The resonance chamber hummed around me the moment the door closed.
A low, vibrating thrum—
not loud, not aggressive,
just constant, like a distant heartbeat inside the walls.
Cold air wrapped around my skin.
My breath floated in front of me in faint wisps.
It wasn't freezing, but the temperature was deliberately low.
Lucian said that lower temperature kept pheromone diffusion "clean" during a test.
To me, it just felt like the chill before danger.
The chamber itself was circular, metal-lined, with faint concentric rings along the floor.
Each ring pulsed with soft blue light—
the color deepened and brightened as the system calibrated to my presence.
The machine was reading me.
Me, alone.
My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to stand still.
No trembling.
No shifting.
No fear Hale could point to.
Just breath.
Just standing.
Just me.
HORACE AND ROWAN ENTER THE OBSERVATION BOOTH
A side door hissed open.
Not the main chamber door—
but a narrow slit of reinforced glass marked Authorized Observers Only.
Horace stepped through first.
He wasn't wearing combat armor, but the intensity in his eyes made him look armed.
Rowan followed slowly.
His hands shook, but his chin lifted.
They stood behind the thick pane of glass—
close enough that I could see every shift in their expressions.
Horace pressed his palm against the glass once.
I mirrored the motion.
His breathing steadied.
Rowan pressed his palm next.
Mine rose slightly to meet his too.
He exhaled shakily, a small, unsteady smile flickering over his lips.
Lucian appeared beside them, adjusting the console.
Chandler remained outside the booth, glaring at Hale and the guards like he was ready to drag us all out if he had to.
Hale took position at the main control panel.
He tapped a few keys.
Lights changed.
Sound descended.
And the deep, pulsing hum of the chamber intensified.
A voice clicked through the speaker system overhead:
"Resonance test initiating.
Subject: Elleanore Fonze.
Parameters: Omega-level stability.
Alpha observers: Frinton, Vale."
Rowan's cheeks flushed at hearing his last name spoken in the same category as Horace's.
Horace didn't blink.
His eyes never left me.
THE FIRST PULSE
The floor rings brightened.
A wave of soft blue light expanded outward from the center, washing over my legs.
It didn't hurt.
It didn't even sting.
But it felt like something inside me was being… called to attention.
My heartbeat quickened.
Not painfully.
Just enough that I felt the rhythm in my fingertips.
Rowan grabbed the railing.
Horace leaned forward.
Lucian murmured into the mic:
"Elleanore, breathe normally."
I did.
Carefully.
Slowly.
The light dimmed again.
A second pulse followed—
stronger.
Like the echo of my own breath hitting me from the outside.
Rowan's voice trembled through the speaker.
"Elle… you okay?"
I nodded slightly.
The system registered the motion—blue lines flickered rapidly.
Hale's voice came over the speaker:
"Readings normal. Proceed to Stage Two."
Lucian's head whipped toward him.
"No—
we haven't finished Stage One—"
Hale ignored him.
He tapped the panel.
A deeper hum filled the chamber.
Horace stiffened.
"No," he said sharply into the mic.
"You move too fast and she'll overload—"
Hale cut the booth mic.
I could still see Horace's mouth moving, Rowan grabbing him, Lucian cursing—
but I couldn't hear their voices.
A chill rushed through my spine.
Hale turned to the glass wall and gave a slow, satisfied smile.
Then he turned up the resonance field.
THE REAL TEST BEGINS
The light darkened.
From soft blue—
to deep azure.
A frequency shift hit my chest.
Not painful.
Not overwhelming.
But sharp.
Like my body recognized something.
Or like something inside the chamber recognized me.
The rings on the floor pulsed faster, syncing with my heartbeat.
Rowan pressed his hands against the glass.
"Turn the mic back on—turn it on—"
Horace slammed a fist against the inner window.
Lucian grabbed the control panel in the observer booth, teeth clenched.
Hale remained calm.
"Her baseline is higher than I expected."
He turned another dial.
The entire chamber buzzed.
My breath hitched—
and the light flared.
For a moment—
I wasn't cold anymore.
Heat spread from behind my sternum, slow and syrupy.
Not heat-shock.
Not pain.
Not the uncontrolled flood of the suppression chamber.
Just…
awareness.
Of myself.
Of the chamber.
Of the two people watching me with their hearts in their throats.
Horace's hand spread flat against the glass.
Rowan was sobbing silently, begging through the window for someone to turn the mic back on.
Lucian was shouting something I couldn't hear.
Chandler, outside the booth, slammed both hands on the glass separating him from Hale.
And Hale—
Hale watched with fascination.
"Fascinating," he murmured.
"She's reacting without an Alpha catalyst."
Lucian's voice could faintly be heard through the glass—
"—THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE PUSHING HER TOO HARD—"
Hale barely glanced at him.
"Let us see how far she can go."
THE SECOND FREQUENCY
A sharp pulse hit the ground.
Then another.
Then another—
faster now, like footsteps chasing my heartbeat.
The temperature dropped lower.
My breath turned to visible mist.
But my skin—
my skin grew warmer.
Not feverish.
Just—
alive.
Lights crawled up the walls, following my position.
The resonance panel wasn't reading me anymore.
It was reacting to me.
I raised my hand slightly.
The lights followed.
Horace's eyes widened, something like awe breaking through his fear.
Rowan froze, breath trembling.
Lucian stared, stunned.
Hale leaned in.
"Yes… good.
Let's increase intensity."
He lifted the dial.
A third pulse rolled outward.
This one hit harder.
My knees weakened.
Rowan panicked.
Horace shouted.
Chandler roared something from outside.
But I steadied myself.
I exhaled.
The energy settled.
Rodin's voice whispered faintly through the glass—
"…she stabilized it?"
Even Lucian blinked.
"She is… absorbing the resonance?"
Hale's eyes flashed.
"Impossible."
I lifted my chin.
The chamber thrummed around me like an echo of my pulse.
Rowan's face pressed to the glass, breath fogging it.
Horace placed both hands there, forehead against the barrier.
I stood taller.
Still.
Clear.
Alive.
Hale narrowed his eyes.
"Very well.
Let us move to Stage Three."
Lucian lunged for the panel.
"No—!"
But Hale slammed the override.
Lights blazed.
A deep frequency erupted—
stronger than anything before.
The final test began.
Breaking Point
Stage Three hit like a thunderclap.
The entire chamber shook—
not violently, not enough to throw me,
but enough that the ground groaned beneath my feet.
The blue rings flared white for a split second—
then dropped into a deep, pulsing violet.
A frequency not meant for Omegas.
A frequency I had never felt before.
Something inside me jolted.
My breath caught.
Heat pooled under my skin, not surface-level warmth but something deeper—
a tug, a pull, like my body responding to an instinct I didn't recognize.
My vision flickered.
My knees bent.
For the first time since stepping inside—
I staggered.
"ELLEANORE!"
Horace's voice cut through the chamber, muffled by glass and machinery,
but loud enough that I felt it in my bones.
I glanced up.
Horace had slammed both fists against the observation window so hard cracks spiderwebbed across the reinforced barrier.
"TURN IT OFF!"
He roared, voice breaking.
"TURN IT OFF NOW!"
Rowan was crying, palms flat against the glass.
"She's falling—she's falling! Stop it, turn it—TURN IT DOWN!"
Lucian hammered at the controls inside the booth.
"It's not responding—what—
What did you DO?!"
Hale didn't flinch.
He moved one finger.
One small adjustment.
The chamber's resonance spiked.
My chest cinched.
My breath locked.
The violet frequency surged upward in a single, brutal wave—
My legs collapsed.
I hit the floor hard enough to make the rings flare white.
Rowan's scream choked against the glass.
Horace shattered the nearest console with a punch.
Chandler—outside the main room—slammed his entire body into the outer security window.
Not stopping.
Not thinking.
Just—breaking.
Lucian stared at his panel, horror twisting his face.
"Oh stars—
it's overclocked.
The frequency is WRONG.
This isn't a stability test—
it's a bond induction protocol."
Horace froze.
Rowan's breath stopped.
Chandler stopped slamming the glass long enough to choke out:
"…what?"
Lucian's voice trembled with fury.
"This isn't a resonance assessment.
This is the protocol used during Alpha-Omega forced imprinting experiments.
Experiments banned twenty years ago."
Rowan sobbed into his hands.
Horace's eyes went completely wild.
Chandler lunged for the inner door.
Hale simply smiled.
Cold.
Satisfied.
"I wondered," he murmured,
"how long it would take you to recognize it."
THE CHAMBER RESPONDS TO ME
Inside the chamber—
I felt it.
A pull.
Like invisible hands grasping at my core.
Not pain—
worse.
Instinct.
Instinct without direction.
Instinct without safety.
A bond-induction frequency meant to force Omegas into attachment.
To break their boundaries.
To make them dependent on the nearest Alpha.
But—
I wasn't near an Alpha.
I was alone.
The machine was trying to make my body reach out in panic, in desperation, in biological survival instinct—
but there was no Alpha for it to latch onto.
So it turned inward.
The pressure built inside my skull, behind my ribs, in my throat.
I gasped, choking on air that wouldn't enter fast enough.
My hands clawed at the floor.
The lights throbbed violently; the hum sharpened into a relentless, splintering whine.
"ELLEANORE!"
Horace's voice cracked—
the first time I'd heard it truly break.
Rowan's palms slid down the glass, leaving streaks where his tears hit it.
"Please—please stop—she can't—SHE CAN'T—"
Lucian tried every emergency shutdown sequence he knew.
None responded.
Chandler roared as he slammed into the door again—
metal denting beneath his weight.
He didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
Blood smeared the metal.
He kept going.
Rowan screamed.
Horace tore at the emergency release panel, ripping out entire circuits.
Nothing responded.
Hale tapped a new sequence into his private console.
"Interesting…" he murmured.
Lucian realized what he was doing.
"YOU'RE MAPPING HER PHEROMONE PROFILE!"
Hale didn't deny it.
"She's the first Omega I've seen with this level of threshold resistance.
Remarkable."
Rowan sobbed harder.
Horace was panting, losing control.
Chandler was one second from tearing the walls apart with his bare hands.
And me—
My chest constricted.
My fingertips tingled.
My vision blurred.
The chamber frequency tried to force my instincts to reach for an Alpha—
but the only people I sensed were behind reinforced walls.
I felt myself slipping.
Cracking.
Breaking.
My mouth opened—
but no sound came.
Just breath.
Just panic.
Just instinct screaming for something I couldn't reach.
Everything dimmed.
Everything blurred.
And then—
I heard it.
Not the chamber hum.
Not the machine.
Not Hale.
But—
"Elleanore."
Horace's voice.
Muffled.
Broken.
Desperate.
Followed immediately by—
"Elle, please—please listen to us—"
Rowan.
Crying.
Then—
"Snap out of it—
I swear to the stars, you're stronger than this—"
Chandler.
Voice trembling.
And Lucian shouting:
"FOCUS ON THEM, NOT THE FREQUENCY—FOCUS ON YOUR OWN INSTINCT, NOT WHAT THE MACHINE TELLS YOU!"
The chamber ceiling creaked as Rowan pounded on the glass with both fists.
Horace slammed his entire forearm against the window, leaving blood behind.
Chandler rammed into the metal until bone cracked.
And something in me snapped.
Not broken.
Not crushed.
Not torn apart.
Awake.
My breath dragged in hard.
I lifted my head.
My fingers curled against the floor.
My vision sharpened again.
Rowan screamed:
"Elle—ELLEANORE—LOOK AT US!"
I did.
And for the first time—
the chamber lights faltered.
Hale's head snapped up.
"…what?"
Lucian stared.
"No… no, she's overriding it—"
Horace slammed both palms to the glass.
"STAY WITH US!"
Rowan pressed beside him.
"WE'RE RIGHT HERE!"
Chandler roared again and threw himself at the door.
And the resonance—
shifted.
Because my body wasn't answering the machine.
It was answering them.
Horace.
Rowan.
Chandler.
The frequency bent.
The violet lights flickered.
Hale stepped back from his console.
"Impossible."
Lucian whispered:
"She's resisting the induction."
Rowan's voice cracked:
"She's fighting it—"
Horace whispered, breath trembling:
"Come back to me."
Chandler's voice broke through the steel:
"You come out that door."
The hum grew unstable.
The walls shook.
Then—
the chamber blew a fuse.
Lights burst.
Panels cracked.
The floor rings flared bright white—
and the entire system
shut down.
Leaving me—
collapsed on the floor.
Breathing.
Alive.
And conscious.