5. Connor
Connor
The Lakeside Point Public Library smells like the wind before a big rainstorm.
It's petrichor and lightning, and I'm drowning in its intoxicating pull.
I need to find it, need to breathe it in like someone on the brink of suffocation.
I bolt through the stacks, barely registering the startled looks of tutors and contemplative frowns of old men settled in their leather chairs.
I desperately search for the scent that hovers just out of reach.
My heart races as I push deeper into the shelves.
I stop, frustrated, and a cough behind me has me spinning around.
A beta is lingering there. It's the assistant librarian, though I can't remember his name in my frenzied state.
My alpha growls within me, driving me to hunt down the source of that tantalizing scent.
I have to find and claim whoever it's leading me to.
My life will forever be divided into two parts: The time before I opened the Lakeside Point Public Library doors, and after I stepped inside.
"Can I help you, Mr. Evergreen?" asks the assistant librarian.
Tyler. I vaguely remember his name through the haze of scent surrounding me.
I know he won't be much help. betas aren't nearly as sensitive to scents as Alphas and omegas.
It's fading, indicating that whoever the omega is, they've already left.
"No," I reply, my voice trembling as I struggle to keep my composure. Desperation bubbles beneath the surface.
I storm out of the Library and head to my Jeep.
I need to get back to my pack. I speed down the snow-covered back roads, taking the tree-lined curves too fast. I slide to a stop in front of my house.
The Café serves only breakfast and lunch and closes at two in the afternoon.
My pack is home, likely in the office, tackling extra paperwork for our other cafés scattered throughout northwestern Michigan.
I rush up the wooden porch steps, taking two at a time, my heart racing.
I fling the door open, and the sound of the guys talking in the office hits me like a wave.
Stomping down the hall, I burst through the door, desperation fueling my every move.
Both of them look up at me, surprise etched on their faces.
Bax is alpha-tall at six foot three, lean but muscled, with a warm, umber complexion and dark brown eyes. He manages the cafés' financial matters, a job I don't envy. I'm absolute shit with numbers.
Seth is a broad wall of an alpha with a fair complexion, long sandy brown hair that he wears in a messy top knot, and a neatly trimmed beard that matches his hair color.
"What's wrong with you?" Seth asks. A small, crooked smile plays on his lips at my expense.
My breathing is heavy, both from the short run and the hit of adrenaline I'd gotten from the scent in the Library.
"I…" How do I explain what I scented? We'd talked about finding an omega.
We'd each tried bringing home ones that we dated to see if they'd be a good fit.
And though they'd all been lovely, they only scent-matched to one or two of us, and they had never been a scent-sensitive match to anyone.
It's been proven that if an omega scent sensitively matches to one person in your pack, they'll match to every member.
Something about hormones syncing amongst a pack.
So, I talk through the story slowly, detailing what happened in the Library and what it means.
They're both wide-eyed by the end of my little speech.
Seth's fingers are laced together behind his head while he blows a long breath at the ceiling.
Bax leans forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his face, and his head bowed like he's saying a silent prayer.
His eyes are determined but hopeful when he looks back up at me.
Seth's face cracks into a giant goofy grin and he lets out a small whoop.
I know he's the most excited of us all. He'd grown up in a large pack with two male alphas, one female alpha, two female betas, and one scent-sensitive male omega.
I'd lived with him for my last few years of high school.
The house was pure, chaotic happiness. We won't be that big, but he won't mind.
He just wants to be in something that close-knit.
"How do we find them?" Seth asks. I stare at him.
"Well, we can probably just return to the Library tomorrow," I reply. Seth stares at me with an expression that asks if I'm too stupid to live.
"Connor, today is Saturday," Bax reminds me.
My brain blares to a halt. It'd primarily gone offline since the scent.
On Sunday the Library won't be open. Of course it won't. In fairness to me, I don't go to the Library.
That's Bax's place to be during his downtime.
But I'd stopped because he'd needed me to get him some books, he'd put on hold, which I'd completely forgotten about in my scent haze.
"Okay, Monday," I say through gritted teeth. Going a whole day without finding out who the mystery omega is feels like agreeing to torture, but I don't have any other choice. She won't be at the Library when it's closed, and I don't have any other leads.
"Shit!" Seth is back on his computer, looking at his calendar. "That's the day we have the Gala in Traverse City."
Our various locations have been announced as closed for Monday, and we've rented out a historic building downtown for a free gala, including food, spirits, giveaways, and games for every staff member.
It will be all afternoon. We've made it a luncheon so that no one is stuck driving at night.
We'll be home by the end of the day on Monday, but not before the Library closes.
We haven't been to the Café in the last week because of the Gala, and we won't be in until Wednesday at the earliest, with all we have to do before and after the event.
I stare at him. "So cancel it!" I practically bark, but curb it at the last minute.
We don't bark at each other. Besides the fact that the command probably wouldn't work, it's considered rude at best and abusive at worst. There are many packs with one dominant alpha.
Usually an older alpha with the most strength and dominance, which only increases with age.
But our pack formed naturally around mutual dominance.
None of us are more dominant than the others.
It's rare, but it happens, kind of like scent-sensitive omegas that way.
Seth cringes. He's a people-pleaser and despises telling people no or disappointing them.
Bax quickly takes that mantle instead. "We can't, and we shouldn't even if we could.
Several of our teams have arranged childcare and traveled today to make a three-day weekend out of it.
" I want to punch something. Bax stands up and clasps me on the shoulder.
"We will find the omega. It's doubtful they go to the Library every day anyway.
We'll go into town on Sunday and see if we scent her anywhere else.
If not, we'll continue searching when we return from the gala. "
Because this is a scent-sensitive match, as my pack, if they scent the omega they'll know.
Now, I can't hold back the crack in my voice. "What if we miss our chance? What if this omega is an out-of-season tourist, and we never scent them again?"
Bax meets my eyes. "We cannot control that. Focus on what we can control."
I nod, but the sinking pit in my stomach feels like a lead spike, twisting and turning, slicing me deeper into hopelessness.
My alpha is restless, the storm of his emotions reflecting my turmoil.
He wants to run, fight, and tear apart every home, hotel, and rental from here to the Upper Peninsula in search of them.
And while the others seem calm, they haven't experienced the gut-wrenching urgency I have.
They haven't scented the omega, and until they do, they won't understand.
What if I never find the scent again? The thought makes my heart pound. If I couldn't find the owner of that scent, I might shatter completely.