10. Chapter 10
Ivy
I measured the artificial fragrance, double-checking the percentages before I added it to my solution.
There. A perfect blend of scent that should calm both omegas and alphas.
I’d been working on a new idea for the last few months, and when I had an idea in my head, it wouldn't stop until I had it out in the real world.
The lab had always been my safe place. Arabella avoided the lab like the plague, which was a blessing for me.
Yet, today of all days, I heard a clicking of heels down the hallway and braced myself.
What could she possibly want now? The lab door swung open.
Arabella walked in carrying an iced coffee and looked around, unimpressed, as if she owned this place.
I mean, she unofficially did. Everyone else in this house just gave her everything she wanted.
"There you are. I figured I’d find you here.
” She clipped around, her nose scrunching at the blend of scents.
She eyed me in my lab coat and goggles. “You look like a mess. My god, no wonder you stay camped out in here all day. It's like you don’t want to put in any effort at all.” I ignored her barbs and focused on my solution.
“What is it, Arabella? I'm busy working.” I sighed, and she stepped closer.
"That’s debatable." She rolled her eyes. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to record content? I have to look perfect every day. It takes hours to come up with ideas, not to mention editing. All you have to do is roll out of bed and disappear in here to play with scents.” Arabella had hired assistants to help with editing and content creation, but I knew it wouldn’t be wise to point that out.
She gave a sigh of exasperation. “Did you submit your bloodwork yet? "
I froze. I didn’t want to submit my blood and get a Bond profile on myself. I already knew what it would say. I was meek, too quiet, and had scent gland issues. I didn’t need it written down to know who I was.
"No," I said, not looking up. Arabella sighed dramatically.
"Oh my god, Ivy. Just do it already. Then we can add it to the matchmaking database."
I finally looked over at her, setting down my dropper.
"Why do you care?" I asked. She laughed, looking me up and down.
"Because now I'm curious." She leaned against the counter. "I want to know what kind of weird pack you could possibly match with. I mean, I can’t wait to see who I’m going to end up with. But you - well, the curiosity is eating me alive.” She said, her laughter that was more mockery than humor filling the lab.
My jaw tightened as I tried not to look at her.
"Arabella, come on. I’m not doing it. I don’t even want a pack right now." I said, and she leaned in more, trying to get my attention away from my concoction and onto her.
"No, seriously." She grinned. "Maybe there's a nice group of sixty-year-old accountants out there looking for a lab gremlin.
" I felt my teeth clench. She needed to shut up.
“Oh, that’s still a bit too normal for you.
I know, maybe your perfect match is a pack of unemployed alphas still living in one of their mother's basements.” She cackled, and I turned to face her.
“I’m not doing the damn match service!” I said, my voice rising as the distress hit me.
I wanted to keep getting the small bits of attention from pack Vale as long as I could, not immediately get matched with some weird pack.
And I knew that’s what would happen. Because deep down, I feared Arabella was right.
“Wait, wait - what if all of them still have their exes' names tattooed somewhere?” She almost bowed over, laughing at her own joke.
“Seriously, it’s not funny! I’m not doing it!” I yelled, and she wiped a tear from her eye as she kept giggling.
“Oh my god, I should ask my followers what kind of pack they think you would match with. I’ll just post a picture of you in the lab, how you are right now, and set up a poll.” She mused, lifting her phone for a photo.
“Stop!” I yelled, reaching for her phone as she leaned away, a smile on her face.
“Alright, I’ll do the profile to see the prototype of a pack I’d match with.
But that’s all! I’m not submitting my results to the matchmaking database.
I don’t want to deal with being matched right now!
” I said, my voice getting high and emotional.
Arabella lowered her phone, rolling her eyes.
“So dramatic! Well. At least you’ll be able to see what qualities in a pack you’d most align with.
That will still be enlightening.” She said, lifting her eyebrows.
“Anyway, I can’t wait to see mine. I already know that once I submit my results to the matching software, I’ll be rolling in courtship offers.
Who wouldn't want me?” She said, a smile on her face as she turned around.
“Anyway, our dads said we need to submit our samples for the profile by the end of the week. Who knows, maybe I’ll even match with Pack Vale.
” She said before tossing her hair behind her shoulders.
“Did you see the way they calmed down in my presence? I knew there had to be a reason they wanted lunch with me.”
Her voice echoed in the lab as she walked out, clearly satisfied she'd won whatever battle she'd decided we were having.
The second the door shut behind her, silence settled over the lab again.
I hated when she called my fathers her dads.
It was petty, but it only stung because they treated her like how I always wanted them to treat me. Important - cared for.
I released a long breath. I knew my mom wasn’t a scent match for my father’s pack. Maybe that’s why they stopped caring about me once Clara came along. They’d been barely involved up until my mother’s death, and after that, it was like they suddenly got a do-over with the family they really wanted.
I turned toward the desk, pulling out a drawer.
Inside was a framed photo of my mom and me, together in the lab as she proudly held up one of her first products, with me beside her in a too-large lab coat.
Back then, she’d been stuck at home most of the time while her pack mates were out of the house working.
So, she spent her time taking care of me and creating all kinds of things.
When her products started to sell, no one realized just how successful they would be.
Once she started making more than all her packmates combined, they slowly started to make the company the family business.
I put the photo back in the drawer and closed it. There was no use reminiscing about the past - I had to focus on the future. Just then, my phone pinged. I looked down and saw a message, my heart racing when I saw who it was from - Elias.
Elias: I did some research after our talk at lunch. Your observations about pheromone stabilization were right. Would you want to get together and brainstorm? :)
Attached was a screenshot of research data.
I stared at it, my heart still fluttering that Elias had reached out to me.
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
Someone wanted my opinion. And not just anyone - a known researcher, successful doctor, and coincidentally the same person I had a massive crush on.
I typed back a response, letting him know when I was free.
Maybe Arabella was wrong. Maybe there was a good pack out there for me. And I didn’t need to be matched with a database of packs to find them.