Page 6 of Omega’s Fever (Prime Match #2)

Milo

I stumble out into the hallway, shutting the door and Kellen behind me.

“Mr. Warren?” A voice cuts through my panic. “Are you quite alright?”

A man in a crisp suit stands in front of me, his nostrils flaring delicately. He wears a pass around his neck with the words ‘Omega Match Bureau’ on it. Recognition flickers across his face, followed by something that might be amusement.

“I’m fine.” We both know it’s a lie. He can smell every humiliating detail.

“Of course you are.” He extends a hand and I take it. His grip is firm and I’m horribly aware of how sweaty my palms are. “I’m here to collect blood samples from your client. Though it seems the match testing might be redundant at this point.”

Heat floods my face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mm-hmm.” He studies me with interest. “That’s quite the pheromone cloud you’re producing. When did your heat last hit?”

“It’s not... I’m not in heat.”

“Pre-heat then. These reactions can trigger early onset, especially with compatible alphas. Based on what I’m observing, we might be looking at an eighty percent or higher genetic compatibility. Possibly even a prime match.”

Prime match. Ice skates down my spine. No. No, that’s not possible. Prime matches are fairy tales, one-in-a-million genetic lottery wins. They don’t happen to people like me. And I’m sure as hell not a prime match with someone like Kellen Hayes.

But then maybe I am. Because I just didn’t fuck Hayes, I fucked myself. I completely fucked my career too.

“I need to go.” I push myself away from the wall. “Excuse me.”

I flee down the hallway like the building’s on fire. His knowing look burns into my back but I don’t care. I need space.

I get to the parking garage without doing anything else stupid but fumble with my keys, dropping them twice before managing to unlock my BMW. I sit there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to let my brain catch up. It feels like the world is spinning.

My phone buzzes. Anne’s name flashes on the screen. I let it go to voicemail.

The drive home happens in fragments and I nearly blow through a red light. My hands won’t stop shaking on the wheel. Every breath brings ghost traces of his scent, even though that’s impossible. He’s not here.

I’ve just completely nuked my career. I just fucked my client in an interview at the courthouse. He’s being processed back into custody, still smelling like me. The Bureau rep noticed. People are going to know. It’s only a matter of time before the gossip reaches the senior partners at the firm.

Then I’m going to get fired.

If I’m lucky I can salvage it but I can’t go back to the office smelling like this. I need to wash every trace of him off my skin.

By the time I stumble through my front door, my clothes feel like they’re suffocating me.

I strip on the way to the bathroom, dropping clothing on the floor. I’ll pick it up later and send to the dry cleaners. Or maybe I’ll just burn it.

I scrub under the shoulder until my flesh turns pink, then red, but his scent clings like it’s been burned into my DNA.

Maybe it has.

Prime match.

“No.” I say it out loud. “Absolutely not.”

I dress in fresh clothes, careful to avoid anything that touched my skin at the courthouse. It doesn’t make a difference. I can still smell him.

The drive back to the office is torture and by the time I slide into my parking spot, I’m vibrating with barely controlled panic.

“There you are.” Kao looks up from his computer as I enter our shared office. “Anne’s been... holy shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” The words come out too sharp. I drop into my desk chair and immediately start shuffling papers for no good reason at all. “Traffic was terrible.”

“Uh-huh.” He rolls his chair closer, studying me with the intensity of someone who’s known me since law school. “Is that why you smell like you just ran a marathon through a field of horny alphas?”

“Kao.”

“What? You reek, buddy. Like, seriously. What happened at the courthouse?”

So much for the shower. I open Kellen’s file, staring at his mugshot. His dark eyes bore into me from the photograph.

“The defendant and I had a slight... reaction.”

Kao’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Oh my god.” He’s not even trying to hide his glee now. “You had a scent match with scary alpha guy? That’s amazing. Was he hot? He looks hot in a ‘could snap you in half’ kind of way.”

“It’s not amazing.” I flip through pages without reading them. “It’s a disaster. Anne’s going to kill me.”

“Anne’s going to think it’s hilarious. Remember when Andrews got scent-matched to that prosecutor last year? She laughed for days.”

“That was different. Andrews wasn’t defending someone facing life in prison and then was just a scent match. This wasn’t just an attraction. It was worse. Way worse.”

Kao frowns at me. “How worse is ‘way worse’?”

I grimace. “Melkham ordered him tested and registered with the Bureau.”

Kao looks confused. “On the basis of what? A bit of scent? That happens all the time.”

“Not like that,” I rub at the corners of my eyes. I feel like I might burst into tears. “It was really strong. The Bureau guy said he thought it might be a prime match.”

Kao’s mouth falls open. “No.”

“That’s what I said.”

Kao sits back shaking his head. “That’s messed up. You can’t just ignore a prime match, even if the government lets you. Trust me, my cousin tried. Ended up humping a mailbox because it smelled vaguely like his match’s cologne.”

Before today, I’d have told Kao he was full of shit because there was no way that I’d ever end up humping a mailbox because it smelled like Kellen. Now I’m pretty sure I would.

I can’t tell him what actually happened and that’s even worse. This is the first time I’ve ever kept anything from him, but I can’t admit to what I just did. I just can’t.

Before I can respond, Anne appears in our doorway. Her expression suggests she already knows everything, because of course she does. Anne always knows.

“Milo. My office. Now.”

I follow her down the hallway.

“Sit.” She settles behind her desk, fingers steepled. “I just got off the phone with Judge Melkham’s clerk. Apparently, there was quite the scene in his courtroom this morning.”

My face burns. “I can explain. There was a scent reaction. With the defendant. I couldn’t control it.”

“Obviously.” She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Milo, you know it’s harder on omegas. Hell, I’m the one person who knows that better than anyone. You’re supposed to be on suppressants.”

“I am!”

She raises her eyebrow.

“I swear it,” I say. “I never forget a dose but I’ll get something stronger.”

Anne studies me for a long moment. “If you’re on suppressants and you still had that reaction, then we have a problem.”

I can’t quite meet her gaze. I feel thoroughly defeated. “I asked Melkham for a recusal but he refused.”

She sighs and rubs at the corner of her eyes. “That was the worst thing you could have done. Melkham hates delays and he hates it when attorneys try to slip out of something.”

“I wasn’t trying to slip—”

“I know,” she says gently.

My brain feels foggy, thoughts slipping away like smoke. I can still scent him on me even though it can’t possibly still be there after how hard I scrubbed.

“Milo.” Anne says softly. “You’re close to heat, aren’t you?”

“A week out. Maybe less now.” The admission tastes like failure. “I thought the suppressants would cover it.”

“Scent matches can trigger early onset. There’s no shame in it.”

“There is when it happens in front of Judge Melkham.” My voice cracks. “He already thinks omegas don’t belong in his courtroom. I just proved him right.”

“You proved nothing except that you’re human.” She closes the file. “Take the rest of the day. Get yourself sorted. But Milo? When you come back tomorrow, I expect you to treat this like any other case. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” I’m not sure if it’s true but I’m going to make it true.

She dismisses me with a wave. I make it back to my office, grab my things, and escape before Kao can interrogate me further.

I sit in my car for ten minutes before calling Dr. Garrett. He’s been my physician since I moved to the city, a beta who specializes in omega health. He answers on the third ring.

“Milo? What can I do for you?”

“I need suppressants.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Strong ones. Military grade if you have them.”

“Slow down. What happened?”

“I had a scent match, maybe more. At the courthouse. I can’t... I need something to block it.”

He sighs. “Milo, you know suppressants that strong aren’t meant for long-term use. We’re talking serious side effects. Nausea, headaches, potential fertility impacts...”

“I don’t care. I need them.”

“Have you considered just... talking to this alpha? Scent matches happen for a reason.”

“He’s facing twenty to life for human trafficking. So no, talking isn’t really an option. And the Bureau lady said she thought it might be a prime match. I can’t do this.”

“Wow.” I hear his keyboard clicking on his end as he begins typing up my prescription. “Okay. I can prescribe a six-week course. That’s it. If you need more, we’re having a different conversation.”

“That’s fine.” It has to be. The trial will be over by then, Kellen will have taken his plea bargain. He’ll be safely locked away in prison, and I can pretend this never happened.

“I’m sending it to your usual pharmacy. Milo? Be careful with these. The side effects are no joke.”

“I understand.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in line at the pharmacy, trying to look invisible. The woman ahead of me is arguing about her insurance coverage. Behind me, a mother wrestles with a toddler who wants to touch everything.

“Next!”

I step up to the counter. The pharmacist, a beta woman in her fifties, types my name into her computer. Her eyebrows rise.

“These are serious suppressants.” She says it loud enough for the entire store to hear. “When was your last heat, Mr. Warren?”

My face burns. “Three weeks ago.”

“Current medications?”

“None.”

“Have you used suppressants of this caliber before?”

“No.”

She peers at me over her glasses. “These are typically reserved for military personnel and emergency workers. Why do you need them?”

None of your fucking business.

“It’s legitimate. My doctor has prescribed them. Please, can we just...”

“One moment.” She picks up the phone, presumably calling Dr. Garrett’s office. I stand there, feeling the weight of the stares from the other customers.

“Alright.” The pharmacist hangs up. “I need to go over the side effects with you. Nausea, vomiting, headaches, dizziness, potential loss of consciousness if combined with alcohol. Absolutely no operating heavy machinery for the first forty-eight hours. Some users report temporary scent blindness. In rare cases, organ damage...”

She drones on while I die inside. By the time she finally hands me the white paper bag, I’m ready to crawl under the nearest rock.

“Take two every six hours with food. Do not exceed the recommended dose. Do not take them with alcohol. If you experience any severe side effects...”

“Thank you.” I snatch the bag and flee.

I dry-swallow a couple immediately the moment that I get back to the car, ignoring the bitter taste as they lodge in my throat.

My phone buzzes. A text from Kao: Anne says you have homework. She emailed you the full case file for your hot alpha. She also wants you to write up the notes from the Pemberton meeting yesterday and send it to her.

I send him a thumbs up, then drive home on autopilot, already feeling the first whispers of the suppressant taking effect. Or maybe it’s psychosomatic. Either way, I’ll take it.

When I get home, I settle on the couch with my laptop and open my email to see Kellen’s file which she’ll have had some intern scan and send to me.

I read through everything properly, then read through it again. My stomach twists as I read and by the time I’m finished, it’s dark and I’m starving and I think there is a real chance that Kellen Hayes is innocent. I have no idea how I feel about that.