36. Chapter 36
Elias
I sat in my study, reading the literature that went over bonding and long-term success.
I’d explored these topics before, but now I had a renewed interest. Arabella had been begging us to bite her after the launch party catastrophe.
She claimed she wouldn’t feel safe until she was bonded to us.
Hunter was also pushing for us to bond with Arabella soon, and though Ronan wasn’t opposed to it, he hadn’t shown the enthusiasm I thought he would at the prospect. But to me, nothing about it felt right.
I was a doctor - I’d treated patients with all types of issues, bonded and otherwise.
But after studying hundreds of successful bonds, one pattern emerged again and again.
The healthiest, happiest packs weren't simply compatible - they were deeply enamored with one another.
You could just see it in the way they were around each other.
I didn’t feel that with Arabella, and I didn’t even feel right about my own pack.
In fact, we were more distant than ever.
Hunter was rushed, his own worries about ending up in an unhealthy bond driving his decision-making.
I could feel his stress through our bond.
Ronan just felt distant. He was never one to be open about his feelings, but lately he felt closed off, even when he was trying to care for Arabella.
She should have calmed them and helped unite us.
Our pack should feel closer, not strained. None of this made me want to bond.
My mind kept drifting back to Ivy’s face, tears in her eyes as she cried out that Arabella had stolen her profile.
It sounded impossible. Yet… My mind wandered to when we’d first met Ivy.
Even the memories of those days brought a smile to my face.
Yes, she was unstable, and she had attacked Arabella, even supposedly stealing from her.
But I had to know for certain what was going on.
I was sitting in my office reviewing another bonding study when I heard a soft knock against the door.
I looked up to see Arabella standing in the doorway.
She smiled immediately, her expression brightening in a way that should have made me happy.
And with the scant robe she was wearing, I certainly should have been more excited.
"Working again?" she asked playfully.
"When am I not?" I replied, eyeing her up and down.
She laughed and stepped inside. Over the past several weeks, I had begun noticing something I couldn't quite ignore.
Every interaction with Arabella felt too polished.
Everything she said seemed perfectly tailored to what she thought we wanted to hear.
She was charming and affectionate, yet I couldn't remember a single conversation where I felt like I had actually learned something real about her. I knew trauma could affect the way she acted - but she didn’t even show the usual symptoms of past trauma. It puzzled me.
She crossed the room and perched herself on the arm of my chair before reaching down to trace her fingers along my shoulder.
"I've barely seen you all day," she murmured. The robe fell off her shoulder, revealing what seemed to be an extremely expensive set of lingerie underneath. Okay. So Arabella definitely wanted something.
"You saw me this morning," I said, and her hand wandered across my shoulder, down to my chest, lingering as she leaned in. I could smell the irresistible perfume on her neck, the one I’d been so eager to smell again, the one that, while I still loved it, felt slightly hollow.
"That doesn't count. I want more of you,” She whispered, her lips next to my ear as she moved to straddle my leg, her robe opening to reveal just a scant bra and panties. Her hands moved across my body, and though she looked like seduction personified, I reached for her hand before it went too low.
"Arabella," I warned, and she immediately looked up.
"Hm?"
"Can you do something for me?" I asked, and she smiled, nodding.
"Anything for you, baby.” The answer came so quickly it barely sounded considered. I leaned back slightly in my chair.
"Take off the replica." Her smile froze as shock flashed across her face.
"What?" she asked, her voice a pitch too high.
"The perfume replica," I repeated. Arabella’s eyes widened. I’d clocked it when we smelled it at the launch party - yes, it was the same fragrance from the gala, only stronger.
I was able to smell the notes fully, and it was the most beautiful fragrance I could ever have imagined.
But there was something missing - the primal pheromones that also came out from an omega’s glands, the ones that made a beta want to care for one, or drew an alpha into a rut when the omega was close to heat.
There should have been notes of anxiety and fear, along with neediness in the perfume when that happened.
I figured it out later when everything calmed down.
No, Arabella hadn’t expressed that perfume from her scent glands - she had sprayed it. Intentionally.
"I don't know what you mean," she stammered.
"Yes, you do." The words came out gently, but I didn't look away. “I just want to smell you. Not the replica. Your own perfume. From your glands.” I said, and she laughed nervously.
"Elias, you're being weird." She said, her body now stiff as she sat on my lap.
"You clearly want to bond. I just want to know what you smell like, directly from your own body. It's a gorgeous fragrance - but I can tell it’s the replica. It doesn't carry natural pheromones. I can recognize the difference." I held her gaze steadily. "I just want to smell your real scent."
Immediately, she looked away. A strange feeling formed in my stomach.
"I've told you before that I'm shy about that." She argued.
"I know. But you’re not shy about coming in here to seduce me, or asking to be bonded.” I said, and she looked away.
"You can smell me as much as you want after we’re bonded.
" She said, a little too quickly. It didn’t make sense.
Most omegas guarded their scent around strangers, but we weren't strangers.
We were supposed to be her future mates.
We were supposed to be the people she trusted most. She wanted us to smell her replica perfume, and she could have easily expressed it naturally.
"Arabella,” I said, my voice nearly begging. “Why can’t you share your perfume with me?”
She withdrew, her demeanor suddenly aloof.
"I'm not comfortable with it. Not until we’re bonded." She crossed her arms, looking away. That was enough for me. I stood up, picking her up and placing her on her feet as I walked toward the door. Arabella looked at me with disbelief.
"Where are you going?" She demanded.
"For a walk." I left before she could stop me.
The moment I stepped into the hallway, I felt a headache forming behind my eyes. I had to know more. I needed answers to all the things that Arabella wasn’t telling me. All of this was too rushed, and such serious decisions like bonding should never be rushed.
But I knew who would talk. Ivy had been acting erratic and nonsensical.
If she really thought her match profile had been stolen, she would have brought it up much sooner.
Yet, despite everything, I felt like she might have some answers.
She always seemed like there was more she wanted to say.
And I needed to know directly from her what was going on.
I’d tried calling Pack Carrington to ask about her, especially after the last dramatic blow-up.
I wanted to know if they would get her help - but they continuously brushed me off.
Clara said they would deal with Ivy as a family, and I wouldn’t have to see her again.
Hunter had even alpha barked her to stay away from all of us.
Now, I had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.
Soon, I found myself driving. I didn’t bother calling - I’d shown up there so often now that the security at the gate waved me through.
When I pulled up, the property felt strangely empty.
The usual activity that accompanied a wealthy family household seemed completely absent, and I didn’t see any of their cars around.
A member of the staff answered the door.
"I need to speak to Ivy. It’s urgent.” I said. The man hesitated, his eyes widening.
“I’m sorry, but she’s not here.” He started to say, but I took a step inside. He held his hands up in an attempt to stop me.
“Sir, I cannot allow you inside at this time-” He began to argue as I cut him off.
“I’m the future mate of Arabella, you never had a problem with it before,” I said, my voice lowering as he looked around nervously.
“Now, where is she, and when is she coming back?” I asked, the sick feeling growing within me.
He looked around, stammering. I was about to step up to him and demand an answer, but something hit my senses.
The moment I stepped inside, I caught it.
The scent was stronger this time - infinitely stronger.
My pulse exploded. I knew that scent - I’d been dreaming about it for months. But this was real, not a replica.
Following it felt almost involuntary. I moved through the house, despite the staff ordering me, then begging me, to leave.
I followed the scent, the pure fragrance growing stronger.
It was so much more intense and beautiful - better than the replica could ever capture.
I went up a staircase, down a quiet hallway, and toward a section of the house I had never once been shown during any of our visits.
The scent grew stronger with every step, every note full and tantalizing. But something was wrong, and I could smell it even now. By the time I reached the final door, my hands were shaking. I pushed the door in, and the room beyond made my jaw drop open in shock.