Chapter 1 The Legend of the Unclaimable #2
His attention remained fixed on the quarterly financial report displayed across the conference room screen while members of Wolfe Industries’ executive board discussed expansion plans.
Revenue projections, international partnerships, and acquisition strategies filled the conversation, yet Damien noticed several directors exchanging uneasy glances whenever his name appeared alongside media coverage reports.
Finally, Richard Hastings, the oldest member of the board, cleared his throat.
“Before we conclude today’s meeting, there’s one remaining matter.”
Damien already knew what it was.
“The council’s latest evaluation?” he asked without looking up from the report.
Richard nodded.
“They’ve selected another specialist.”
Silence settled around the polished conference table.
Several directors suddenly found the documents in front of them fascinating.
Others avoided Damien’s eyes altogether.
Damien closed the report on his tablet and leaned back in his chair.
“I thought we settled this last year.”
“We did,” Richard replied carefully. “Unfortunately, public interest hasn’t disappeared.”
“The stock market doesn’t care whether I have a mate.”
“No.”
Richard hesitated.
“But the media does.”
He slid a newspaper across the table.
The headline occupied nearly half the front page.
THE UNCLAIMABLE ALPHA REJECTS ANOTHER EVALUATION
Damien glanced at it before pushing the paper aside.
“They’re running out of stories.”
“Which is why they’ll keep inventing them.”
Another director spoke up.
“Our investors aren’t concerned about your personal life.”
“They’re concerned about uncertainty.”
“The longer rumors continue, the more unpredictable public perception becomes.”
Damien almost smiled.
He had built one of the largest corporations in the country through discipline, long hours, and relentless determination.
Yet people remained more interested in his inability to bond than in the thousands of employees whose livelihoods depended on his company.
It was absurd.
“What does the board want?” he asked.
Richard answered honestly.
“We’d like you to cooperate.”
“One final evaluation.”
“If the results are identical to every previous examination, perhaps the speculation will finally end.”
Damien looked around the room.
He recognized concern rather than manipulation.
Most of these people had worked beside him for years.
They weren’t exploiting his condition.
They simply wanted peace.
He released a quiet breath.
“When do they arrive?”
Richard relaxed slightly.
“The specialist is already in the building.”
“So soon.”
“The council wanted to avoid leaks.”
Damien nodded once.
“Very well.”
The decision surprised no one.
Damien rarely argued once he believed a discussion had reached its logical conclusion.
If another evaluation helped protect the company, he would endure it.
Like every one before.
The board meeting ended a few minutes later.
Employees stood as Damien left the conference room, offering respectful greetings that he acknowledged with brief nods.
He walked through the executive floor with practiced confidence.
Every hallway reflected years of careful planning.
Muted colors.
Minimal decoration.
Everything efficient.
Everything controlled.
Much like the life he had built.
His assistant, Claire Sullivan, fell into step beside him.
“The researcher has been waiting for approximately twenty minutes.”
“I assume you’ve already reviewed the file.”
“I have.”
She handed him a tablet.
“His name is Ethan Brooks.”
“Twenty-six years old.”
“Doctorate in Behavioral Bond Psychology.”
“Currently employed by the National Bond Research Council.”
Damien skimmed the information while walking.
“Any published work?”
“Several.”
Claire smiled faintly.
“Most of it questions traditional bonding theories.”
That earned a slight raise of Damien’s eyebrow.
“He questions them?”
“He believes emotional compatibility influences bonding more than previously understood.”
Damien handed the tablet back.
“So another idealist.”
Claire laughed quietly.
“I thought you’d say that.”
They stopped outside Damien’s office.
Claire reached for the handle before hesitating.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“He apparently requested that none of the previous evaluation reports be shared with him.”
Damien frowned.
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to form his own conclusions.”
That was… unusual.
Every specialist before Ethan had arrived carrying thick folders documenting years of failures.
Perhaps this one preferred wasting time independently.
Either way, Damien expected the outcome to remain unchanged.
Claire opened the office door.
The young omega stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, studying the city skyline rather than inspecting medical equipment or reviewing notes.
No portable scanners.
No scent analyzers.
No complicated machines.
Only a leather notebook rested on the nearby coffee table.
At the sound of the opening door, Ethan turned.
He smiled politely.
Not brightly.
Not flirtatiously.
Simply as one professional greeting another.
“Mr. Wolfe.”
His voice carried calm confidence without unnecessary enthusiasm.
“Thank you for meeting with me.”
Damien crossed the office toward him.
“I understand the council assigned you.”
“They did.”
“I hope they explained my history.”
“They explained enough.”
Damien studied him carefully.
The omega showed no signs of nervousness.
No exaggerated respect.
No obvious attraction.
His posture remained relaxed but professional.
It was… refreshing.
Unexpectedly so.
Damien extended his hand.
Ethan accepted the handshake naturally.
No hesitation.
No lingering touch.
No attempt to provoke an instinctive reaction.
Their hands separated almost immediately.
Nothing happened.
Exactly as expected.
Damien felt no rush of possessiveness.
No protective instinct.
No biological recognition.
Only the familiar emptiness that had greeted every previous introduction.
He almost felt relieved.
“Please,” Damien said, gesturing toward the seating area.
“Have a seat.”
They settled into opposite chairs.
Ethan opened his notebook.
“I’d like to begin by saying something.”
Damien waited.
“I’m not here to prove you’re broken.”
That caught Damien’s attention.
“Is that so?”
Ethan nodded.
“I’m also not here to prove you simply haven’t met the right omega.”
Silence stretched comfortably between them.
“I believe both assumptions begin with the conclusion instead of the evidence.”
Damien regarded him for several seconds.
“That’s different.”
“So I’ve been told.”
A faint smile touched Ethan’s lips before disappearing again.
“I’d rather understand your experience than force it into someone else’s theory.”
For reasons Damien couldn’t explain, those words eased a tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying.
Most researchers spent their first meeting explaining what they intended to discover.
Ethan spent his explaining what he wouldn’t assume.
Interesting.
The interview continued for nearly an hour.
Ethan asked about Damien’s military service.
His daily routine.
Stress levels.
Sleep patterns.
Family history.
He never once asked whether Damien felt lonely because he lacked a mate.
He never suggested introducing compatible omegas.
He never treated Damien like an unsolved puzzle.
When the scheduled time ended, Ethan closed his notebook.
“I appreciate your time.”
Damien stood.
“We’ll continue tomorrow.”
“If that works for you.”
“It does.”
Ethan gathered his notebook before offering another polite smile.
“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Wolfe.”
“You as well.”
Claire escorted Ethan from the office.
The door clicked shut.
Silence returned.
Damien moved toward his desk and opened another file.
Numbers.
Contracts.
Budgets.
Normally, work reclaimed his attention immediately.
Today it didn’t.
Something felt… different.
He couldn’t identify what.
He looked toward the closed office door.
Nothing had happened.
No instinct.
No attraction.
No impossible miracle.
Exactly what every medical report had predicted.
Yet as he reached for his coffee mug, an unfamiliar scent drifted through the quiet office.
Warm vanilla.
Fresh rain.
A hint of cedar carried by clean autumn air.
Subtle.
Comforting.
Almost impossible to notice.
It lingered where Ethan had been sitting only moments earlier.
Damien frowned.
Office furniture often retained faint traces of visitors.
That wasn’t unusual.
So why did he notice this one?
He inhaled again almost absentmindedly.
The scent had already begun fading.
Still…
For reasons he couldn’t explain, he found himself standing perfectly still long after it had disappeared.
Ten years of silence remained unbroken.
No instinct had awakened.
No bond had formed.
Yet as Damien returned to his desk, he realized something extraordinarily small had changed.
For the first time in a decade, another person’s presence had followed him after they were gone.
The feeling was so slight it barely deserved a name.
But somewhere beneath years of perfect control, something that had slept for far too long shifted almost imperceptibly.
The smallest crack had appeared in walls he believed could never break.
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