Page 6

"Mmm," Christopher hummed softly, a smile tugging at his lips as he caught my scent in return. "Julian wasn't exaggerating."

Miles was next, approaching with less of his earlier wariness. His scent was the most surprising yet—clean and fresh like pine forests after snow, with something wilder underneath that spoke of freedom and open spaces.

As Miles's scent wrapped around me, I felt a curious lightness—like taking a deep breath of mountain air. His eyes widened slightly as he caught my scent in return, the green in them brightening to something almost luminous.

"Well," he said, a genuine smile replacing his usual guarded expression. "That settles it."

Nicolaus approached last, his clinical detachment giving way to cautious curiosity.

When his scent reached me—complex and layered like aged bourbon and leather-bound books—I felt my mind sharpen rather than relax, as if his presence clarified rather than soothed.

Something about it made me feel more aware, more present in my own skin.

His blue eyes studied me with new interest as he caught my scent. "Fascinating," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "Having an appealing scent is a good thing, but not something that has to happen…but it is something important to our pack.”

"Complete compatibility with all four of us," Nicolaus explained, his clinical tone softening with something like wonder. "The statistical probability is..." he paused, shaking his head, "extraordinarily low."

I remained seated, feeling strangely anchored yet weightless all at once. The room seemed both sharper and softer—colors more vivid, sounds more distinct. My skin tingled where each of them had touched me, as if their scents had left invisible marks.

"Is that unusual?" I asked, finding my voice. "For an Omega to be compatible with an entire pack?"

Julian returned to his seat, but his eyes never left mine. "Very. Most arrangements involve primary compatibility with the Alpha and acceptable tolerance with others. This level of harmony across all four of us is... rare."

"I've never experienced anything like it," Christopher admitted, his expression thoughtful as he settled back into his chair., “Usually someone’s scent is something to help calm pack members, I have seen packs where scents bother one another or make one on edge…it didn’t end good for the pack in the long run.”

“It is important to be compatible with a person, personality wise, but scent is important. It should be something that calms one another.” Miles spoke up, eyes on me.

I absorbed their words, trying to process the magnitude of what had just happened.

The scenting had felt so natural, so right, that I hadn't considered how unusual it might be.

But as I looked around the table at their expressions—surprise, wonder, and something deeper I couldn't quite name—the significance began to sink in.

"What happens now?" I asked, my voice smaller than I intended.

Julian leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "That depends on you, Lilianna. How do you feel about what just happened?"

The question caught me off guard again. How did I feel? The scenting had awakened something in me I hadn't known existed—a sense of rightness, of belonging, that went deeper than anything I'd been taught to expect. But beneath that recognition was something else; fear.

"Confused," I admitted honestly. "I've never felt anything like that…”

Julian's expression gentled. "That's understandable. What you just experienced is what scenting is supposed to feel like. What your parents have been denying you."

"Why would they do that?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, raw and confused. "If compatibility is so important, why would they prevent me from experiencing it?"

Nicolaus's blue eyes hardened. "Control. If you don't know what you're missing, you can't demand it."

The truth of his words hit me like a physical blow. All those years of supervised interactions, of being told that my preferences didn't matter—it had all been deliberate. A way to ensure I would accept whatever arrangement they made, regardless of how it felt.

"Your parents know that if you experienced true compatibility, you might refuse an incompatible match," Christopher explained, his voice gentle but firm. "They've kept you ignorant to keep you malleable."

The room spun slightly around me as years of careful conditioning collided with this new reality. I steadied myself against the table, fingers pressing into the smooth surface.

"Breathe," Julian said quietly. "Just breathe."

I drew in a shaky breath, then another. The mingled scents of the four Alphas—now familiar, comforting—helped anchor me to the present moment.

"I don't know what to do with this information," I confessed, looking up to meet Julian's steady gaze. "Everything I've been taught says I should ignore what I just felt. That duty comes before...before..."

"Before happiness?" Miles suggested, his voice softer than I'd heard it before. "Before connection?"

I nodded, unable to find the words.

"Lilianna," Julian said, my name sounding different in his mouth—not a possession but a person. "What we just experienced—that compatibility—it's not something manufactured or trained. It's real. And rare."

My hands trembled slightly in my lap. I'd been prepared for so many scenarios—rejection, conditional acceptance, polite dismissal—but not this. Not genuine connection that bypassed every carefully constructed barrier.

"I don't know what to say," I admitted.

"You don't have to say anything right now," Christopher assured me, his expression kind. "This is a lot to process."

Miles nodded in agreement. "We're not asking you to make any decisions tonight."

"Though your parents will expect an answer," Nicolaus observed, his analytical mind cutting straight to the practical concern. "They'll want to know our intentions."

Julian's eyes never left mine. "What do you want us to tell them?"

The question hung in the air between us. What did I want?

Julian, seeing my mind working a mile a minute, gave me a small smile, “We can take you with us, which will make you ‘ours’ in the eyes of your parents, where we will court you…

or we can tell them we want you, then find you a home somewhere away from them, where you can be free to make your own choices.

The words hit me like a physical blow. Julian was offering me something I hadn't even dared to dream of—a choice.

Not just between accepting or rejecting their proposal, but between two entirely different futures.

One where I remained under my parents' control while being courted, and another where I could escape them entirely.

"You would do that?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Help me leave them?"

"If that's what you want," Julian said simply, but there was steel beneath the gentleness. "Your parents have treated you like property to be sold. We won't be party to that transaction if you don't want it."

Christopher leaned forward. "We have resources, Lilianna. Safe houses, legal connections. If you want to disappear from their reach, we can make that happen."

My heart hammered against my ribs. The possibility of true freedom—of making my own choices, of learning the violin, of reading whatever I wanted—was so overwhelming I could barely breathe.

"But," Miles added gently, "that would mean giving up any chance of exploring what we felt tonight. If we help you disappear, it has to be clean. No contact with us, no connection that could lead your parents back to you."

The weight of the decision settled on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Freedom from my parents, or the possibility of something I'd never imagined could exist—a pack that saw me as a person rather than a possession.

"What would courting look like?" I asked, my voice barely steady. "If I stayed?"

Julian's expression grew thoughtful. "You would come to live with us. Officially, you'd be under our protection while we determine compatibility. Your parents would have no say in your daily life, though they'd expect regular reports on our progress toward a formal bonding.”

"And in reality?" I pressed, needing to understand what my life would actually look like.

"In reality, you'd have your own space, your own choices," Christopher said. "We'd get to know each other as people, not as a business arrangement."

"You could learn the violin," Miles added with a small smile. "Read whatever books you wanted. Figure out who you are when no one's watching."

Nicolaus nodded. "The courting period would give you time to experience what a real partnership looks like, not just compatibility of scent."

I closed my eyes, trying to picture it. A life where I could wake up and choose what to do with my day. Where my wants mattered. Where I could discover parts of myself that had been buried under years of careful conditioning.

"How long would I have to decide?" I asked, opening my eyes to find all four of them watching me with patient expressions.

"We wouldn't rush you," Julian answered. "Traditional courting periods last anywhere from three months to a year. You'd have that entire time to decide if this is what you truly want."

I studied his face, searching for any sign of deception, any hint that this was just another cage with a prettier door. But all I found in his hazel eyes was steady patience and something that looked remarkably like hope.

"And if I decided against it? After living with you?" I asked, wanting to know all of my options.

"Then we'd help you establish independence," Nicolaus stated matter-of-factly. "Financial support, housing arrangements, whatever you needed to build a life of your own."

Miles nodded. "No strings, no obligations. Your choice would be final, and we'd respect it."

The enormity of what they were offering made my chest tight. Not just a different kind of arrangement, but a genuine chance at self-determination. The possibility of becoming someone I had never been allowed to be.

"My parents," I said slowly, the practical concerns filtering through my emotional overwhelm. "They'll expect an answer tonight. When I return home."

Julian's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "What will you tell them?"

I looked around the table at these four men who had just offered me something I'd never thought possible—a choice. Real choice. My hands trembled as I reached for my water glass, buying myself a moment to think.

"I want to try," I whispered, the words feeling both terrifying and exhilarating. "The courting. I want to see what it feels like to... to choose."

Something shifted in Julian's expression—relief, perhaps, or satisfaction. "Are you certain? Once we tell your parents we're interested in proceeding, there will be expectations. Pressure."

"I understand." I really did…but I wanted to try…I glanced around at the four men. I didn’t know much about them, but maybe I could be happy with them. I just needed a bit more time.