Chapter 7

"Someone is stealing from me,” Victor repeats, hands balled into fists. Ariadne looks worried. The Omega takes a step back. Her bright, blue eyes are suddenly filled with alarm, almost banking on fear. Victor bites at the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood.

Not here. This is not the place nor the time. Ariadne is still present. Victor must hold back the blackness that’s eating him on the inside. He doesn’t want to frighten Ariadne away.

“Let’s go home, yeah,” Victor finally says, taking the stairs through the basement and out the back. Ariadne follows behind, several paces. It’s further than Victor would like, different from their normal dynamic.

Once seated in the car, Victor makes a call, explaining the situation to Waylon.

“I want you to look over all the ledgers tonight, all of them,” Victor spits into the phone. “Don’t even think about sleeping. You and Calvin are going to fix this mess, understood?”

“Of course, Boss,” Waylon answers dutifully.

They should have been looking at the books all along. Now Alpha Victor is looking like a fool in someone’s eyes. The only solace is that it won’t be for long. Alpha Victor is ready to break some fingers.

Ariadne drives down the street, soft rain patters against the windshield, periodically being cleaned by the wipers. It’s relaxing. The Omega is still Denning, filling up Victor’s car with muddled mint. The Alpha loves it. As concerning as it is, he’s starting to crave it. Just the hint of it makes him that much more comfortable.

Victor starts dinner, rage cooking helps him cope. He dons his apron, ties his hair into a not-quite ponytail, and starts furiously peeling and slicing potatoes. The Alpha can hear Ariadne restlessly wandering the house. It’s normal. It’s part of the Denning. Pretty soon, the whole house will smell like the Omega. Victor’s giddy at the prospect.

Ariadne shuffles into the kitchen dressed in something oversized and cottony. She pauses at the doorway. A look of utter shock crosses her features. Victor looks up briefly before flickering back to the chopping board.

Ariadne’s hovering.

“What?” Victor manages. He already knows what. He looks nothing like an Alpha should. He has a tie in his hair, a frilly, polka dot apron on. He’s cubing carrots like a star chef.

“Can I help?” Ariadne finally asks. “I’m sorry I’m so useless. I just can’t stand still.”

“Finish chopping this,” Victor decides. “I’ll start browning the lamb chops.”

Even in this modern-day, four out of five wolves still prefer lamb to almost any other meat. Ariadne hums happily, taking the knife from Victor’s hand. Just briefly their fingers graze over one another.

The moment is electric, shooting up Victor’s arm. The Alpha tries to ignore it, but even after, the sensation still ghosts over his brain.

He starts frying up the chops, letting the heat char up the sides to busy himself. It’s mechanical though.

All Victor can focus on is Ariadne now, how she smells, how she looks all sweaty and flushed. It is hard to believe that magnetism is one-sided, especially with the Omega’s reaction. Does she feel it too?

“I’m done,” Ariadne eventually says, moving her head from side to side, cracking her neck, “What else can I do?”

“Grab me a baking pan from the shelf,” Victor says quickly. Ariadne does so, placing it on the counter. Victor greases it up, puts the two chops on it, and then layers on the potatoes and carrots. With a flick of his wrist, he preheats the oven.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” Ariadne comments.

Victor sprinkles a generous amount of salt, lemon pepper, and thyme on the baking pan. Then he slides the thing into the oven, before setting a timer.

“It’ll be done in twenty-five minutes,” Victor says, taking his hair tie off, and his apron too.

“You’re an interesting person,” Ariadne notes, making her exit, but turning back to see if Victor is following. He is.

Ariadne settles on the couch, absentmindedly rubbing one of the cushions against her glands. “You’re really nothing like any Alpha I’ve ever met.”

Victor sits on the opposite side, “I’m exactly like every Alpha you’ve met, only better.”

Ariadne smiles at that, eyes going soft. But then suddenly, she catches herself. Her face goes straight. She turns pink and she quickly puts the couch cushion down. “Sorry, I can’t help it. It must stink in here. I’ll open some windows.”

Victor shakes his head, “I like it. You have a really nice scent.”

Ariadne looks blank for a whole minute before she turns a deep red. “W-What?”

“It’s like mint, but also sweet like vanilla,” Victor offers. “That’s what you smell like. It’s almost like a drug.”

The Omega looks confused. “So, I don’t smell bad?”

“Who told you that?” Victor is curious, “I guess everyone has their preferences.”

Ariadne lowers her gaze to the floor, the deep red flush, not lightening one bit, “Victor?”

“Hmm.” The Alpha's so relaxed. He lays his head back on the couch and stares up at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” Ariadne says, softly. Victor shoots up to look at her, to make sure he didn’t imagine it. The Omega is looks mortified. “Thank you for saving me that night. I was- I was in a bad place.”

Victor can’t speak properly for a moment. He just looks at Ariadne, drinking in the woman’s beauty. The Alpha in him is compelled to speak the truth. “I don’t know why I saved you. I’m not a good man. I’ve left plenty of people to die in the gutter. As many as I let die, I’ve killed even more.”

Ariadne studies him, blue eyes lighting up with consideration. “I know what you are. But still, thank you, okay.”

Before anything else can be said, a timer buzzes. The food is ready. Victor lingers a bit before heading to the kitchen. He pulls out the chops, which are juicy and crisp. He plates it while Ariadne carries the wine to the dining table, vintage and red.

The two eat quietly. Victor remembers that he had a set of keys for Ariadne made earlier in the day. He checks the drawer to see if it’s there. It is. There are two keys and one fob. The fob is for the gate, the keys are for the front and back door. There’s also a little golden keychain with Ariadne’s name etched into it.

“Before I forget,” Victor says, tossing the thing to the Omega, who drops a fork in order to catch it, “I had these made for you.”

Ariadne studies them for a long, long time. “You’re giving me house keys?”

“I don’t want to keep you if you don’t want to be here,” Victor says, sounding so noble.

That’s a lie. If Ariadne doesn’t come back, Victor will personally stalk her down and bring her back. But it’s a sweet lie. He hopes it will make the Omega happy for the time being.

Ariadne looks up, tears in her eyes. “Stop.”

That is not what Victor is expecting.

The Omega looks utterly shaken. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing what?” Victor cocks his head.

Ariadne looks so conflicted. There’s a pain in her eyes and along with the curl of her mouth. She slams her fist on the table. “Stop playing with me.”

Before Victor can respond, Ariadne is running up the stairs. The Alpha hears a door slam above him. This has somehow taken a turn for the worst. Alpha Victor is at a loss for words. It takes him two minutes to shake himself out of his stupor before he follows after Ariadne.

The Omega has locked herself in the guest room. “Leave me alone!”

Victor feels like a d*ck but he fishes out the skeleton key and opens the door. Ariadne is curled up into the corner of the bed. Her eyes are red-rimmed, “Get out.”

“Explain to me what’s happening,” Victor asks. “It’s just a house key.”

“Just stop it all,” Ariadne hisses, frustratedly. “Stop doing all of it.”

“I don’t understand,” Victor says honestly.

“Stop looking at me like that!” Ariadne tosses the house keys at him. “Like I matter. And making me feel like this. Why? Do you think that it doesn’t hurt me when you throw me away? When you get bored of me?”

Victor has no intention of harming Ariadne in any way. But all the same, he feels terrible.

Ariadne is sobbing into her hands, unable to take complete breaths, “I’m a person. I’m not a fucking toy.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor whispers. “Tell me what I can do to make this better.”

Ariadne hurls a pillow at him. She’s furious, red-faced, and her scent is so fucking intoxicating, Victor can’t think straight. It’s an Omega in distress, his Omega. It has the Alpha calm and focused, completely mesmerized.

Victor's running on instinct and adrenaline. He closes in on Ariadne, extending his hand. Things like this are obsolete in a modern wolf’s life. There should be nothing that can’t be solved with words. Why can’t they just use words?

It’s the Old Way.

Victor's not even sure he can do it anymore. He hasn’t since he was a child before social norms bred it out of him. Alpha Victor clears his throat, testing his voice, then he howls, low and calm. Howls are not like Alpha or Omega calls. Howls are available to everyone, and they only serve one purpose.

To find the way home.