Bonding is cherished. Bonding is revered. Bonding is life-altering. Or so the Council says. While bonding was certainly eventful for me, it's been anything but the precious occasion pedaled by the Unified Council. But then, most Omegas know the name of the Alpha they share a bond with, and they certainly haven't been suffering from an abnormally aggressive form of bond sickness. Three years later, and given few options to curb the disease, I agree to attend one of the Council's ritzy Matching Galas in the hope of finding a pack that doesn't mind a tarnished Omega. It's a last-ditch effort to keep the sickness at bay, but I'm pessimistic at best. At least, until the very first person I run into is the Alpha that's plagued my every thought. By some miracle, I'm handed the match of my dreams, and yet it feels tenuous. Because while we grow closer and it seems like fate might finally be giving me something good, the sickness claws deeper. I may have found the Alpha whose scar marks my body just in time to lose him. Permanently.
