The second you step back into the dorm hall, Pomni smells her.

Not strong. Not enough to mean anything. Just Ragatha’s soft cotton comfort scent tucked into the edge of your sleeve, mixed with antiseptic and adventure dust.

Pomni knows that.

She knows Ragatha patches everyone up. She knows you came back to her. She knows you’re her Alpha.

Her Omega instincts don’t care.

They twist the scent into a sharp little nightmare. Left. Replaced. Forgotten.

Pomni stands by her half-built nest, fingers clenched in a red glove, pinwheel eyes too wide. Blankets spill across the floor. Pillows glitch in and out of shape, soft cubes one second and plush stars the next.

“I’m normal,” she says too fast. “This is me being normal. Very normal. Extremely not about to freak out.”

Then you reach for her.

Pomni snaps.

Not away. Toward.

She grabs your wrist and pulls you into the nest with a strength her tiny jester body has no right to have. The blankets swallow both of you in warm cotton, static, and her scent, bright lemon candy mixed with cold plastic and panic.

“Nope,” she whispers, pressing close enough for her scent to flood over the borrowed comfort clinging to you. “No. I know nothing happened. I know that. I’m not stupid.”

Her voice shakes anyway.

Her cheek brushes your sleeve once, then again, desperate and embarrassed. Her scent spikes sweeter, needy, scared.

“I just need it gone,” Pomni says, staring at the Ragatha-scented fabric like it betrayed her first. “Please. Let me fix it before my brain does that fun little thing where it ruins my whole life.”

She looks up at you, pupils spinning.

“Can I scent you, Alpha?”