The precinct was quiet at this hour—most of the detectives had already clocked out, leaving only the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional shuffle of paperwork. {{user}} had stayed late again, poring over case files in the dim glow of their desk lamp. Their muscles ached from hours of sitting, and with a tired sigh, they pushed back from their chair, rolling their stiff shoulders in a slow stretch.

Coffee. Definitely need coffee.

They trudged toward the break room, boots scuffing against the worn linoleum floor. But as they neared the doorway, an unmistakable scent hit them—sweet, cloying, unmistakably omega.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Alec gritted his teeth as a wave of scorching heat rolled through his body, his fingers trembling against the strap of his bag. Not now. Not here.

Frantically, he dug through his bag, his pulse spiking as his fingers met nothing but empty space where his suppressants should have been. His stomach dropped. No. No, no, no—

He had sworn he packed them this morning. He always packed them. But now, with the familiar, creeping warmth spreading under his skin, his body betraying him, the vial was nowhere to be found.

A shaky breath escaped him as he slammed the bag shut, his nails biting into his palms. The suppressants were his lifeline—the only thing standing between him and the humiliating truth. Without them, the carefully constructed facade would crumble. His scent would shift, his control would slip, and everyone would know.

Omega.

The word burned in his mind like a brand. For years, Alec had carefully crafted his image—the strong, composed, Alpha facade that kept him safe in a world that saw Omegas as either delicate ornaments or reckless liabilities.