"Good," Eli muttered, stepping into the elevator.
But before the doors could close, Seren's voice returned, softer now, layered with the hum of digital analysis.
"Emperor, pheromone classification complete."
Eli's eyes flickered, a faint blue reflection glinting in them as the AI fed the data to his neural interface.
"Subject: Thalor Veyne. Genetic signature consistent with Alpha phenotype. Classification—"
A pause. Then Seren's tone dropped, more deliberate, almost wary.
"Advanced S-Class Alpha. Rank exceeds standard Virellian baseline by 0.73 units on dominance scale. Subtype identified: Adaptive Predatory strain. Capable of targeted lure and suppression override."
Eli's breath stilled. "Adaptive… Predatory strain?"
"Affirmative. Unlike conventional S-Class Alphas, this subject's pheromones exhibit autonomous adaptability. They can bypass suppression protocols and recalibrate dominance output based on the target's physiological resistance. Estimated control range: thirty meters."
Eli's pulse quickened. "Meaning—he can alter his pheromones in real time?"
"Confirmed. Preliminary readings suggest a genetic augmentation or engineered enhancement. Warning: his current suppression levels are voluntary. Estimated potential output—unknown."
The elevator hummed quietly, the sound almost deafening in the tension that followed.
"Seren," Eli said lowly, "compare with Riven Virellian's file."
"Riven Virellian: S-Class Alpha. Subtype: Stabilizer strain. Exceptional resistance, low aggression. Pheromone dominance score: 9.6 on standard scale.
Thalor Veyne: Advanced S-Class Alpha. Dominance score: 10.3. Estimated superior by structural modulation, not sheer strength."
Eli clenched his jaw. "So he's not just dominant—he's evolved."
"Affirmative. Subject Veyne represents a new class of Alpha. Recommend maximum caution."
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. Through them, Eli could see Riven and Thalor already walking side by side, their steps perfectly measured—one composed, the other calculating. The contrast between them was almost poetic: stability versus control, resistance versus manipulation.
Eli whispered, "Seren, initiate secondary protocol."
"Specify."
"Shadow-link to the CEO's vitals. Monitor Riven's stress response. If Thalor tries anything—amplify suppression field to full capacity."
"Acknowledged, Emperor."
Eli straightened his jacket, expression unreadable. "Let's see just how advanced this Alpha really is."
And as he stepped out, the faint, lingering trace of Thalor's pheromones—dark, magnetic, and predatory—hung in the air like a warning.
Riven's office door sealed behind them with a whisper, soundproof panels sliding into place. The soft hum of Nexus Tower's energy core filled the silence like a heartbeat.
Riven gestured toward the glass wall overlooking the city. "You can drop the formalities, Thalor. Say what you came here to say."
Thalor smiled faintly, taking his time as he surveyed the room—the minimal design, the faint scent of Riven's stabilizing pheromones woven into the air filters. "Always composed, always in control. The perfect Virellian."
"I try," Riven replied evenly, walking to the desk and resting both hands on its edge. "You didn't come here to flatter me."
"True." Thalor turned, his eyes gleaming with a predatory amusement. "I came to make you an offer."
Riven raised a brow. "Helix Corp doesn't make offers. It consumes."
Thalor chuckled softly. "You say that as if Nexus hasn't been doing the same. But the difference between us, Riven, is that I know when to merge power instead of fighting it."
He stepped closer, the air thickening subtly. Riven felt the faintest brush of Thalor's pheromones again—controlled this time, refined, like a silent flex of dominance.
"I want you," Thalor said plainly. "Leave Nexus. Join me at Helix Corp. Together, we could build something far beyond these walls. You don't belong to them—you were built for something greater."
Riven met his gaze without flinching. "You think I'd abandon my company because you say so?"
Thalor's smile didn't waver. "Not just because I say so. Because you'll soon have no company to lead."
Riven's jaw tightened. "Explain."
"Your brothers," Thalor said, circling the desk like a predator tracing a perimeter. "They've already aligned themselves—with Rowen and Veltrix Dynamics. Three corporate forces merging into one. Their goal? To dismantle Nexus from the inside out. Every contract, every alliance—already under quiet review."
Riven's silence was a sharp blade between them.
Thalor leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I could protect you from what's coming. But I don't protect for free."
Riven straightened slowly. "And what do you want in return?"
A pause. Then Thalor's eyes gleamed with something darker than greed—curiosity laced with desire. "Information."
"Information?"
"Yes." Thalor stepped closer until only a breath of distance separated them. His pheromones stirred again—cool and deliberate, like silk coiling around steel. "There's something peculiar about you, Riven Virellian. You're an S-Class Alpha… and yet, you carry a trace of something impossible."
Riven's heartbeat stuttered. "What are you implying?"
Thalor smiled—slow, knowing. "An Alpha who smells faintly like an Omega. Rare. Genetic anomaly, perhaps. Or maybe… something you're hiding."
Riven's composure cracked for half a second—just enough for Thalor to notice.
"Ah," Thalor murmured. "So it's true."
He turned his head slightly, inhaling the faint trail of Riven's natural scent that lingered in the air. "I wonder what Nexus would think if they knew their CEO's pheromone profile doesn't fit the Virellian mold."
Riven's eyes sharpened, his voice turning to steel. "Be careful what you insinuate."
Thalor only smiled. "I'm not insinuating, Riven. I'm offering—protection, partnership, and silence. You know what a secret like that could do in our world. You know how easily a whisper could become a weapon."
The silence between them deepened—charged, dangerous.
Finally, Riven spoke, his voice calm but edged. "You've made your point. Now listen to mine."
He stepped forward, letting his own pheromones roll out—quiet, stabilizing, yet forceful enough to clash subtly with Thalor's aura. The air vibrated faintly, a meeting of two S-Class frequencies.
"I don't yield to threats," Riven said softly. "And I don't join those who think dominance equals control. You came here to test me, to see if I'd break. But here's your answer—"
He met Thalor's eyes, unwavering. "I. Don't. Break."
Thalor's smirk returned, but this time it was smaller, tighter—something close to respect flickering beneath the arrogance.
"We'll see," he murmured, turning toward the door. "But remember, Riven—every secret has a scent. And every scent leaves a trail."
The door slid open, releasing a faint hiss of pressure as Thalor stepped out.
Riven exhaled slowly, only realizing then that his hands were clenched against the desk.
For a moment, his control wavered—not from fear, but from the silent truth he refused to admit.
An Alpha who smells like an Omega.
And somewhere deep inside, Riven knew—Thalor wasn't bluffing. He knew.