Chapter 7 Compatibility #2
His senses seemed sharper.
Even the quiet hum of the refrigerator sounded louder than it should have.
Damien frowned.
Perhaps he was becoming ill.
That explanation made more sense than any other.
He changed into comfortable clothes before opening the concealed medicine cabinet in his bathroom. Rows of neatly arranged bottles greeted him exactly as they always had.
He reached automatically for the suppressants.
One tablet.
The familiar dosage.
He swallowed it with practiced ease before closing the cabinet.
It should have been enough.
It always had been.
An hour later, Damien sat in his study reviewing acquisition reports, but the words refused to remain on the page. Every few minutes he found himself rereading the same paragraph without remembering a single sentence.
His concentration had vanished.
Frustrated, he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Something wasn’t right.
The warmth he’d noticed several nights earlier had returned.
This time it didn’t fade.
It spread gradually through his body like the first rays of sunlight after a long winter, subtle at first, then impossible to ignore.
He stood abruptly.
The movement did little to relieve the strange pressure building beneath his skin.
His heartbeat seemed heavier.
His breathing felt deeper.
The room itself hadn’t changed, yet every scent surrounding him suddenly appeared more vivid.
Fresh coffee lingering from earlier that evening.
Leather from the chair beside his desk.
Rain drifting through a slightly open window.
He closed the window immediately.
The cool evening air offered brief relief.
Only brief.
Damien walked to the bathroom mirror, studying his own reflection.
His eyes looked darker than usual.
His normally composed expression carried unmistakable strain.
He placed two fingers lightly against the scent gland at the back of his neck.
Warm.
Not painful.
Simply… active.
A wave of unease settled over him.
No.
It couldn’t be.
He opened the medical cabinet again and removed the information booklet accompanying his prescription.
He had memorized every page years ago.
Still, he read the dosage instructions again.
Nothing had changed.
He had taken the correct medication.
At the correct time.
Exactly as instructed.
Then why…
His phone vibrated on the bathroom counter.
Claire.
He answered immediately.
“Good evening.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“No.”
“I wanted to let you know tomorrow’s board meeting has been moved to ten.”
“Understood.”
She hesitated.
“You don’t sound well.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
Damien remained silent.
“If you’re feeling ill,” Claire continued gently, “there’s no shame in taking a day off.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I expected that answer.”
Her tone softened.
“Please take care of yourself.”
After ending the call, Damien leaned both hands against the counter.
His reflection looked increasingly unfamiliar.
The restlessness continued growing.
Not painful.
Not overwhelming.
Yet undeniably present.
A memory surfaced unexpectedly.
A military physician standing beside his hospital bed years earlier.
“If you notice unusual biological changes, report them immediately.”
At the time, Damien had been too exhausted to ask what qualified as unusual.
The memory dissolved before he could recall anything else.
His thoughts drifted toward the laboratory.
Toward Ethan.
Toward the impossible compatibility report Ethan had clearly struggled to understand.
Toward the scent that somehow lingered in his office long after Ethan had gone home.
Damien straightened immediately.
No.
He refused to draw that connection.
Correlation wasn’t causation.
He had spent enough years around researchers to understand that much.
Even so, Ethan’s face appeared in his thoughts with alarming ease.
The omega’s quiet smile.
His thoughtful questions.
The laugh that still echoed unexpectedly through Damien’s memory whenever the office grew too quiet.
He closed his eyes.
The warmth intensified.
Another wave rolled through him, stronger than before.
This time he recognized it.
Not from personal experience.
From military training.
From mandatory biological education every Alpha received as a young cadet.
His body was preparing for a rut.
The realization struck him with almost physical force.
“No…”
The word escaped into the empty apartment.
His pulse accelerated.
Every instinct demanded movement, action, something he couldn’t identify.
He forced himself to breathe slowly.
One breath.
Then another.
This couldn’t be happening.
He had not experienced a genuine rut since before his final deployment.
Doctors had eventually concluded that whatever condition made him unable to bond had also silenced that part of his biology.
He had accepted it.
Built his life around it.
Now his own body was contradicting more than a decade of certainty.
Without hesitation, Damien returned to the medicine cabinet.
He removed the suppressant bottle and checked the expiration date.
Still valid.
He swallowed another tablet despite knowing he shouldn’t exceed the prescribed dosage.
Several minutes passed.
Nothing changed.
The warmth remained.
His instincts remained strangely alert.
For the first time in years, Damien felt as though his own body no longer belonged entirely to him.
He understood enough about Alpha biology to recognize what might come next.
If the suppressants had truly stopped working, remaining around other people would be irresponsible.
Dangerous.
He immediately opened his phone and sent Claire a brief message.
Working remotely tomorrow. Reschedule all in-person meetings.
Before she could reply, he powered the device off completely.
The penthouse’s security system activated with a quiet tone as he engaged the private isolation protocol, a feature installed years earlier at the recommendation of military physicians but never once used.
Heavy security locks engaged throughout the apartment.
Automatic privacy settings disabled visitor access.
No one would be able to enter without his direct authorization.
It was excessive.
But necessary.
Damien stood alone in the silent apartment, listening to his own uneven breathing.
Only one thought refused to leave him.
Ethan.
The possibility terrified him more than the rut itself.
If Ethan’s presence had somehow awakened instincts Damien believed were gone forever, then staying away from him was no longer merely the sensible choice.
It was the only responsible one.
Until he understood what was happening inside his own body, he couldn’t risk seeing the omega again.
Not because he feared Ethan.
Because he feared the part of himself that had finally begun to wake.
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