After parting ways with her friends, Viona immediately called Ethan to inform him about the dinner party, asking him to prepare something special.
On one hand, she hated the idea of making him work so hard. But on the other, she was determined to show her friends that her Omega was the absolute best partner for her. She hadn't missed the underlying tension during lunch; her friends had seemed deeply unhappy about Ethan. What Viona didn't realize, however, was that Helena's disapproval stemmed from pure jealousy, and Mark was simply mirroring Helena's bitter mood.
While Viona returned to her desk to wrap up her workday, Ethan was back at the house, officially on a mission.
Make a good dinner!
The last thing he wanted was to embarrass his Alpha. Determined to succeed, he gathered his ingredients and threw himself into preparing a beautiful spread. Because it was an intimate gathering at home, Viona had specifically requested a comforting, home-style menu.
Fortunately, Ethan was naturally talented in the kitchen and incredibly efficient, so the request didn't intimidate him. Viona had mentioned that shrimp was her Omega friend's favorite, but she also requested a chicken dish since Mark was severely allergic to seafood. Understanding the gravity of a food allergy, Ethan was meticulous, handling the ingredients with extreme care to prevent any cross-contamination.
He started with the shrimp. Since the kitchen was already fully stocked, he didn't need to waste time running to the grocery store. He expertly boiled the shrimp and began whipping up a complementary sauce.
In truth, Ethan's official job at the restaurant was just as a waiter, and it wasn't even a high-end establishment. However, whenever the kitchen got hectic, the head chef would call Ethan over to help with prep work—washing dishes, peeling onions, and chopping vegetables. Recognizing Ethan's quiet dedication, the chef had eventually taken him under his wing, teaching him foundational cooking techniques and recipes just out of kindness.
Those impromptu lessons had paid off, molding Ethan into an Omega with truly impressive culinary skills.
Following the chef's old recipes, Ethan lost track of time and ended up creating a lavish feast. He prepared an array of colorful side dishes, fluffy rice, savory noodles, and fresh, warm buns. Stepping back to look at the vibrant table, a wave of pride washed over him. He snapped a photo of the spread and texted it to Viona.
By 6:00 PM, Viona was walking out to her car. When the photo popped up on her phone, the sight of the beautiful, mouth-watering dishes made her stomach instantly growl. She smiled to herself, utterly convinced that her friends were about to have their minds blown by her Omega's sheer talent.
After texting her new home address to Helena and Mark, Viona made the drive back. When she arrived, she rang the doorbell and waited eagerly for Ethan to greet her.
The door swung open, and Ethan welcomed her with a bright, radiant smile. But within a fraction of a second, his expression completely dropped.
Viona noticed the sudden shift immediately. Terrified that he was suddenly feeling ill, concern spiked through her. She stepped forward, reaching out to check on him.
But Ethan instinctively took a sharp step back. As Viona tried to close the distance, he continued to retreat into the foyer, his eyes downcast.
"What's wrong?" Viona asked, entirely bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"You smell like another Omega," Ethan whispered.
By nature, Omegas were prone to intense jealousy. Yet, in a world where Alphas held the systemic upper hand, many Omegas felt powerless to object if their partner chose to take multiple mates. In most households, smelling another Omega's pheromones on an Alpha would instantly spark a explosive, screaming argument.
But Ethan wasn't the type to fight. He was a person who habitually surrendered.
The foreign pheromones clinging to Viona were thick and suffocatingly strong; that Omega must have been pressed right against her. A dull, heavy ache bloomed in Ethan's chest.
Viona flinched, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. Helena.
Panic flared in Viona's chest. She needed to clear up the misunderstanding immediately; she couldn't bear the thought of any distance growing between them.
"It's just my friend! She's coming over for dinner tonight," Viona explained frantically, her voice desperate to reassure him. "I'm not close with any other Omega, Ethan. You're the only one for me, the closest person in my life. Please don't misunderstand. We just had lunch together today, the three of us. That's why the scent rubbed off on me. Don't be mad, okay? I promise I'll be much more careful in the future."
Viona desperately wanted to soothe his anxiety, but Ethan's heart had already sunk. The scent was far too concentrated to be accidental. In the ABO dynamic, an Omega only left their scent on an Alpha so heavily for one reason: to mark their territory and warn others away.
Have I perhaps inherited a love rival? Ethan thought quietly.
He realized, with a pang of guilt, that he had likely taken a place that Helena believed belonged to her, and now she was furious. But there was nothing he could do to undo the past.
Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Ethan barely registered Viona trying to step closer again. As the foreign Omega pheromones wafted off her clothes, a wave of revulsion hit him. He hated the smell. It wasn't just a physical reaction; it was a deeply sour feeling born from the aching suspicion that Viona might actually hold another Omega closer to her heart than him.
"I am not mad... and I won't be mad," Ethan said quietly, forcing his voice to remain flat.
If Viona truly wanted another Omega, Ethan had already decided he wouldn't stand in her way. He believed he had no right to monopolize her. In their world, Alphas could walk away whenever they pleased, but an Omega, once bonded, was tied to their partner for life. He was just trying to protect what was left of his pride.
Distressed by his lack of emotion, Viona exhaled a tense breath. "I'm going to take a quick shower then. They'll be here in about half an hour."
She practically ran to the bathroom, desperate to scrub every trace of Helena's pheromones off her skin. Yet, as the hot water washed over her, she couldn't stop worrying about Ethan's reaction. When he had first pointed out the scent, a secret, primal part of her had actually hoped he would throw a tantrum. She wanted him to yell, to demand answers, to display a flash of raw, aggressive possessiveness.
The truth was, Alphas secretly craved that kind of behavior. An Omega getting fiercely protective over their Alpha made them feel profoundly proud, wanted, and secure.
Alphas were naturally territorial creatures. If an Alpha caught even a faint trace of a rival's scent on their Omega, it would trigger a violent, protective instinct to fiercely claim their partner and erase the violation. Because Viona viewed Ethan entirely as hers, she would never tolerate another Alpha laying a finger on him.
It wounded her deeply that Ethan hadn't made a fuss. Instead, he had simply stepped away, his body language practically indifferent, as if telling her: I don't care. Do whatever you want.
That indifference stung. It felt like a glaring sign that he wasn't fully invested in her, and the quiet rejection lodged itself deep in Viona's heart—a bitter misunderstanding that would simmer between them for a long time before she finally found the courage to confront him about it.
...
The loud echo of the front doorbell shattered the tense silence of the house, followed by a loud, familiar voice.
"Hello? Anyone home? We're here!"
The guests had arrived.