Page 106 of The Sterling Acquisition
Orion settled into his chair, automatically cataloging exit routes and potential threats even though his body felt more relaxed than it had in months. Beside him, Dante did the same, their movements synchronized in a way that should have been concerning.
“Actually,” Tallulah said, her gaze shifting between them with newfound interest, “I think it might be better if I spoke with you separately. Orion first—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than Orion intended, startling even himself. The thought of being separated from Dante, even temporarily, sent something close to panic shooting through his chest. “We stay together.”
Tallulah’s eyebrows rose, but before she could respond, Lilac leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Whatever she said made the older woman’s expression shift from surprise to amusement, then to something that might have been concern.
“Never mind,” Tallulah said slowly, settling back in her chair. “You stay together. For everyone’s safety.”
The phrasing was odd, but Orion was too relieved to question it. The panic that had spiked at the thought of separation was already fading, leaving him feeling embarrassed by the intensity of his reaction.
“Now then,” Tallulah continued, her tone taking on a gravity that made Orion’s attention sharpen. “What do you two know about the Adjustment? The real history, not the corporate sanitized version.”
Orion frowned. “Syn-V-7, it was a virus disguised as a vaccine. Gensyn released it seventy years ago and created the designation system we have now. Why?”
“And what do you know about bonding? About how Alphas and Omegas pair?”
“Gensyn uses bio-marker synchronization,” Dante interjected, slipping into that annoying corporate cadence. “Pharmaceutical interventions to align pheromone signatures and establish claiming bonds. SVI prefers public submission displays and physical branding to declare ownership. Both systems require documentation and corporate oversight.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Orion asked, feeling a little confused.
“Everything,” Tallulah said. “It has to do with everything. Because what the corporations don’t want you to know—what they’ve spent seventy years making sure nobody knows—is that they didn’t create the designation system. They perverted it.”
“Like with Project Tether?”
“Still thinking too much like them companies,” she shook her head.
Orion felt a chill run down his spine. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the Primal Triad,” Tallulah said, and something in her voice made the words feel like an incantation. “The real bonding process. The one that happens outside corporate control, outside their understanding. The one that makes everything they’ve built irrelevant.”
She maneuvered her wheelchair closer, studying them both with sharp eyes. “But before we get into all that academic nonsense, I need to see something. Dante, tilt your head. Let me see your neck.”
Orion felt Dante go still beside him. “What?”
“Your neck,” Tallulah repeated patiently, like she was talking to a particularly slow child. “Lilac mentioned you had some interesting... markings. I want to see for myself.”
Dante’s hand moved to cover the bite mark, and Tallulah’s eyes lit up with delight.
“Oh, don’t be shy now, corporate boy. After everything you two have been through, you’re gonna get modest about a little love bite?”
Heat flooded Orion’s face as he realized what she was asking for. “That’s not—we don’t—”
“Humor an old woman,” Tallulah said, though it wasn’t really a request.
Dante glanced at Orion, something unreadable in his expression, then slowly moved his hand away and tilted his head to expose the mark Orion had left on his neck.
Tallulah leaned forward in her wheelchair, examining the bite with the focused attention of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for. After a moment, she sat back and let out a laugh that was equal parts amused and amazed.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said, shaking her head. “Lilac was right. You two really did it.”
“Did what?” Orion demanded, embarrassment quickly giving way to irritation at being kept in the dark.
“Completed the Primal Triad,” Tallulah said simply. “Something that hasn’t happened in... oh, last I heard, probably forty years or so. Something the corporations have been trying to prevent since the day they figured out what the virus did to us.”
She maneuvered her wheelchair to a cabinet behind her desk, withdrawing what looked like an old journal, its pages yellowed with age. “See, boys, what they don’t teach you in corporate school is that Syn-V-7 didn’t create the designation system. It activated somethingthat was already there. Something old. Something that had its own rules about how Alphas and Omegas were supposed to bond.”
Her finger traced over the yellowed pages as she settled the journal on her lap. “Rules that put the real power in the Omega’s hands, not the Alpha’s. Rules that made corporate ownership impossible because you can’t own someone who owns you right back.”
