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I nearly drop my donut. "Aiden from packaging? Quiet Aiden who apologizes to someone’s shadow when he steps on it?"

"That's the one."

"Good for him." And I mean it. Aiden is the sweetest man alive and so shy he practically dissolves if you make eye contact in the break room. The idea of him with people who love him makes something warm settle in my chest. "Do they have an omega?"

"Not yet." Lark breaks off a piece of donut. "But he's hopeful. I’m going to suggest they submit to the DNA database once Graham and Finn’s research goes live."

Right. The scent-match thing. It's still strange to hear it talked about like a product launch when I've watched Finn hunched over his laptop, muttering to himself about DNA markers. My smart professor, who kisses my cheek like I'm made of spun glass and hovers every single time I stand up, convinced I'm going to split myself open reaching for a coffee mug. The thought of his work helping someone like Aiden find his omega makes my heart beat in a stupid little rhythm.

I clear my throat. "What's going on with Lucy? She's been a ghost."

Lark's face shifts. "No one's talked to her, really. Silas is about to lose his mind over it. She told everyone she's staying with a friend while the whole situation with your"—she waves her donut—"person gets handled. Her parents didn't want her in the apartment with everything going on."

I smile at her avoidance of the word stalker. "Yeah, she told me the same. Staying with friends."

"Right, but here's the thing." Lark leans in. "She won't tell anyone who the friends are. Or where they live. And she turned off the GPS on her phone. Daniel is losing his mind."

I picture Daniel. Lucy's talked about him enough that I feel like I know him, mostly by the fact that she calls him Daniel and not Dad, or anything close to it. The man increased the security on her apartment three times in under a year. I can only imagine what his face looks like right now.

Good for you, Lucy, I think. Twenty-four years old and finally telling the overprotective men in your life to pound sand. About time. Out loud, I go with, "I hope it's a guy. A big, burly alpha guy with a giant knot."

Lark chokes on her coffee. "Oh my god. Do not say that in front of Silas."

"I'm just saying. Our girl might be living her best life."

"She's his baby sister." Lark's still laughing, wiping her eyes. "He will combust. Please."

We're both giggling now, and it feels so good, this, her, the sugar and the caffeine and the ridiculousness, that I almost forget I've spent the last three weeks getting stitched back together.

Lark catches her breath and nods at the laptops. "We should probably do some actual work."

"Ugh. Probably." I pull up the report for an omega sunblock. “OmegaShield testing results came in yesterday. The testing group loved the new formula. Fewer chemicals, way gentler on sensitive skin, and the fragrance is super light. Basically it’s a soft, clean warmth that doesn’t fight with natural omega scents.”

Lark leans in, eyes lighting up. “And the numbers?”

“Satisfaction on scent and sun protection are all above ninety percent. Feel was lower. Some of our testing group said it’s too greasy. Others disagreed. I spoke with their company’s rep yesterday and she’s stoked to put it in our June shipment.”

Lark sits back, shaking her head with a grin. “I can’t believe you caught up on all of this so quickly. You just had surgery three weeks ago.”

I roll my eyes and reach for my coffee. “It’s not a big deal. I couldn’t sleep all the time. In reality I was only working an hour or two a day, catching up with Jazz.”

Lark gives me a knowing look. “Jasmine has been doing great while you’ve been gone. I think you should give her more responsibility when you come back full-time. She can handle it. You don’t have to do everything yourself anymore.” She pauses, then adds with a little smirk, “Besides… now you have your alphas.”

I take a slow sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle in my chest. “I’m not 100% certain that I do have my alphas, though,” I say quietly.

Lark stares at me like I grew a second head. “What are you talking about? I’ve seen how they are with you.”

I set my mug down. “Piers and Beck are easy. They’re my scent matches. That pull is biological. Finn… I think he’s on board. He seems like he wants me here. He never says it outright, but he shows it in a hundred little ways.”

Lark tilts her head. “So what’s the problem?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my god, Lark. You're brilliant and I love you but sometimes.” I don’t even bother to acknowledge when she flips her middle finger up. “It’s Leith... obviously.”

“What has he done to make you think he’s not on board?” she asks with sincerity.

“That’s the thing,” I say, leaning back. “It’s more like what he hasn’t done. He’s obsessed with finding the stalker, sure. But he’s not the one holding my hand when I wake up. He’s not the one sneaking into my room to snuggle when I’m resting. He barely even talks to me. Meanwhile the other three can’t seem to get enough.”

Lark’s eyebrows rise. “The other three do that?”