POV: Dante
The view from my office has always been a strategic advantage.
From here, I can see half of Nova Lyra, the rain sliding down the glass, and the lights trying to impose themselves on the gray sky. Today, however, I'm not looking at the city. I'm looking at my reflection in the glass, and behind it there's only one word circling where I don't want it to be:
Omega.
I smelled it in the lobby before I saw her name on the agenda. I confirmed it in the elevator. And yet, the part of me that makes a living doubting everything keeps trying to find another explanation.
There's a knock at the door.
"Come in," I say, before they knock a second time.
Sofía appears with a folder in her hand, the neutral expression she uses when she brings something she knows matters to me.
"As you requested, Mr. Noir," she says. "Miss Aurora Vega's file."
I take it.
"Anything I should know that isn't written here?" I ask.
She hesitates for a second. With Sofía, that means yes.
"It's an unusual profile to get this far," she admits. "Excellent academic performance, but no networks, no sponsors. Normally, that type of candidate stays in minor processes. Or nowhere."
"But not her," I reply.
"She received a scholarship from the internal foundation six months ago," she adds. "The committee approved it unanimously."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Who chaired that committee?" I ask, although I already imagine the answer.
Sofía looks down at the first page.
"You, sir."
Of course.
I remember the meeting: a table full of folders, a list of "emblematic cases" to improve our social image. A brilliant student with an uncomfortable history must have seemed like a good idea to me. I signed the document without knowing that I was inviting my omega into my building.
"Thank you, Sofia," I say. "That's all."
She leaves. I close the door and turn the key. I need silence.
I open the folder.
Full name. Date of birth. Address in a neighborhood the city would rather forget. Impeccable academic record. Outstanding grades in mathematics, statistics, economics. Low-paying part-time jobs, scholarships, debts.
Admission psychological report: "generalized anxiety in treatment, functional."
Nothing out of the ordinary. Fragile humans sustain themselves with willpower; I have always respected that more than the arrogance of certain alphas.
I move on to the family section.
Mother: human, no clan record. Father: "not present." No mention of lineage, pack, or even rumors. I know enough about the city's genealogies to know that this void is not accidental.
Some gaps are simple oversight. Others are intentional.
I look for what is not there: no medical exams beyond the minimum, no hormonal profile, no notes on strange reactions. On paper, she is just another intern analyst.
My body disagrees.
I close the folder. I dial a number I know by heart.
Sebastian answers on the second ring.
"Yes, Alpha."
"I need a discreet search," I say. "Name: Aurora Vega. I'll send you the details. I want you to check herd files, old records, everything that doesn't exist for humans. Leave no trace."
"Night clan too?" he asks, cautiously.
I think of Elías and his tendency to take too much interest in anything that deviates from the norm.
"Not for now," I reply. "Start with the packs. If there's anything, I want it first."
"Understood," he says.
I hang up.
I walk to the window and lower the blinds completely. I don't need to see the building's floor plan to know where each floor is.
Legal, finance, technology. And further down, risk analysis.
Her.
Aurora's scent stays with me as if she were a meter away. Ink and fear linger in the air, mixed with something that hasn't fully awakened yet, but will. Sooner or later, latent omegas cease to be latent.
My rational side does its job: young, no known clan, no education about what she is. Vulnerable. Easy to confuse, easy to hurt if someone decides she's useful for more than just numbers.
My alpha side gives a simpler answer: mine.
I ignore that voice.
The computer flashes with a new email. Andrade.
"Subject: First impressions – Vega."
I open it.
"Sir, the new analyst is now settled in. Quick, she's getting up to speed on the basics, asking pertinent questions. We'll see how she reacts to more sensitive projects."
Brief, measured. Andrade knows I hate adjectives, but they slip out anyway.
"More sensitive."
I don't need to say it: here, sensitive projects aren't just the ones that move the most money, but the ones that touch on places where humans and creatures mix without knowing it.
I close the email.
The logical solution would be to move her away. Leave her lost among old records and reports, far from anything that might attract the attention of people like Elías or rival clans.
The instinctive solution is to keep her close, where I can see it, where no one can approach it without me noticing.
Logic and instinct have been fighting in my head for years. Logic usually wins. Usually.
A different smell seeps under the door, interrupting my train of thought. It's not human. It's iron, night, and a very old patience.
Vampire.
"You're not in your tower," I murmur. "That rarely means anything good."
There's a knock at the door. This time I don't say "come in," but it opens anyway.
Elías enters with the ease of someone who knows he's invited even though no one has called him. Dark suit, easy smile, eyes that see everything and keep half of it to themselves.
"Dante," he greets me. How comforting to see you working so early. It makes me feel less obsessive.
His gaze sweeps across the office. It lingers for a fraction of a second on Aurora's folder on the desk. Not long enough for a human to notice. Too long for me.
"The air in your tower feels different today," he comments, as if talking about the weather. "Interesting. I didn't know you'd let something new in without telling me."
My jaw tenses slightly.
"The city changes every day," I reply. "And you should announce your visits."
He laughs softly.
"If I announced them, they wouldn't be as much fun," he replies. "Don't worry. I still don't know what it is. I just know it wasn't there yesterday. Something warm, young... confusing. It smells like promise. Or trouble."
He approaches the window and raises the blind slightly, as if the rain were going to answer him. The gray light filters in without touching his skin directly.
I, on the other hand, feel a silent alarm go off in the center of my chest.
If he notices it now, with the scent of Aurora barely settling in the building, others will too when he wakes up completely. And not everyone will be content to just watch.
I don't want some boring vampire snooping around my omega.
And the time I have to keep his attention away from her just got a lot shorter.
Too short.