Page 117 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"The probability is extremely high," I confirmed, already pulling up everything we had on the pharmaceutical giant. "Meridian has been involved in Omega research for decades. Their primary revenue stream comes from hormone modulators and suppressants marketed specifically to Omegas."

"Drugs that keep Omegas dependent," Lucas translated, his voice hardening. "Maintaining the status quo."

"Precisely." I adjusted my glasses, analyzing the information systematically. "Dr. Thompson's research threatened that business model. If Omegas could biochemically resist Alpha influence without medication..."

"Meridian loses billions," Lucas finished, understanding dawning in his eyes. "And the other victims—successful, independent Omegas—they were symbols of what Meridian fears most."

"A world where Omegas don't need their products," I confirmed, running calculations on potential market impacts. "Meridian's stock value would decrease by approximately sixty-seven percent if Omega independence became the norm rather than the exception."

Lucas leaned against the desk, processing this information. "So they're eliminating the threats—researchers working on biological independence, successful Omegas who represent what others might achieve."

"And Vivian fits the profile perfectly," I said, my voice maintaining its analytical tone despite the protective instinct rising within me. "An independent Omega business owner, living without Alpha support, building success on her own terms."

"A symbol," Lucas said quietly, his usual lighthearted demeanor completely absent. "Just like the others."

I nodded, continuing to analyze the data. "The timing correlates with Dr. Thompson's research reaching a critical phase. According to her notes, she

was on the verge of a breakthrough that would have fundamentally altered Alpha-Omega dynamics. The biological shield she was developing would have rendered Alpha voice commands ineffective."

Lucas's expression darkened further. "And a pharmaceutical giant like Meridian couldn't allow that to happen."

"Their entire business model depends on maintaining traditional hierarchies," I confirmed, continuing to analyze the financial implications. "Dr. Thompson's research threatened not just their products but their ideological foundation."

My phone vibrated with another update from Gabriel: Third party confirmed. Private military contractor with Meridian connections. Board member implicated. Sending details.

I showed the message to Lucas, whose face hardened into something I rarely saw from him—cold, calculated anger beneath his usual playful exterior.

"So we have our connection," he said, his voice tight. "Now we just need to figure out which board member is behind it."

"Gabriel will get that information," I said with certainty, already typing a response requesting more specific details. "The interrogation techniques he employs are extremely effective, particularly with subjects who believe they have leverage."

A sound from the hallway drew our attention—a soft whimper, barely audible but distinct to our enhanced Alpha hearing. Lucas was on his feet immediately, moving toward Vivian's room with quiet urgency. I followed, my analytical mind already calculating probable causes: nightmare, pain response, or disorientation upon waking in an unfamiliar environment.

When we reached the doorway, the sight confirmed my assessment. Vivian was tangled in the sheets, her face contorted in distress as she moved restlessly in her sleep. The physiological signs of nightmare were evident—increased respiratory rate, muscle tension, small vocalizations indicating distress.

Lucas moved to her first, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. His hand hovered above her shoulder, hesitating. "Should we wake her?" he asked, looking back at me.

I analyzed the situation quickly, weighing the physiological benefits of uninterrupted sleep against the psychological distress of the nightmare, “No. That could make it worse. Just sooth her and we can lay with her hoping our presence will be enough.”

Lucas nodded, moving with careful gentleness as he settled beside Vivian on the bed. His hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder, not enough to wake her but providing a point of contact, of security. I watched as he began to emit calming pheromones—a subtle Alpha technique designed to soothe without dominating.

"Hey, flower girl," he murmured, his voice pitched low and gentle. "You're safe. We're right here."

I calculated the optimal position to provide additional security without crowding her, then moved to the other side of the bed. With precise movements, I lowered myself onto the mattress, maintaining enough distance to avoid startling her while still providing a protective presence. Together, we created a buffer of safety around her—Lucas with his instinctive warmth, me with my steady, analytical presence.

Vivian's distress began to ease, her breathing evening out as she curled into Lucas. Gradually, her muscles relaxed, the tension easing from her body as our combined presence provided the security her subconscious sought.

I observed the subtle physiological changes—decreased heart rate, normalized breathing patterns, relaxation of facial muscles—all indicating a transition from distressed sleep to more restful states. Lucas continued murmuring soft reassurances, his usual playfulness replaced by a protective gentleness that was equally effective in its own way.

"She's responding well to your vocal patterns," I noted quietly, keeping my analytical observations to a minimum volume to avoid disturbing her. "The familiarity appears to be overriding the stress response."

Lucas nodded, his hand moving in gentle circles on Vivian's shoulder. "Sometimes being annoying has its advantages," he whispered with a ghost of his usual humor. "She's probably used to tuning me out by now."

I didn't point out the statistical improbability of his self-deprecating assessment, recognizing it as a coping mechanism in a high-stress situation. Instead, I continued monitoring Vivian's vital signs, noting with satisfaction that they were stabilizing into normal sleep patterns.

"Gabriel should arrive in approximately twenty-seven minutes," I said softly, checking the time with precise movements to avoid disturbing Vivian. "He'll want a full briefing on her condition."

Lucas nodded, his eyes not leaving Vivian's face. "She's stronger than she looks," he observed, a note of pride in his voice. "Most people would be completely falling apart after what happened tonight."

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