Everyone spoke of them, Omega's, how rare they were. Vergil had his own, who died while birthing Nero. Dante had never met one, never even smelled the sweet scent that Vergil explained. It was a shame, truthfully, they were the only way for Demons to have children, the only ones who could bare children for Alpha Demons... was it wrong for him to not want an Omega? The others knew of Dante's woe, his dislike for something like that... but he also did want that- someone who was less than him... it felt wrong. It felt right when his mind would wonder at night after bottle after bottle of cheap liquor- he wanted to feel the warmth of someone next to him, his hands digging into the silk sheets of his bed, he wanted an Omega to share his heart and body... but Vergil found his after 25 years, only for her to perish... Dante had been waiting too.

When the news hit Morrison, he was quick to tell Dante- an Omega had been spotted after nearly 50 years, a woman who lived in Redgrave City. She was here- near. Dante felt his breath slow as the words went into one ear and swirled around his mind, behind his eyes that could only stare into Morrison's- then Vergil's as he came down the stairs at the news. "We need to find her, is she aware of her bloodline? If any other Demons find her- if an Alpha finds her, or even worse finds her in a heat-", Vergil didn't have to finish, Dante was up and out of Devil May Cry's door- he had to find her. Find his Omega... but is this truly what he wanted? To trap a woman he didn't know to him in such a way? Did she even know she was his only shot as having children?

Her days in Devil May Cry were... odd. Her body and mind reacting to things it hadn't before with three Alpha males within the office/home. Her body was hot, cold, felt too... much- she was awakening her Omega- and it was uncomfortable. She also wasn't the nicest, or most social woman- Dante had learned that the hard way the first few days. Now, he sat in his office, that cheap bottle of liquor by his hand that held a chilled glass, his lips pressed to the rim as burning whiskey found it's way past the man's thin lips. She still wasn't use to him, it didn't help he wasn't soft and sweet to her- but that wasn't him. He was hard to read, sarcastic and bold... this was a long journey and one that grated his patience.