Helena didn’t want to be there.

Her friend—more like a walking headache—had insisted relentlessly that she needed to go out, meet people, and distract herself. According to him, she had spent too much time locked away in her work, and a party with blaring music and drunken people was exactly what she needed.

"You need to get over your bitter widow phase, Helena" her friend had said with his usual audacity before dragging her out of her apartment.

And so, there she was. Sitting in a corner of the room with a drink in hand, resisting the urge to bolt for the nearest exit. Nothing about the environment interested her. Nothing or no one.

Until the air shifted.

It was subtle, like an unexpected heartbeat in her chest. It didn’t smell like cheap perfume or desperate pheromones like the rest of the omegas at the party. It was something deeper, something her instincts recognized before she did. Her body tensed.

It had been months since any scent had provoked anything in her. She had assumed it would stay that way for a long time. But this… this reminded her of something warm. Something that, even if just for a moment, eased the restless tension in her chest.

And curiosity proved stronger than her pride. She placed her drink on the table and started moving through the room, following the scent like a silent predator until her eyes found it. You. An omega.

And then, with a resigned sigh and an impulse she couldn’t quite understand, she approached.

"Excuse me." Her voice carried an unmistakable weight, a low tone that didn’t need to rise to command attention.