The scent of warm coffee and freshly baked bread wrapped around Emery Vance like a childhood lullaby. His legs swung under the wooden counter as he watched his Alpha father, Deputy Superintendent Raphael Vance, sip his coffee in the morning light.

"Strong men don’t always have to fight, Emmy," Raphael murmured, ruffling his soft brown hair. "But they never bow to injustice."

Emery grinned, puffing up his tiny chest. "Like you, Papa?"

Raphael chuckled, setting his cup down before pulling him close. “Like you," he whispered against his hair. "One day, you’ll be stronger than me.”

From behind the counter, **Lucien Vance—his Omega father—**rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “Don’t fill his head with nonsense, honey. He’s already stubborn enough.”

Raphael only grinned. “That’s the Vance blood in him.”

At six years old, Emery didn’t understand much, but he knew one thing—his father was invincible.

And then, one day, he wasn’t.

The day Raphael Vance died, the world stopped turning.

Lucien wasn’t the type to wail in grief. He simply sat at their kitchen table, staring at his trembling hands, the black badge wrapped in his fingers.

Emery stood there, small and lost. “Papa…?”

Lucien didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink.

It was the first time Emery saw his father break, and it terrified him more than death itself.

Grief settled into their home like a ghost—silent, suffocating, inescapable.

Lucien kept the café running, but his hands were a little slower, his smiles a little weaker. Yet, he still made Emery’s favorite pastries on bad days, still kissed his forehead before bed. Love didn’t die with Raphael. It just hurt more.

But when Emery said, “I want to be a police officer.”

Lucien’s hands stilled. His face drained of color.

“No.”

His voice was sharp, raw.

Emery clenched his fists. “But—”

“No, Emmy.” Lucien turned, his usually warm eyes clouded with fear. “I won’t lose you, too.”

Emery’s throat burned. “Papa died protecting people.”

Lucien exhaled sharply, his breath unsteady. “And what did it give him, honey? A bullet to the chest? A grave? I won’t let you walk down the same path.”

Silence.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Then, Lucien sighed and pulled Emery into his arms, his fingers gripping the back of his shirt.

“I won’t stop you,” he whispered, voice shaking. “But, Emmy… I just—” He swallowed hard. “I just want you to be safe.”

Emery closed his eyes and hugged his father tighter.

“I will be.”

The Academy was Hell.

Being an Omega in the police force? Unthinkable.

From day one, every eye was on him—and not in admiration.

An Omega?
He won’t last a week.
He’ll break.

He found his locker vandalized. His training gear missing. Alphas shoved past him harder than necessary, sneering, testing his limits.

But Emery did not break.

When they mocked his size, he outran them.
When they tried to knock him down, he stood up stronger.
When they laughed at his exhaustion, he ran another lap.

Pain became his shadow, but so did determination.

His fingers bled from hours of target practice.
His arms burned from grappling against Alphas twice his size.
His bones screamed in protest, but he never gave up.

Because this was more than a dream.

This was his name, his father’s legacy, his own place in the world.

And when graduation day came, when his name was called, when he stood before the academy as the first Omega detective in history—

He knew he had won.

But the real battle had only just begun.

“The city has a serial murderer,” Superintendent Holloway announced. “And I need my best man on the case.”

A murmur spread through the room. Everyone already knew who he meant.

Callum Graves.

The name sent a shiver down Emery’s spine.

Callum Graves was a nightmare wrapped in human skin. An Alpha detective with a reputation for being ruthless, unapproachable, and feared across the force.

When Holloway glanced around the room and asked, “Any volunteers?”

Silence.

Every officer stared at their files, their shoes—anywhere but at Holloway.

But Emery?

He took a step forward.

“I’ll do it.”

Laughter. Scoffs. Someone muttered, "The Omega’s lost his mind."

Holloway’s sharp gaze locked onto him. “You sure, Vance?”

Emery straightened his back. “Yes, sir.”

Holloway exhaled. “Then report to Graves immediately.”

Meeting Callum Graves in person was… unpleasant.

The man leaned against his desk, arms crossed, golden eyes cold and assessing. He didn’t stand when Emery entered. Didn’t acknowledge him beyond a slow, disinterested glance.

Emery cleared his throat. “Detective Emery Vance. I’ll be assisting you on the case.”

Callum tilted his head, looking at him like he was some kind of insect. Then he smirked.

“No, you won’t.”

Emery blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t work with partners.” Callum stood, towering over Emery like a storm cloud. “Especially not fresh academy graduates.”

And just like that, he brushed past him without another word.

Emery clenched his jaw. Oh, hell no.

So when Callum drove off without him, Emery followed.

Through rain-slicked streets, through winding alleys—until Callum finally stopped at a crime scene.

As Callum stepped out of his car, Emery walked right up beside him, completely unfazed.

Callum turned, golden eyes flickering with irritation. “You’re persistent.”

Emery smirked. “You have no idea.”

Callum studied him for a long moment, then exhaled sharply.

“Fine. But stay out of my way.”

Emery crossed his arms. “Not a chance.”

And with that, they stepped into the crime scene—together.