Page 25 of Omega's Formula

“I still can’t believe you got me in.” She’s studying me with those sharp eyes that have never missed a thing, not since she was old enough to walk. The same eyes that caught me sneaking out at sixteen, that knew I was lying about being fine after Alistair, that see through every mask I’ve ever tried to wear. “TheBarclay trial was closed. They weren’t taking new patients. And then suddenly I get a call saying I’m in? How did you manage it?”

“I know people. Made some calls. You know how it is,” I say it in a joking tone like I am the kind of person who ‘makes some calls’ and has the world fall at his feet.

“Nolan.” She draws out my name the way she always does when she’s about to call me on my bullshit. “You’re doing that thing. That thing where you won’t look at me properly because you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar. You know that, right? You’ve always been a terrible liar and you haven’t gotten any better at it.” But there must be something in my face, because she lets it go, reaching out to squeeze my arm with fingers that are still too fragile. “Whatever you did... thank you. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

“It’s nothing,” I say instead. “You’re my sister. I’d do anything for you.”

That, at least, is true.

That night, alone in the apartment again, I search. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Evidence. Ammunition. Something I can use against Erik when this farce is over.

I go through every drawer, every cabinet, every shelf. Check the pockets of his old clothes and find nothing but lint and a faded receipt from a coffee shop dated eight years ago. Examine the books, looking for... what? A signed confession?Dear Nolan, I knew Alistair stole your research. Sincerely, your nemesis.

I search until two in the morning, finding nothing, then collapse on the bed.

The days blur together.

I work. I visit Ellie. I come back to the apartment and exist in this strange half-life of staged domesticity.

Every morning I wake up surrounded by Erik’s scent, my body already half-hard before I’m fully conscious. Every night I lie in his bed and fight the urge to touch myself again, to give in to the fantasies that plague me. Sometimes I win that fight. Usually I don’t.

I leave Erik’s toiletries artfully arranged in the bathroom and put extra dishes on the drying rack after every meal. I make the bed like two people slept in it, even though the other side stays cold and empty. I keep his clothes in the closet and pretend not to notice when I catch myself touching them, running my fingers over the fabric of his old shirts like some kind of lovesick idiot.

I am not lovesick. I am not anything-sick. This is just chemistry, just pheromones, just my stupid omega biology reacting to an alpha it’s decided is a good match. It’ll be a hard withdrawal but I know it’s possible.

I hear nothing from Erik himself. Not a call, not a text, not even a message passed through Sara. He’s keeping his distance exactly like he promised, and I should be grateful for that. I am grateful for that.

Mostly.

Which is fine. Perfect, actually. Exactly what we agreed to.

Three weeks pass.

Then my phone rings at work. Caller ID:Omega Match Bureau.

“Mr. West. David Sun. I’m calling about your matching status.”

“Is something wrong?”

“We’ve flagged the Nilsson-West match for non-compliance. Zero cohabitation evidence. No joint appearances. No indication of good-faith effort.”

My heart hammers. “We’ve been busy. We live together. We’re adjusting—”

“You have seventy-two hours to demonstrate compliance or face a tribunal hearing. I suggest you speak with your husband.”

The line goes dead.

I stand there for a moment, phone in hand, trying to think through the sudden roar of white noise in my head. Seventy-two hours. Three days. I need to call Sara. I need to figure out what we’re going to do. I need—

My phone buzzes again. The hospital.

Everything else disappears.

“Mr. West? This is Dr. Burke. I wanted to let you know that Ellie had a minor episode this afternoon. A seizure. It’s a known potential side effect of the treatment, nothing to be alarmed about. She’s perfectly fine now, resting comfortably. We’re monitoring her closely.”