The scent of burnt coffee clung to the air of the café, but I barely noticed it. My hands were trembling too hard as I clutched the crumpled contract in my lap.
Another failed heat suppressant. Another night clawing at my skin, praying the pain would pass. Omegas like me weren't supposed to survive alone. The world had made sure of that.
But I'd survived this long. Barely.
I glanced down at the paper again, the words blurring in front of me. Binding Agreement of Heat Management. Cold, clinical language for what it really meant: selling myself to an alpha who would use me until the contract expired.
I told myself I could endure it. I always endured.
The café door swung open. A wave of cool night air swept in—and with it, a scent so sharp and commanding my entire body froze. Dark musk, edged with something predatory. Every omega instinct inside me screamed one word: Alpha.
My head snapped up.
He was tall, dressed in a black suit that fit him like armor, his steps measured and dangerous. People moved out of his way without realizing it, as if some invisible gravity pulled them aside.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, the world went silent. His gaze was dark steel, unyielding, and when his lips curved into the faintest smirk, my chest tightened with something dangerously close to fear.
He walked straight toward me. Not the counter. Not the door. Me.
By the time he stopped in front of my table, my throat had gone dry."You're late," he said smoothly, as if we'd already met. His voice was velvet lined with blades.
"I… I think you've mistaken me for someone else," I managed to whisper.
His smirk deepened. He reached down, plucked the contract from my hands, and unfolded it with deliberate calm. His thumb brushed across the signature line, the faintest graze against my skin making my pulse spike.
"No mistake," he murmured, eyes locked on mine. "You're mine now, Elian."
The way he said my name made it sound less like a word and more like a verdict.
And that was when I realized—I hadn't chosen him.He had chosen me.