Chapter 5: Ember

Chapter

Five

EMBER

I frantically wave my phone around, desperately seeking even a single bar of signal.

Come on, come on.

This can't be happening.

Not today.

Not when I've finally managed to land an interview with Axel magazine after months of pestering their editor.

I even missed family dinner for this phone call, and I’m still feeling guilty about that. I'd tried to explain how important this was, how it could open doors for my career, but Mom’s disappointed sigh still echoes in my ears.

And now? Now I might miss it anyway, trapped in this godforsaken ice rink with four alphas who seem hellbent on driving me insane.

Great. Just fucking great .

I manage to get enough of a signal to fire off a quick text to Taylor.

Stuck at rink. Power out. Doors frozen. FML.

Her response comes faster than I expected.

OMG, are you ok? Want me to send Matt with the neighbor's snow plow?

I snort, imagining myself clinging to the back of a snow plow for a five-mile ride through a blizzard.

Hell no. Only thing worse than being stuck here with those assholes is riding home on a snow plow.

Wait. That pack is still there?

I glance over at the four of them, huddled together and speaking in low voices. They keep shooting looks my way, probably annoyed that I'm hogging the only spot with a hint of cell service.

Unfortunately.

Worried?

Am I? I should be, shouldn't I? Four strange alphas, one omega, trapped in an isolated building during a snowstorm. It's like the setup for every bad horror movie ever made.

But...

Oddly, no. They're annoying af, but I don't think they're bad guys. Just dicks.

If you're sure. Try to stay in touch if you can. Love you.

I'm about to reply when I notice Adder—Thirteen, I remind myself—approaching. There's something off about his expression, a nervousness that seems at odds with his usual cocky demeanor.

"Hey," he says, running a hand through his hair. "So, looks like we're pretty stuck here. The guys are gathering some supplies, and we should probably stick close to the breakroom where it's warm?—"

I cut him off, a strange scent suddenly filling my nostrils. "Do you smell that?"

He blinks, thrown off guard. "Smell what?"

"It's like..." I inhale deeply, trying to place it. "Like someone just cracked open a bottle of vintage Crimson Mark bourbon and a pine air freshener. Like, a really good one."

Adder's eyebrows shoot up, amusement dancing in his eyes. " You drink Crimson Mark?"

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I retort, but I find myself moving closer, drawn by the intoxicating aroma.

It's stronger now, richer.

And it's definitely coming from him.

Oh god.

"Are you... smelling me?" Adder asks, a mix of bewilderment and something else— hope ?—in his voice.

"What? No, I—" But the denial dies on my lips as I realize with dawning horror that I am. I'm smelling an alpha. And not just any alpha. One that smells like the best thing I've ever encountered in my life.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit, shit, shit.

Panic rises in my chest, threatening to choke me. I can't deal with this. I can't even begin to process what this means. So I do the only thing I can think of.

I run.

"Ember, wait!" Adder calls after me, but I'm already sprinting toward the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears.

I slam the door behind me and lock it, pressing my back against the cool metal as if I could somehow barricade myself against the reality of what just happened. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps as I slide down to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

This can't be happening.

It just can't.

I don't have time for this.

I don't want this.

I've worked too hard, sacrificed too much to let some... some biological imperative derail everything now.

But even as I try to convince myself it's nothing, that delicious scent lingers in my nostrils, making my head spin and my body ache in ways I've never experienced before. It calls to something deep inside me, something primal and hungry that I've always denied existed.

A soft knock on the door makes me jump. "Ember?" Adder's voice, muffled but unmistakable. "Are you okay?"

I press my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe if I ignore him, ignore all of this, it'll go away. Maybe I'll wake up and realize this was all some bizarre stress-induced nightmare.

But the knocking persists, joined now by other voices.

Concerned.

Worried.

About me .

"Go away!" I shout, hating how my voice cracks. "Just... leave me alone!"

There's a pause, then a different voice—Carter, I think. I mean… Fifty-Seven. "We're not going to hurt you, Ember, or do anything you don't want. We just want to talk."

Talk? What is there to talk about? The fact that I just got hit by the scent of my potential mate— mates? Is it all of them? —like a freight train? The fact that my entire world has just been turned upside down in the span of a few minutes?

No. No, I can't do this.

I won't do this.

I've seen what happens when omegas let their biology dictate their lives. I refuse to be that person.

"Just go away," I call through the door, sinking down against the wall onto the floor. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to breathe. I'm in a public bathroom, and yet the scent of pine and bourbon lingering in my nostrils is enough to drown out the mildew and cheap fruit-scented bathroom spray.

What do the others smell like…?

I hate myself for wondering. For the dull ache not knowing the answer to that question sparks in the center of my chest.

I hear a heavy sigh through the door, but there's no pounding fists on the door, no attempts to break it down. Even though I'm sure that rusty little padlock wouldn't do shit if they really wanted to get in here.

"Alright," Fifty-Seven says, his voice heavy with resignation. "We'll be in the breakroom if you change your mind."

I wait until I hear their footsteps retreating before I fumble for my phone, desperate for a distraction, for any connection to the world outside this surreal bubble I've found myself trapped in. But of course, there's no signal in here. Just my reflection in the black screen, wide-eyed and pale.

What am I going to do? How long can I stay locked in here before I have to face them—face this—again?

And what happens when I do?

The scent lingers, a constant reminder of what's waiting for me on the other side of that door.

Four alphas.

My alphas?

The thought sends a shiver down my spine, equal parts terror and... something else.

Something I'm not ready to name.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. One problem at a time, Ember. First, figure out how to get out of this bathroom without having a complete meltdown. Then worry about the life-altering revelations.

But as I sit there, huddled on the cold tile floor, I can't shake the feeling that nothing will ever be the same again.