A Perfect 100% Pheromone Match

A report showing a 100% match forces the Empire’s coldest Alpha general to marry an Omega whose identity is a mystery.

He tosses down a chilly agreement: “Behave yourself. We’ll divorce in a year.”

Later, the entire galaxy knows the general is so smitten with his Omega that he puts on a grand display of eating his words every day.

When he finally tears up the agreement and prepares to mark his Omega for good, they disappear, leaving behind a single line: “The agreement has expired. Let’s part on good terms.”

Wanted across the stars, the general corners them against a wall, eyes red: “Honey, I was wrong. Come home with me.”

[Side couple]: The general’s friend, who has charmed his way through countless romances, is now relentlessly pursuing a prickly, icy beauty of a doctor, undeterred by repeated failures.