When I arrived home with a "feral" top-Alpha covered in mosquito bites, I knew we were in for drama.

Sure enough—my parents and Lucas formed a grim tribunal at the bottom of the stairs, faces competing for "Most Severe Expression."


Mom rushed over, frantically checking me for damage: "Where on earth have you been? I was worried sick!"

Lucas barely glanced at me, his eyes locked on Julian. His face was ashen, eyes swimming with betrayal and despair.

"Aurora," he croaked, voice raw, "why? After all these years together, how could you fall for someone else so quickly?"


His question dripped with that uniquely Beta helplessness in our Alpha/Omega world. He might as well have been asking the universe why he wasn't born an Alpha.

I met his gaze, suppressing a sigh. "Lucas, I can't put my life on hold indefinitely. Love isn't a deli counter—there's no 'take a number' system."


My composure clearly inflamed him. He lunged forward and, right in front of my parents, jabbed a finger at Julian:

"Sir, Ma'am! Don't be fooled! He manipulated Aurora into this relationship! This guy… he's mentally unstable!" He'd abandoned all restraint, exposing Julian's deepest vulnerability. "His pheromones are fundamentally defective—dangerously unstable! That's why he has severe social anxiety! You can't possibly trust Aurora's safety with him!"

The air crystallized.

My parents' faces transformed. Julian went rigid, his already pale complexion turning ghostly white. He instinctively shrank back, trying to disappear.

In that moment, rage surged from my chest to my brain like wildfire.

CRACK!

The sharp sound of a slap shattered the night's stillness.

I'd struck Lucas with every ounce of my strength. His head snapped sideways, a perfect red handprint blooming on his cheek.

Everyone froze in shock.

"You absolute bastard!" I trembled with fury, positioning myself in front of Julian like a shield. "His pheromone condition, who he is as a person—you have NO right to judge! What gives you the right to attack him so cruelly?"

As tension crackled in the air, Julian—whom I'd been shielding—gently tugged at my sleeve.

He stepped forward, approached my stone-faced parents, and bowed deeply.

"Sir, Ma'am, I apologize." He straightened, eyes nervous but blazing with newfound determination. "I acknowledge my pheromone condition is… unusual. It's caused me significant psychological distress. But I'm actively pursuing treatment and learning to communicate better. I… care deeply for Aurora, and I promise to cherish and protect her with everything I have. Please… give me a chance."

He delivered this speech in one go—sincere, vulnerable, holding nothing back.

My parents studied him, then glanced at my resolute expression. Finally, Dad released a heavy sigh and remained silent.

That night at home, Mom entered my room carrying warm milk. She perched on my bed's edge and spoke with gentle seriousness.

"Aurora," she began carefully, "I know you're growing up and making your own choices. But… you've seen Julian's condition. Have you considered someone… more conventional? Someone like Lucas, perhaps…"

She didn't spell it out, but I understood—she meant a Beta. To most parents, Betas represented stability and normalcy, free from "complicated" pheromone dynamics. The safe choice.

I took her hand, meeting her eyes directly: "Mom, I care about Julian the person, not Julian the Alpha. Yes, he has issues, but I believe in him. He's getting better—and somehow, I'm part of that process."

Mom studied my determined face and finally relented, stroking my hair: "You really have grown up, haven't you?"

Days later, Julian invited me to dinner at his home. I was nervous, frankly. This was elite Alpha territory. Would they see me as some frivolous Omega unworthy of their perfect heir?

Stomach churning with anxiety, I followed Julian to the entrance of what could only be described as a castle.

What happened next burned itself permanently into my memory.

The mansion's grand doors stood wide open. Julian's parents, dressed in bespoke formal wear, waited solemnly at the entrance flanked by uniformed staff. And there was Vivian—our school's ice queen—actually smiling, surrounded by friends and holding… an enormous red banner!

Emblazoned in massive gold lettering: [WARMEST WELCOME TO AURORA, JULIAN'S SAVIOR AND OUR FAMILY'S GREATEST BENEFACTOR!]

Me: "…"

Great. I'd barely set foot in my boyfriend's home and was already being worshipped like a deity by my potential in-laws. The pressure was suffocating—next they'd be commissioning gold statues.

Julian's mother—an elegant, still-beautiful woman—seized my hands, eyes brimming with tears: "Aurora, you're finally here! I can't thank you enough! We tried everything for Julian—world-class psychologists, countless gentle Omega companions—nothing worked! Only you! Only your pheromones calm him! You've unlocked his heart!"

I stood there completely overwhelmed, managing only an awkward laugh. Meanwhile, Julian quietly extracted my hand from his mother's grip and held it protectively in his own.

While internally screaming, I began to grasp just how valuable a "healing" Omega was to an elite Alpha dynasty.

Shortly after that dinner, I learned the Lucas family had relocated.

That afternoon, taking out trash, I ran into him at the building entrance. He looked thinner, his expression hollow, that once-sunny demeanor completely vanished.

We stood in loaded silence for what felt like forever.

"I'm sorry, Aurora," he finally broke the silence, voice rough. "That day… I lost control."

I shook my head. "Water under the bridge."

He smiled bitterly, summoning what must have been monumental courage to ask the question he both desperately needed and dreaded to have answered: "If… if I'd been honest about my feelings sooner… would we have had a chance?"

I studied him—this boy who'd been my companion through childhood and adolescence. I considered his question honestly before smiling gently but firmly shaking my head.

The last spark in his eyes died completely.

That night on the phone with Julian, I casually mentioned running into Lucas.

His voice immediately tightened, a mixture of jealousy and barely concealed anxiety: "You promised you wouldn't talk to him anymore."

"Well, well, bubble boy's getting possessive?" I couldn't resist teasing. "Remember when you found it unbearable when I spoke to you, even for a thousand bucks? You were such an ice prince."

Silence hung for several seconds before Julian spoke, his voice gentle but serious:

"I remember everything."

"From the first moment I saw you in class, when I caught that… warm, sunshine-sweet orange scent," he said softly, "all I wanted was to talk to you."

In that moment, I finally understood.

What had opened his heart wasn't the thousand dollars or any of my chaotic strategies.

From beginning to end, it was simply me.