12. Paxton
12
Paxton
“ I
’ve done something bad.”
There’s a bitter edge to Sterling’s mint and green tea scent that makes my instincts sharpen.
I immediately put my phone down and give Sterling my full attention. Uri’s not home despite the early hour, and Oscar’s currently working on a budget report for our newest management teams, so it’s clear Sterling was talking to me.
He’s got bags underneath his eyes and drops down onto one of the island stools when I gesture to it.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, not hesitating. It’s rare that Sterling’s the one who comes to me with a need like this. He’s so precise, so controlled, that he’s always on top of his game.
For him to be in this state, to be so dishevelled, so stressed… we’ve got problems.
“Listen.” He heaves a sigh, tapping his fingers against the island, his eyes darting all over the room to avoid looking at me. “Scream at me. Kill Uri. Scream at his grave.”
“Uri’s not getting a grave,” Oscar says, not even bothering to look up from his tablet. “He wants cremated like me and you. Pax is the only weird one that wants buried.”
“We’ve been over this, but now is not the time to rehash why my choice is perfectly valid and yours is disgusting,” I say, fixing Sterling with a stern look. I will not let him delay whatever conservation we need to have.
Especially not when it’s another one concerning our gentle giant. Two pack meetings in a matter of a week about him means there’s more problems than we initially thought.
“Why am I murdering Uri?”
He shudders, and when he meets my gaze, I startle. They’re wide, frenzied, panicked. “Two weeks ago, I went into work on Sunday—remember?”
I nod. “You and Uri were both working that Sunday.”
Which is a rare occasion in our pack, since we’re firm in taking a Sunday off. We limit work entirely, close down the offices, and do our best to be present for each other as a family for that one day.
It works—mostly.
“Right. Except, Uri wasn’t working.”
I frown, and Oscar puts down his tablet to join in the conversation.
“What do you mean he wasn’t working?” Oscar demands. “He sent me an email at lunchtime, demanding shit.”
“Well, okay, fine, he did end up working but?—”
“Well, was he working or was he not working?” Oscar asks, cutting our beta off. “You can’t tell a story if you don’t know the details.”
I hide my smirk behind the rim of my mug and take a sip of my tea. Oscar’s not the most helpful in these situations, but right now, he’s giving Sterling the chance to actually breathe and articulate.
Not that the beta appreciates it. He huffs out a breath, his scent souring with his frustration, as he shoots Oscar a glare before turning back to me.
“Uri stayed there Saturday night with a woman.”
The air in the kitchen thickens, something primal shifting between us all. My skin prickles—something’s not right here, not at all.
“A woman?” I ask, not sure why that makes me feel so unhappy. Why my heart thuds nervously. I shouldn’t care, not in the slightest. We all have… dalliances.
Sterling vets them, and they only last a night.
Fuck being trapped again by an omega.
Sterling nods, heaving another breath, before blurting it out. “An omega. She’s one of our employees. Emmeline?—”
I blink. That doesn’t make sense.
An omega?
Uri’s got himself an omega ?
I can taste something sweet and foreign on my tongue, a phantom scent that makes my gums ache and my stomach churn. Bile rises in my throat, but I do my best to smother down my reactions.
They don’t need to see me lose it—not over something as inconsequential as this. Uri does’t get attached, not really. None of us do.
That was our deal.
He’s really found an omega?
We’re a pack, sure, but we’re in no hurry to find our omega. Not after we’ve fought through. Uri understands that. He knows that I can’t do this right now—that I won’t.
The unease settles in my chest. This isn’t one of our typical one-night stands, though. If it were, Sterling wouldn’t be sitting here like he’s personally witnessed the end of the world.
Fuck.
“Emmeline Whitmore,” Oscar says, his eyes taking on that distant look he gets when accessing his mental database. “She’s been with us five years now. Gerard Franklin’s department until recently.” He taps his fingers on the counter, counting. “Promoted twice. Perfect attendance except for heat leave.” His lips quirk up. “She outworks everyone in her department. At twenty-five?—”
“She’s only three years our junior,” I point out, unintentionally cutting Oscar off.
“I don’t think brainiac over there was going to say that,” Sterling teases, half-heartedly since he’s still pretty shaken up over this. “But, shut up, both of you. We’re running out of time if we want to avoid being late to our meeting.”
“The meeting?” I ask, exchanging a confused look with Oscar. “I’ve got nothing on my schedule until eleven.”
“Emmeline and Uri spent the night together on Saturday, two weeks ago,” Sterling says. “They were fucking, Oscar.”
“Why did you have to say it like that?” I snap, a defensive bite to my words.
“Since brainiac was still confused. Sunday morning, Uri creeped out of the office, then Emmeline left not long after. She was trying to sneak out but got caught at the lifts with no ID.”
“Well, that was stupid of her,” Oscar says. “She knows why we have that policy in place and that the only way to override it is with a security member. What was her plan? It makes no sense. She’s not a stupid girl.”
“You’ve met?” I demand.
Both Sterling and Oscar flinch, and I’m surprised when they nod in unison.
“I helped her get out of the building,” Sterling says, a hint of a lie in his words.
“I ran into her the other day when I was shopping for Lia’s present. She’s the one who helped me.”
Sterling sits up straight, his eyes suddenly laser focused. “When? What day was that?”
A tingling feeling races down my spine, and I’m struggling to control my anger. I don’t like being the odd man out, don’t like missing important information. I’m meant to be our head alpha—the one who keeps the others in control, the one who guides and supports. It’s my job to understand what they don’t and make sure that we’re all okay.
But Oscar’s warning about our lies has finally caught up to us. Every secret we’ve kept, every time we’ve lied of omission or bent the truth… it’s led up to this moment.
Uri, Oscar, and Sterling are caught up with an omega, and by the sounds of it… she’s manipulative, just like she was. Another toxic woman coming to try for our pack, to fuck us over, and probably take millions in the process.
“Why was she sneaking away?” Oscar asks instead. “On Sunday. If she had no ID, where was she going? How was she getting home?”
“I didn’t think to ask when I could smell Uri’s cum dripping out of her,” Sterling says dryly.
The burning feeling that claws in my chest has to be rage. It has to be.
Because, surely, it’s not jealousy. I’m not having that severe of a dry spell.
“I’m missing far too much of this story,” I say, cutting them both off. “Why are we having a meeting with her?”
Sterling rubs the back of his neck. “Well, this is where I did something bad. She called him yesterday.”
“You know this how?” I ask, a terrible feeling stirring in my gut as I start to put the pieces together. “What have you done, Sterling?”
“I… arranged for any calls from this woman to be sent to my phone.” I facepalm, and Sterling rushes to defend himself. “She’s a risk, Pax. We all know what omegas can do, how they can fuck us over, and Uri… he’s the most vulnerable. I was just doing my job and keeping us safe.”
I narrow my eyes at him. There’s a lie in his voice, in his scent, that betrays him. That might have been part of it, but I can clearly tell he’s not sharing everything—but whether that’s because he’s not admitted something to himself or because he’s just hiding it from Oscar and I is a different situation entirely.
“You think every omega is a risk,” Oscar says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t get your knickers twisted over this one. We’re not looking for an omega, no matter how sweet Emme is. Honestly, I don’t think she’s that problematic. She might lie sometimes, but?—”
“And that is what makes her a risk!” Sterling’s snarl causes me to raise my brows. There’s so much aggression in him that I’m surprised. He’s never one to get this wound up.
He’s the kind of man who utilises his rage and turns into a cold fury, into the best prepared weapon possible. He’s always in control, always precise.
Uri, Oscar, and I are alphas, and we lose our way to the aggression, to the rut, to the hormones. But Sterling’s a beta, and he never has that problem.
He’s the calm to our storm, the eye of the tornado that guides us through.
So this behaviour is completely out of character for him.
“I like her.” So simple from Oscar. “Although, that might change if her scent isn’t nice.”
“You didn’t scent her?” Sterling demands, leaning forward on the island. Oscar shakes his head. “Fuck!”
“Why does that matter?” I demand.
“Because… she claims that I’m her scent match,” Sterling says angrily. “The fucking omega is lying to me—to us.”
I freeze, my alpha prowling excitedly, eager to meet her. I’m not. I want nothing to do with her, with this situation, with finding an omega.
No fucking chance.
“Huh,” Oscar says. His tone is bland, and I’m not sure how he’s feeling. “I had the math worked out.”
“For?” I ask, unable to resist.
He gives me a dumbfounded look as if he’s truly concerned about my IQ levels, causing Sterling to snicker.
Assholes.
“Our mate, of course.” He says it so simply like I was just asking for what colour the sky was. “I’ve been tracking the variables for years.” His fingers twist like he’s pulling the numbers from thin air. “The timing is almost perfect.”
“Tracking variables?” I raise my brow. “Interesting. You found this data how?”
Sterling slams his hands onto the counter. “Enough. We don’t have time to debate back and forth. Emmeline is going to be at my office for nine . That gives us less than an hour to get there and prepare.”
“I don’t think there’s much to prepare,” Oscar says with a frown. “I don’t really care for preparing her a bath, to get her true scent to verify all of this, and?—”
“You cannot force her to bathe ,” I snap, shaking my head when both men try to protest. “Sterling, you should know better. Oscar, you don’t get to speak on anything but data . Okay?”
He nods, as Sterling glowers at me.
“Sterling, text Uri—and do not threaten him,” I command, rising from the table. “Then make sure that the floor is cleared for?—”
“Already done,” he says with a shrug. “She might be a lying, manipulative bitch?—”
“We don’t use that word to describe women,” Oscar says, and, this time, he’s the one with the firm tone. He’s typing on his phone, no longer paying any real attention, and I don’t even want to think about what he’s doing.
Hopefully, it’s work.
Please, be work.
“Did Uri respond?” I ask, suddenly realising that Uri hasn’t confirmed he’ll be here.
Sterling’s lips press into a thin line. “He says he’s stuck in traffic, coming back from that meeting in Bristol.”
“Convenient,” I mutter, rubbing my temples.
“There’s not even any traffic,” Oscar protests.
“He’s a fucking liar,” Sterling snaps.
I shake my head, frustration building. At them, at the situation, at everything. Oscar and Sterling are bickering, both men upset and tense.
Whatever Uri has gotten himself into is going to fuck us all over. I can see it now.
“Sterling, enough. Let’s grab our shit and meet in the car in ten,” I say, grabbing my phone from the table. I don’t look back, not even when Oscar calls Sterling’s typing speed out.
If I pretend I didn’t hear it, then it’s not on me to fix.
We’ve got enough shit to handle today, and whatever game Emmeline is up to… well, I already feel like I’m ten steps behind.
It’s time to catch up, and fast, before my pack is destroyed by another omega.
I look around Sterling’s office, trying my best to figure out where we should all sit. It’s Sterling’s office, but I’m the head alpha—should I sit at his desk?
Uri’s seat has an indentation of his ass and doesn’t make for a comfortable seat. Which is what she’d deserve, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d find his lingering scent comforting.
My alpha bristles under my skin, unhappy that I’m not allowing her sweet omega scent to be merged with our pack’s.
I can’t give her Oscar’s seat, since it’s the floor, and no matter what I think about this woman, I’d never stoop that low.
My seat is my seat. I don’t think I’d ever be able to sit on it again once it’s soaked in her scent.
Which leaves…
“The office next door,” I say out loud. Sterling nods, striding over to open the door, and I take a look inside to check it’s clear.
There’s no reason it shouldn’t be, but just in case we left files or anything around. The office space here only has a table big enough for eight, but it’s rarely used for more than just us.
Sterling uses it most often, since he likes to have everything spread out for security blueprints so he can see it better. Plus, with a large monitor on the back wall, and the giant desk space, we tend to come in here when we need to work out a project together.
I don’t want her to have any impression that this is work related. No, this is a pack matter—a personal one.
“Why are we in here?” Oscar asks, a slight whine to his voice. “I prefer Sterling’s office.”
“I know, but I don’t feel comfortable having her in there,” I say. He sighs but nods, clearly unhappy that he can’t sit on the floor next door. “This way, we’re in a calm space.”
“What are you going to do when it turns out she’s right?” Oscar asks, bypassing the chairs to sit on the table at the back of the room, underneath the monitor.
“I don’t think that’s a real possibility,” Sterling says, rolling his eyes.
Oscar crosses his legs, leaning against the monitor without a care in the world, and raises an eyebrow. “I spent over an hour with her as I helped her do her grocery shopping. I didn’t even spend my time calculating the cost of her food bill just to keep my brain busy.
“You’ve been stalking the poor woman?—”
“I have not stalked her,” Sterling snaps.
“Virtually, yes, you have,” Oscar says, not bothered by Sterling’s responses. “You’re as obsessed with her as I get about things, and that’s saying something. Pax is seething with jealousy and can’t contain it.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“And we’ve all seen how fucked up Uri is over her.” Oscar’s tirade continues, not caring about my protest.
Dick .
“We’re getting entangled with her whether we like it or not.” Oscar traces invisible patterns on the table. “And, sure, there’s a chance that she’s making it all up, but, honestly, my calculations support her claim.”
He looks up at me, completely serious. “The numbers never lie, Pax. If I had to bet, I’d put my entire savings on her being our scent match—all of us.”
“Math is probability. Of course, the numbers can be wrong,” Sterling says with a huff. “She’s likely telling the truth, but I’ve been around her, Oscar. I know for a fact that she’s a liar.”
Oscar narrows his eyes. “Are those the only two options that exist with Emmeline? She’s a liar or she’s telling the truth?”
We all startle when there’s a gentle knock on Sterling’s office door, and I smooth out my suit before striding through. Sterling adjusts his seat, whilst Oscar doesn’t even bother moving.
Clearly, it’s being left to me.
My hand hovers at the door knob of the office door, not sure what to expect on the other side. Is she going to be pretty?
Is she young?
Tall?
Is she going to have a nice scent?
Is she?—
Another knock, this one a little louder, a little more firm.
I open the door and take a step back, noticing immediately that she’s doused in scent neutraliser. I don’t know if it’s soap or spray because she’s truly erased any inkling of her natural scent.
My gaze darts to her face, and I’m alarmed by what I see. Pale skin, a rosy red tinge on her cheeks—more from sickness than anything else. Despite whatever make-up she’s used to hide the bags under her eyes, the dark circles are prominent.
Her eyes are a gorgeous bright blue, but my alpha isn’t pleased to see how bloodshot and puffy they are. This is the look of an upset omega—one who has spent the morning, at least, crying.
It shouldn’t affect me the way it does.
It really, really shouldn’t.
But there’s something about the way the air shifts around her—a warmth that shouldn’t be detectable, shouldn’t be noticed. It tingles at the edges of my awareness, subtly drawing you in.
“Emmeline,” I say smoothly. “Please, come through. We’ll be heading into the meeting room.”
She nods, her hands trembling, as she smooths out the pale pink dress. It’s business attire, sure, and yet, I can’t help but notice how it’s very feminine, very… alluring.
The dress is tight to her frame, hugging her hips, and yet, seems to hang flat. As if she’s lost weight since buying it.
Is she sick?
Is that why she’s targeting us? Does she know about Oscar’s history? About Odelia?
My eyes narrow as I close Sterling’s door behind her. I guide her through to the meeting room, and Sterling is the only one who rises from his seat.
She holds herself perfectly still, but I can see the rapid flutter of her pulse in the crevice of where her neck meets her shoulder. Her omega presence is strong, and it twists me up inside. Even with her scent hidden, this allure is something she can’t hide.
“Emmeline.” Sterling’s tone is smooth like he’s handling a routine security threat. Cold. Controlled. Detached.
“Mr Carter,” Emmeline replies, and although her tone wavers, she’s trying to be confident. Her expression lightens when she notices Oscar. “Oscar, hi.”
He grins at her. “Hey, Emme. Lia loved her gifts, especially the stickers. She told me to thank you.”
Sterling and I exchange a nervous look as Emmeline seems to shake in her spot, but she nods.
“Take a seat, and we can get started,” I say, gesturing to the table. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”
“Oh, I’d love a muffin—” Oscar starts, but then rolls his eyes at my sharp look. “Never mind, seems I have to starve. I’m sure if you asked for a muffin, Emme?—”
“Um, I’m okay,” she says hesitantly. At my pointed look, she slides into the seat at the head of the table, and I pull out my own, one seat away from her.
I don’t want to be too close. Even though we’re all wearing scent neutralisers, too, I wouldn’t put it past her to try and touch me anyway.
I don’t like this situation. I don’t like her .
“So, what did you want to tell Uri?” Sterling asks.
Emmeline’s brows draw together, her gaze darting between the three of us nervously before she meets Sterling’s eyes. “Is that where we’re starting this?”
“Why not?” I ask. She doesn’t look at me, but the way her breathing hitches has me frustrated.
This omega is wily. Smart, cunning, and cocky. I don’t like the way she’s trying to play us, the way she’s hiding her true self.
Sure, we can’t keep track of her emotions, but she can’t hide the way her eyes dilate when she catches one of our eyes or the goosebumps that rise along her arms. I notice every response, every calculated move, and catalogue them.
“I kind of thought he’d be here when I shared,” she says quietly. There’s a husk to her words, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to hold back tears or trying to force them.
I glance at Oscar, but he’s too focused on the omega, his eyes unfocused as his brain works. I don’t know what he’s processing, what he’s trying to figure out.
“You claimed we were scent matches,” Sterling says, and I’m startled by the emptiness in his tone. “So, why would you show up here today doused in enough scent neutraliser to keep your scent clear for a week?”
Emme flinches, blinking rapidly. Her fingers twitch against the fabric of her dress, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “This is, um, I?—”
Sterling doesn’t react, just continues watching her. A proven interrogation tactic that seems to be working.
“Stop being a dick,” Oscar says, cutting Sterling a dirty look. The beta raises a brow, a flicker of doubt in his gaze. “She’s clearly fucking nervous. You’ve never berated me for wearing it.”
“You’ve never made such huge claims,” I say carefully. I give Emmeline one of my practiced smiles from when I’m stuck dealing with business associates and toxic upper-class people. “You understand our hesitation, correct?”
“Yes.” She steels her shoulders back, letting out a heavy sigh. “I have never wanted a mate—a pack. I’m content with my work, truly. I have no doubt you’ve already pulled my records, and you’ll see that I have never been absent unless it was for my heats.
“I’ve always worked above and beyond, and that’s because this is all I’ve ever wanted in life. I’ve been?—”
“All you’ve ever wanted is to be… what? A manager? Close to us—to Uri?” I ask, cutting her off. My tone is sharper now, just a fraction. “I don’t think you’re building the correct case for yourself here, Miss Whitmore.”
Emmeline huffs out a breath, and, this time, she doesn’t hesitate in meeting my eyes. The intensity in her gaze sends sparks shooting through me, and I have to bite back the appreciative growl.
Fuck, she’s good.
“I’m an omega, Mr Sinclair. My twin brother is an alpha, and for my entire life—for our entire life, I’ve noticed the differences in the way we’re treated. Doors that were closed to me for simply being an omega were open for him, no matter how much better I was.”
“You think you’re better than your brother?” Oscar asks curiously.
Emme gives a bitter laugh. “He’d agree with me. I’ve worked twice as hard to be seen as half as worthy. Do you know that this is the only firm that gave me an interview?”
I exchange a confused look with Sterling.
“Maybe you just weren’t as qualified as you thought you were,” Sterling says with a shrug.
“Funny, because that’s what my dad said,” she says with a snarl. A cute snarl, one that truly isn’t that scary. “So, using my CV, I applied to every single job using the same cover letter three times over. Two were with my name, and all I changed was the designation—Alpha and Beta. Then, I applied once more with Evander’s name and designation.”
Her frustration is evident. “Every single time, he got an interview. They never hesitated. So did the alpha and beta version of me.”
She crosses her hands in front of her and raises a brow at Sterling. “So, tell me, Mr Carter, do you really think I wasn’t capable or do you think that there’s still an air of discrimination in the world that you’re fortunate enough to escape?”
Oscar nods, his grey eyes brighter than usual. “She’s right about the bias. Female omegas are only one point nine percent of the corporate workforce across the entirety of the UK. Sure, male omegas are next, but they still account for five point six, and they’re rarer than females. Quite interesting when you think about it.”
“Don’t I love being one of your statistics,” Emmeline bites out. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to prove to my—to the world that I was just as worthy as Evander and for more than having a uterus.”
Oscar’s gaze shifts directly to Emmeline, his expression softening slightly. His fingers drum against his thigh. “I know. I ran the numbers after meeting you. The disparity is… statistically impossible without systematic discrimination.”
“To who?” Sterling asks, his voice low and suddenly laced with something venomous. He doesn’t care about Oscar’s facts, not when he’s sniffed out something she clearly wants to keep secret. “What were you going to say?”
“Her dads, clearly,” Oscar says. But then, his voice drops, eyes darting nervously to Emmeline. “Her mum isn’t in the picture but was an omega. Fourteen percent chance of her leaving, fifty of her being dead?—”
“Oscar!” I snarl, unable to hold back my aggression. Emmeline’s reaction is immediate, a high-pitched whine that has all three of us moving towards her.
Oscar jumps onto the table, striding towards her, whilst Sterling rushes to her side.
But I can’t move.
I should. I should be reacting, stepping in, doing something.
And then she whines. Her omega breaks free, and something cracks in the chemical barrier between us. It’s not her scent breaking through but something more fundamental—a frequency only my alpha can hear, bypassing all my defences.
Instead of moving towards her, my body betrays me. I’m the only man moving away from her.
My breath comes out short and sharp, my pulse hammering like a drum inside my chest. My hands curl into fists, then immediately flex open like they’re trying to reach for her before I can stop them.
I don’t deserve to touch her. I terrified her.
The air shifts, and I grind my teeth, trying to shove the urge down once more. There’s a hum in my bones, a pull in my blood.
Something instinctive.
My alpha knows.
He knows before I’ve managed to process it. Before I’m ready to admit it.
He knows it all.
The realisation is strong and true.
Emmeline is mine. Mine to protect, to hold, to keep safe.
I want her to let me dote on her and spend the rest of our lives building up her confidence and giving her the world.
She wants love? She can have it.
She wants to be taken seriously? I’ll cut down every voice that refuses to listen.
She wants a company? She can have one.
If this omega needs anything, I’ll provide it before she can even ask.
That is my duty, my role as her alpha.
These feelings within me aren’t rational, they’re biological. Deep. Unstoppable.
“You’re not lying,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You’re our scent match.”
Emmeline’s face pales even further, and Oscar jumps down to her side, grabbing the small bin from near the door. Without hesitation, he hands it to Emmeline, moves her hair out of her face, and rubs her back, all within the time it takes Emmeline to throw up.
Sterling darts to her other side, but I can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
I did this. I hurt her.
I was so scared she was going to destroy us, to fuck us all over… to hurt us.
I never considered that all along… I was the one who was going to damage her .