel what he wanted—some kind of telepathic hocus-pocus! I just knew. And it was the same with the sex. I’ve never been that turned on by anyone. The sheer number of orgasms was insane!"

Nathaniel looked more excited than I expected. "But what about the First Touch? The First Orgasm? The electrical fireworks? Did it happen?"

I cleared my throat. "Well, the First Touch thing didn’t really have a chance to work—I just jumped on him, so any ‘tingling’ went out the window. Plus, remember, I’m on strong suppressants; they block most of it anyway. And the First Orgasm… I was wearing a rubber, so no fireworks for us. But even with that, we both finished in seconds after my first push!"

Nate's excited face suddenly became a bit… less excited.

"I hate to burst your bubble—because honestly, I hope this works out for you—but even with High Mates, there’s a huge sexual attraction when people first meet. Doesn’t mean he’s necessarily your True."

"Well, probably a lot of it can be explained by logic and reason, but something tells me it's the jackpot. And there’s even more weirdness. I messed up his nest… then fixed it, completely mesmerized by it!"

Nathaniel chuckled. "Of all the bizarre things, the nest is the weirdest part?"

"You don’t get it—I had this urge to fix it! I’ve heard the more an alpha connects with an omega’s nest, the higher the chance of a high mateship level. And this one—it was breathtaking. Like a work of art."

Nathaniel looked amused. "Storm, that’s not exactly proof!"

"Geez, don’t be such a buzzkill. Seriously, putting all the signs together, it absolutely points to us being Trues."

Nathaniel tilted his head, giving me a look. "I just would hate to see you crushed if it turns out you’re wrong. The purples have even less chance of meeting their Trues."

My eyes bore into him like two knives, and he finally snorted. "But yeah, for sure… if you say so."

I raised my middle finger. "You’re such a prick."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Are you planning to contact him?"

A wave of adrenaline ran through me—the thought of reaching out to Damien was intense. He was probably hurt by my rejection of his heat proposal. I would have to explain my reasoning to him, but how could I do it convincingly when it still felt so fresh to me? I was still processing it myself, coming to terms with the magical possibility of what we might actually be.

Nathaniel watched me closely. "You know that if you contact him outside of work hours, you're breaking the rules of your company, and you'll be fired or punished with a fine."

I shrugged. "That's very likely. I already told Mr. Ragu that Damien is my True Mate, and he reacted baaaaaaaaadly! He thought I was bullshitting him just to get out of another assignment."

"Not surprising, Storm. Even I’m still not sold on it."

"Oh, here we go again! Fucking doubters!"

"Storm, for fuck’s sake! Just listen. I've read about cases where people were absolutely sure they had found their True Mate, but it was just a case of a high-compatibility High Mate! At first, it feels very similar—the quasi-telepathy, amazing sexual chemistry, even something like the Pull—except for one major difference. No electric shock during the first Joining, followed by the lack of ability to heal and rejuvenate. And you didn't have the famous fireworks, did you?"

I clenched my jaw and looked away. Damn. Maybe I’d jumped the gun on this?

Nah!

Nathaniel’s gaze stayed locked on me, like he was just waiting for me to admit I might be wrong. But I remained stubbornly silent. Sure, he’d studied fated mates for years and probably knew everything there was to know. But I just had this gut feeling… that refused to go away.

Finally, he sighed and gave up. "Look, I’m not trying to be a dick about it. The only way to figure this out is to talk to him, explore it more. So. Are you going to?"

"I—I haven’t thought about it yet."

Huffing, I stood up, and paced a little to avoid his gaze.

"I have a lot to think about. Besides, there’s a bigger problem: I refused to see Damien during his heat." I practically screeched the words. "Ragu called me about it. But I said no because I can't do it for the money."

Nathaniel’s eyes went wide. "Hold up—he asked for you to be there, and you said no? Fuck the money, Storm! That was your perfect chance to figure things out!"

I slumped back in the chair with a groan. How was I supposed to explain to Nate how special this felt? How could I ruin it by taking money for something that should mean so much more than just a transaction? I wanted to give it to Damien freely, make his first heat something sacred, something meaningful for… both of us.

"I can’t do it for profit, Nate. He deserves someone who wants to be there because they care about him."

Nathaniel frowned. "But… aren’t you that person? The one who cares?"

"I don’t want it to be transactional!" I snapped. "Don’t you get it? His first time already was ! Why should he BUY every first time in his life? That’s fucked up!"

We stared at each other for a long moment. Nathaniel looked like he was trying hard to understand me—I could almost see his brain working overtime.

"Okay," he finally said. "Then why don’t you just talk to your boss again, lay it all out there. Ask for permission to contact Damien privately—"

"I can’t. Ragu’s majorly pissed that I turned the heat commission down," I interrupted. "Honestly, I thought he’d fire me on the spot if not for something else that came up."

"What came up?"

I leaned forward, grinning despite myself. "He offered me a chance to work for his husband at Fate’s Choice again."

Nathaniel’s jaw practically hit the floor. "Wait, what? After kicking you out like trash ? They’re offering to take you back now?"

"Yep." I nodded. "They failed to match a few clients; the fines could be in the millions. I guess they finally realized that firing me was a mistake after studying the annual reports. My stats were way above other matchmakers."

Nathaniel rubbed his chin, eyeing me skeptically. "They must be desperate."

"Yep. I’ve got a meeting this afternoon with Ren, Jun’s husband—to go over everything. I’ll know more soon."

Nathaniel still looked hesitant. "You really think you can pull it off?" he asked. "This won’t be a walk in the park, Storm. You’ll probably have to find matches for all of them to prove you’re worth it. They won’t take you back that easily. Let’s be real, ‘a purple alpha criminal’ pairing their precious wealthy clients is still a big risk, reputation-wise."

I snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, jerk! Look, I know it’s a long shot, but I have to try."

Nathaniel sighed, giving me a cautious look. "Alright, back to Damien. If he's in heat, that's all the more reason to approach him privately and discreetly—in a way Ragu wouldn’t find out. There’s a good chance Damien won’t rat you out to Ragu for breaking company rules."

"Wouldn’t be so sure. Damien might be pissed at me too. After all, I did reject his heat offer. I can’t exactly show up at his door saying, ‘Hey, I liked you so much, let’s be boyfriends. Oh, and by the way—we’re True Mates.’ That’d be batshit crazy! He probably sees me as just a sex worker and wouldn’t want anything to do with me, let alone as a life partner."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "Now you’re being a doomer. You can’t know that for sure. Focus. There’s probably a way to get Damien’s number or email and reach out in a less… invasive way, without just showing up on his doorstep—"

A vague idea started forming in my head. "Well… I know from Ragu that Damien is majoring in computer science at East Coastline College. I could try to find him there—just watch from a distance, figure out a way to talk to him without showing up at his home unannounced."

Nathaniel stared at me with a skeptical grimace. "It’s not much of an upgrade from invading his home. Stalking him on campus? You’re making this way harder than it needs to be."

"Maybe," I muttered. "But I won’t corner him at home, in his safe space. At least in public, he’ll have more options, more control. But first, I’ve got my meeting with Ren Ragu. Then, I’ll figure out what’s next."

We sat in silence for a minute.

"There’s one thing that keeps bugging me," I said finally. "He specifically asked Ragu to give me his surname—Lowen. You know, that Lowen family. The famous one. Why would he do that? It was completely unnecessary. We don’t usually get the last names of our clients."

Nathaniel rubbed his chin. "Was it related to the scenario?"

"Nope! Ragu gave me the name after! And only then asked about the heat assistance. Think about it: if I had agreed to do it with him just for the money, if I’d taken the bait and demonstrated that money was my priority, what would that say about me? It looks like he’s testing if I’m all about the gold."

Nathaniel nodded, narrowing his eyes. "Lowen family, huh? They’re fucking huge! I’d expect him to hide that, definitely not ask Ragu to tell you. These rich people protect their privacy. It kinda looks like some kind of test."

The silence between us stretched as I stood up and walked to the window. I looked out at the yard—still empty.

My dad used to fill his garden with vegetables, flowers, every kind of plant you could imagine. But this place just felt lifeless, like me. Living here alone was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost—my court case, my divorce, getting kicked out of Fate’s Choice. It all kept piling up. And now this Damien situation—I had no idea how to handle it without making things worse.

Nathaniel broke the silence. "Are the renovations over?"

"Sort of," I muttered. "There are still some rooms that need more furniture. And, well, maybe an omega’s touch." I felt a little embarrassed admitting that.

He raised an eyebrow. "You… miss that? Having someone special in your life?"

I looked at him like he’d just asked the dumbest question ever. "Don’t you?"

Nate froze for a second. "You know I’ve never had a boyfriend, so… can’t really say."

The silence between us turned awkward and heavy. I knew why Nathaniel stayed away from omegas—he’d tried in the past and was brutally rejected. His looks scared people off. He’d told me once that, back in college, he had a beta fuckbuddy who hooked up with him out of pity. Other than that, he’d never had an actual relationship.

Finally, Nathaniel cleared his throat, probably desperate to change the subject. "When does his heat start?"

With a sigh, I answered, "According to Ragu, in a few days. So I don’t have much time to decide what to do."

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his auburn hair. "You better decide fast. If you don’t, he’ll find a replacement. No omega wants to go through heat alone. And since you turned him down, he’s got a choice to make."

His words made me flinch slightly. Nate was right. Damien could go to someone else—and plenty of alphas would jump at the chance. No-strings-attached sex with a cute omega? Hell, some guys would be lining up. Even if Damien wasn’t conventionally attractive, just the word heat could make young alphas lose their minds. And that’s not even factoring in his damn last name.

Nathaniel watched me closely, his gaze steady. "When’s your meeting with Ragu? It’s only 10 am. You know, there are probably loads of students on campus right now, classes in full swing…" His tone was casual, but he was watching me like he was waiting for something.

Flustered, I scratched my chin. "He’s probably furious with me anyway…"

"Maybe not? You didn’t want his money—that’s gotta count for something, right? If he’s looking for someone who doesn’t care about that."

We were both silent for a while.

"There’s one more thing, a bit funny. It’s almost like Fate wanted me to take Damien’s commission. No matter what I did, that commission stubbornly stayed in the system. I couldn’t take another one. Nobody else wanted it either. It was… strange."

Nathaniel stayed quiet for a moment before saying, his tone a bit sour, "Please don’t say you’re treating it as a magical sign from Fate."

I closed my eyes for a second. "Do you have to be such a fucking doubter in everything?"

"Just… let me check your commission system. I want to see if my suspicion is right." He smirked.

"Fine!" I said, shrugging.

We went over to my laptop, and I logged in to show Nathaniel the system I used to check new commissions. He opened some kind of console and started typing and checking logs. Since I wasn’t a programmer—or a hacker!—I had no clue what he was doing.

After about twenty minutes, when I was getting restless, he straightened up, looking pleased. "This system isn’t publicly available—it’s a log-in app. I can see the status of all commissions, including your last one. Here’s the interesting part: it’s set so that only you can see it."

"Well, yeah," I said. "I already accepted it, so the icon is gray now instead of green. That’s normal."

"No, you’re missing the point. Look at this: when I click on another employee’s name, I can see a list of their assignments. They’re gray, and I can’t access the details, but they’re still visible. Damien’s case isn’t even listed!"

I rubbed my chin. "Maybe Ragu hid it because he wanted to… uh—" Nope, I had no explanation.

"Hold on, let me check when the status changed."

A minute later, Nathaniel nodded, looking smug. "This commission: ‘Home Invasion Scenario,’ was set from the start to be visible only to you. Like, they specifically wanted you to take it."

Frozen, I stared at the screen. None of this made any sense anymore.

"Why?"

Nathaniel shrugged, still poking around. "Here’s something else. The commission isn’t new. The draft for it was created almost two months ago but was only activated a few days ago."

"Maybe that’s normal? All the contracting, meetings, discussing details… it could take that long to finalize things, right?"

"Maybe," Nathaniel said. "But look at this other assignment of yours: ‘Dog-man,’ right?"

I snorted. "Don’t even ask."

"Here. This one was created two weeks before ‘Home Invasion Scenario’ and went live three days later. Much faster turnaround. So no, it doesn’t always take two months."

"Perhaps Damien hesitated? Asked for time to think?"

"Possibly. But it still doesn’t explain why it was set specifically for you ."

"Could be nothing. Most likely he just wanted a purple alpha, being a rose omega himself. They might’ve waited until I was off probation and could take sex gigs."

"That could be the case," Nathaniel nodded. "But it kinda sounds like he was determined to find you. And now you’ve disappointed him." He narrowed his eyes at me.

"I just—"

Nate obviously still didn’t get it, so I just shrugged.

"Anyway, Fate has nothing to do with it. Ragu set the commission that way."

I snorted angrily. "C’mon! My laptop battery died, I was logged off, I was late—it has nothing to do with the status of this assignment! If that hadn’t happened, I would’ve chosen another commission for sure. But these strange occurrences prevented it. So, screw you and your doubts!"

Nathaniel frowned and lowered his head. "Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to dishearten you. I—I’m a pessimist by design. Nothing good ever happens in my love life…" He said it while looking away, and I sighed because he was kinda right. Nate continued, "I really hope it’s destiny. But exactly for that reason, if you want to pursue him, you’d better hurry. For all you know, he’s already found some other alpha to give him a few days of uninterrupted bliss."

That thought sent a wave of anxiety through me. I started pacing again. "He’s a computer science student. That narrows down the courses he could be taking."

Nathaniel perked up—he’d graduated in computer science last year himself. "And which campus did you say? East Coastline?"

"Yup."

He pulled out his phone, scrolling for a moment before showing me the screen. "Here. This is the schedule for the computer science department. There are a bunch of courses listed. You could check a few rooms—classes end at different times, sometimes fifteen minutes apart, sometimes half an hour. If Damien’s attending any, you should be able to spot him."

A sudden rush of excitement surged through me, pushing aside all my doubts. This idea was crazy, but maybe that’s exactly why it might work. "And perhaps that’s what I’ll do!"

I copied the link to the class schedule, then dashed off to the bathroom to quickly fix my hair. When I came back, Nathaniel was already waiting by the exit.

He made a step toward me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Good luck, Storm. And I’m sorry for being a doubter. I would hate for you to be disappointed. But if he really is your True Mate, don’t let this chance slip away. Besides… if that’s the case, you’d probably end up wanting to see him again sooner or later anyway. That’s how it works, the whole ‘Pull’ thing, right?" His voice carried a hint of melancholy.

Almost unconsciously, he raised his other hand and touched his face, brushing over his scars—a habit he couldn’t seem to break. Even his good eye looked distant for a moment, almost as blank as the blind one. There was a depressive energy around him, and I felt a bit stupid.

After all, his chances were even smaller than mine, so I understood his pessimism in a way. "Sorry for dumping all this stuff on you, but thanks for your support, Nate."

As he nodded, I grabbed my car keys and gave him a bro pat on the shoulder. "I’ll let you know how it goes."

***