The omega gift

Chapter 3

Ronan couldn’t help the grin tugging at his mouth as he and Silas watched the curvy little human all but sprint down the hallway toward the opposite end of the floor. Her heels clicked unevenly against the polished wood, her flustered breaths echoing faintly.

Her scent lingered behind her like a trail of forbidden temptation warm vanilla, nervous adrenaline, a hint of desire she probably thought she masked beneath perfume. But shifter senses were merciless.

“She’s adorable,” Silas murmured, voice a low velvet hum.

Ronan let out a chest-deep sound that wasn’t quite a growl but close. “Cute,” he agreed. “And brave for stepping into an elevator with two strangers built like monsters.”

“She noticed you first,” Silas teased quietly.

Ronan shrugged, though the corner of his lip kicked up. He’d felt her gaze scrape over himstaring at his boots, traveling up the length of his legs, then halting… boldly… between his thighs. If she hadn’t looked away when she did, he might’ve purred at her.

But what truly caught him off guard was how his wolf reacted. The creature lifted its head the moment Lena stepped in, ears pointed, breath stilled. I'm interested. Alert. Hungry.

And Silas’s reaction had mirrored hisbody tightening, pupils darkening, breath catching.

Something about her hit both of them.

Hard.

A problem for later. Maybe.

Right now, they stood outside Calliope’s door, where warm light spilled from beneath it and the savory scent of roasted herbs drifted through the crack.

Ronan didn’t knock. Calliope heard everything anyway.

Sure enough, the door flew open before his fist lifted.

“There you are, you giants,” Calliope said, hands on her small hips. “Get in here before the stew burns.”

Ronan bent down to kiss her cheek because if he didn’t, she’d thump him with the wooden spoon hanging from her apron. “Evening, Aunt Callie.”

She swatted him anyway. “That’s for making me wait.”

Silas leaned down for his own greeting, and Calliope cupped his cheeks affectionately. “My beautiful boy,” she crooned, patting his face. “Come eat before you both waste away.”

They stepped inside her apartmenta warm, golden-lit haven cluttered with books, crystals, antique furniture, and enough baked goods to feed the entire Emberfall Pack. A platter of fresh bread still steamed on the counter. The kitchen smelled like rosemary, slow-cooked meat, and magic.

Calliope bustled toward the dining table. “Sit. No dessert until I see actual plates cleaned.”

Ronan exchanged a look with Silas. They could have been crowned kings of the whole supernatural realm, but Calliope would still bully them into eating their vegetables.

They sat. Plates clattered. A pitcher of water was set before them with the force of a mini earthquake.

“So,” Calliope said, settling across from them and folding her arms. “Talk.”

The air thickened. Ronan’s jaw tightened. Silas set down his napkin gently, though his expression dimmed.

The mate searched.

Again.

Silas beat him to it. “No progress.”

Calliope clicked her tongue in irritation. “What do you mean no progress? You two met half the eligible women in the Northern Territories.”

“And none of them felt right,” Silas said softly. “Not for a triad bond.”

Ronan grunted in agreement. “They were either intimidated or trying to impress. Neither works.”

Calliope’s gaze sharpened. “Your mate isn’t meant to worship you. She’s meant to challenge you.”

“Exactly,” Silas said. “A woman who can understand both sides of us. Strong enough for Ronan. Deep enough for me.”

“And gorgeous would help,” Ronan added under his breath.

Silas elbowed him, though he didn’t disagree.

Calliope snorted. “Yes, yes, she must be beautiful as the moon and smell of fresh pastries. I hear it every time you two speak.”

Ronan lifted a brow. “You’re the one who said a triad’s mate must appeal to wolf and man.”

Calliope waved him off. “I said it was compatible. Not centerfold material.”

Silas smiled. “This from the woman who tried to set us up with a model last month?”

“I liked her confidence!” Calliope retorted. “Her spirit was the size of her hair! But noooo… neither of you were ‘sparked.’” She jabbed her spoon toward Ronan. “Especially you, Mr. Grumpy.”

Ronan pierced a piece of roasted potato with unnecessary force. “She was too… loud.”

“Everyone is loud to you,” Calliope mumbled.

Ronan let it pass.

Silas cleared his throat. “We still want your help.”

Calliope paused.

Slowly, her expression shiftedless irritation, more curiosity. “Oh?”

“We need guidance,” Silas said carefully. “Someone who understands us. Someone who senses what we can’t.”

Ronan nodded. “Find us the right woman, Callie.”

Calliope tapped her nails on the table thoughtfully. “And you’ll trust my matchmaking instincts?”

“We’ll try,” Ronan said.

“We’ll follow them,” Silas corrected.

Calliope’s eyes glittered. “Good boys.”

Ronan groaned.

Silas smiled patiently.

Calliope stood and shuffled toward a small drawer near the bookshelf, muttering to herself. “Let me fetch the questionnaire. You will answer every question honestly. No growling. No editing. No pretending you’re easygoing, Ronan.”

“I don’t pretend,” Ronan muttered.

“Exactly the problem,” Calliope said.

Silas laughed into his water glass.

Then Ronan felt it again.

Lena’s scent.

Lingering faintly in the hallway. Fresh. Soft. Wild beneath the nervousness.

Calliope returned holding a thick purple binder. She paused halfway to the table, nostrils flaring.

Then she smiled slyly. “Ah. So you’ve met my neighbor.”

Silas straightened. “Her?”

Ronan tried and failed not to react. “She lives across the hall from you?”

Calliope tilted her head, pleased and smug. “Mmm. Lena Marlowe. Sweet girl. Strong energy. A wolf heart she hasn’t discovered yet.”

Silas’s eyes widened. “She’s latent?”

“Maybe,” Calliope said, far too casually. “Or maybe she’s something rarer.”

Ronan’s pulse jumped. Heat slid down his spine. His wolf rose again, attentive.

Calliope watched them like a cat watching mice. “Both of you felt it, didn’t you?”

Silas swallowed. “Something.”

Ronan grunted. “Everything.”

Calliope closed the binder with a decisive snap. “Good.”

“Good?” Ronan echoed.

Calliope smirked. “Because tomorrow, she’s coming over for tea.”

Silas blinked. “And?”

Calliope’s smugness turned radiant.

“And you two are joining us.”