Page 4 of Naga's Mate

Intriguing. And potentially valuable.

I follow the molecular trail through the labyrinthine pathways, my powerful form sliding between towering specimens with predatory silence. The elevated humidity intensifies the omega's signature despite chemical masking. Each sampling brings sharper clarity—the unmistakable sweetness of approaching fertility, the unique biochemical profile of a specific individual, artificial compounds attempting to suppress biological imperatives.

Illegal suppressants. A significant violation of Conquest law. One typically resulting in immediate transfer to breeding facilities.

Through a gap in densely modified ferns, I glimpse my quarry—a slender figure moving with unexpected competence among toxic specimens. Her movements display scientific precision alongside the growing instability of someone battling rising heat symptoms. Copper-red strands escape from beneath a dark cap, features partially obscured while body language reveals trained intelligence.

Not an ordinary omega, then. Someone with specialized knowledge. Someone with value beyond reproductive capacity.

I maneuver through peripheral routes, using the complex architectural layout to observe from multiple vantage points without revealing my presence. I could terminate this hunt immediately, but her methodical specimen collection fascinates me. She harvests with evident expertise, handling toxic variants that would prove lethal within moments of improper contact. Her hands move with scientific confidence despite subtle tremors I detect—early heat symptoms fighting through chemical suppression.

Most remarkable is her navigation of security protocols. She avoids surveillance angles with practiced precision, times her movements between sensor sweeps, utilizes plant masses to disrupt thermal detection. This omega hasn't accidentally discovered restricted areas—she's been exploiting these vulnerabilities systematically, perhaps for years, without detection.

Such intelligence warrants recognition. Such specialized knowledge deserves preservation.

When she pauses beside a rare blue orchid variant—one of our most closely guarded specimens—her movements become increasingly precise. She extracts samples with clinical efficiency, measuring exact portions before securing them in specialized containers. Her purpose crystallizes immediately: harvesting key components for synthesizing suppressants. Utilizing our botanical treasures against their intended purpose, to conceal her true designation.

The transgression merits severe consequences. The ingenuity demands acknowledgment.

My decision forms with predatory clarity. This omega will not be processed through conventional channels. Will not be consigned to a breeding center where her intellectual capacity would be squandered while her reproductive function served its purpose. No—this rare confluence of omega biology and scientific acumen belongs under specialized arrangement.

With me.

I observe her completing her collection, noting increasing difficulty maintaining physical stability. Another wave of heat symptoms, stronger than previous manifestations. The suppressants are deteriorating faster than her calculations anticipated. Soon, her biochemical signature will be unmistakable to any naga in proximity, not merely one with my specialized training in molecular detection.

She begins retreating along a meticulously planned route, still unaware of my presence tracking her every movement. Each step reveals deeper understanding of facility operations—utilizing maintenance corridors, anticipating guard rotations, exploiting ventilation patterns to minimize scent dispersion.

This unregistered omega has constructed an elaborate survival framework within our territory. Impressive. Ultimately futile, but impressive nonetheless.

I maintain optimal hunting distance, allowing the illusion of escape while analyzing her methodologies. Better to comprehend her full capabilities before initiating the claim. Knowledge that will prove advantageous once she serves under my direct authority.

My tongue extends once more, detecting a sudden shift in her biochemical profile. The suppressants are failing more rapidly now, her body's natural omega responses accelerating in proximity to alpha pheromones, even those not consciously perceived. Biological imperatives asserting dominance over chemical interference. Natural design overwhelming scientific intervention, as evolutionary law dictates.

Perfect timing. By the time I complete her claiming, she'll enter full heat—responsive despite whatever mental resistance she attempts. Her physiology will recognize what her consciousness still rejects, accepting my dominance as nature intended.

Through dense vegetation, I observe her hesitate at an intersection, verifying security positions. Her hand rises instinctively to her throat—characteristic omega gesture when heat symptoms intensify. Fighting instinct with conscious control. The motion confirms my assessment: suppressant failure approaches critical threshold. Soon, no chemical barrier will separate her true nature from my claim.

I permit her to advance fifty meters further, tracking with predatory patience. Let her believe escape remains possible momentarily. The hunt's conclusion remains inevitable, but these final observations provide valuable insight into her methods.

My decision solidifies. This omega will not be dispatched to a breeding facility. Her expertise with botanical compounds combined with her evident intelligence makes her too valuable for standard reproductive assignments. I will claim her myself—maintain her research capabilities under my direct supervision while ensuring her omega biology fulfills its evolutionary purpose.

The optimal solution. Advantageous for the Serpent Dominion's scientific objectives. Satisfying for my personal interests.

I prepare to strike, muscles coiling with controlled power. This hunt concludes now, on my terms. The unregistered omega has demonstrated sufficient expertise to confirm her value. Time to claim what conquest law has already determined belongs to me.

Time to introduce Dr. Lyra Wilson to her authentic nature, and to her new reality.

CHAPTER3

CAUGHT IN THE COILS

Something is wrong.Terribly, catastrophically wrong.

Heat erupts across my skin like wildfire, a sensation so alien after years of chemical suppression that it momentarily paralyzes my thoughts. My careful calculations, my precise formulations—disintegrating in an instant. The suppressants shouldn't be deteriorating this rapidly.

"The pollens," I whisper, realization dawning as I scan the experimental zone surrounding me.

Of course. The modifiedNymphaea luminavariants being cultivated for enhanced cross-pollination. Their specialized pollen engineered to neutralize chemical barriers between species—evidently including the barriers I've meticulously constructed within my own biochemistry.

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