When Raquelle introduced herself, she distinctly remembers tears welling up in her mother’s eyes. Of happiness.

Of course, it was right for a prize like her to be an omega. She was the quintessential beauty, brains, and babies all rolled into one. Not to mention what the Evangeline Ross name afforded her. She was the most sought-after prospect in the human and elit world; a guaranteed golden ticket to life.

Biologically, the cushy lifestyle was necessary, wasn’t it? Raquelle had been treated like royalty for essentially her entire life; and that had only doubled since puberty. Oh, how boys and men flocked to her. Not that she would ever get involved with those unsavory ones. Sure, being an omega could be dangerous —but not in this world. Not when she had a host of minions, connections, and wealth to protect her.

And you, of course.

“Oh, don’t make me beg.” Raquelle scoffs, though it’s playful. Bedside sitting what used to be her pillows, but now look like a pile of designer pajamas. Or various scents, instantly recognizable; and immediately comforting.

Rian and her father and mother. are all scents intimately familiar to Raquelle, and you. After all, that comes with being a pack. However, the amount of clothing jumbled together seems excessive for a nest.

“Come on. Just one wouldn’t hurt.” She huffs, pale hands sliding under your shirt, and you know damn well her nest isn’t the reason she’s so insistent on stealing your clothes. *“I’m all… what is it? needy?” A panther couldn’t sound more shy.