“I’ll find out,” Rogue promises. He grabs my shoulder, pulling me into an embrace. I need the touch from my pack. I can feel myself spiraling. This is so much more than I expected. A visit, maybe having to meet an omega or two. Not this.
We pull apart as a light knock on the door announces the return of the guard, this time with one of the matrons responsible for looking after the omegas. Some fucking care provider.
My lip curls as she enters the room, and the beta woman recoils slightly. Avoiding my gaze, she nods at Rogue and edges around me, walking to the front. As we take a seat, she launches into a spiel about omega matches.
“As alphas, you have a societal responsibility to fully control your omega by means of the Omega Creed,” she begins with a slight lisp, hands clasped behind her back as she drones on.
“Omegas are a unique and rare opportunity. Handled carefully, they can be a valuable addition to any alpha pack. Particularly as they also provide the possibility of children.”
A sudden image of Harper, cheeks bright with a rosy hue and belly rounded with pregnancy comes into my head, making a prickle slide down my spine. Swallowing uncomfortably, I push the image away and try to concentrate in case the beta says anything useful.
“However, if handled badly,” the beta continues in a grave tone, “then the consequences can be severe.”
She clicks a button on a remote in her hand and images flash up on the screen behind her. Omegas with sunken eyes staring emptily at the camera. Alpha packs fighting, violence on the streets. Images from the omega war. The montage ends with a close-up of an alpha’s face twisted in an unnatural snarl, and I flinch.
I breathe in and out, slowly, fighting the will to just get up and leave. Rogue’s hand lands on my knee, stopping it from jiggling up and down in nerves.
“The Omega Creed was carefully developed over a number of years, designed to offer true protection for omegas whilst accounting for their unavoidable behaviors. They are, after all, the key to our future.” The beta grimaces as she says the words, and I wonder what her personal feelings are.
“It’s absolutely critical that you, as responsible alphas, follow the rules set out in their entirety in order to make sure your omega remains healthy and obedient.”
I roll my eyes slightly and glance at Rogue. He’s paying full attention, brow furrowed slightly in concentration. I half expect him to whip out a notepad and dutifully write all this shite down.
The beta jabbers at us for a good thirty minutes, talking through diet, exercise, appropriate activities, and a particular warning about restricting access to soft furnishings. Apparently, omegas will turn into some sort of rabid beast if we give them a blanket. My mind starts to wander back to the omega we left in Christian’s office until her words draw my full attention.
“Now, heats. When in an uncontrolled state, omegas will go into heat approximately four times per year. These can last a number of days and are notorious for bringing alphas under full control of omegas throughsexual means.” Her voice drops slightly on the last phrase, a hint of scandal lacing her prim tone.
“Sometimes, smaller heat spikes can also occur in the build-up to a natural heat. The hormones emitted by omegas during a natural heat can induce a trance state in alphas, like being drugged. Alphas are drawn to obey every whim of the omega. These periods are highly dangerous, and uncontrolled heats are not permitted under any circumstances. Following the rules of the creed will prevent a natural heat from occurring.”
I feel a sliver of relief at the thought.
“However, heats are the only period in which omegas become fertile. Therefore, the Omega Compound has developed a secure way to safely replicate a natural heat environment without the impact on alphas.”
The beta talks through the artificial heat process. It involves injecting the omega with heat hormones and keeping them sedated for a 48-hour period while the alphas… use them. My stomach knots when I imagine an unconscious Harper in that position, and I swallow hard to get rid of the sick feeling. Rogue looks green at the thought too. I didn’t know much about the artificial heat process, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I don’t want anything to do with it.
The beta must catch our expressions because she stops and flaps her hands. “Oh, not to worry! I understand that despite the restraints, many omegas find it a wonderful and fulfilling experience.”
We both stare at her.
“Well, moving on.” Glancing down, she shuffles some papers.
“You will be provided with a starter pack for your omega. This includes appropriate compound-approved bedding and sleeping arrangements, a short-term supply of nutrients and some changes of clothing. Where additional equipment is required, this can be collected from the omega store. An artificial heat pack is also included, although this should not be used until the match has completed the trial period and been signed off by the Director. Additional equipment to support the heat process will be delivered to you in around two weeks’ time.”
It’s like we’re collecting a dog.
“The omega will be supplied on a trial period at first. Should your pack provide the appropriate level of care and command, the Omega Compound will authorize a full handover after appropriate checks have been made. Please note that although bitemarks are not permitted until handover, we do encourage alphas to make use of the trial period through general mating activity. It’s important that omegas are able to please the pack they are being placed with.”
God, please get me out of here.
Thankfully, the beta seems to be winding down. She hands Rogue a thick booklet and package and disappears, leaving us both to stew over what we’ve just heard.
“I’m really not sure about this,” mutters Rogue. “But we can’t leave her here.”
As much as I want to pretend this whole day didn’t happen, I can’t disagree with him. Sighing, I push myself up. “I know. So, let’s get her and get out of here.”
“How do you think Gabe and Ace will feel? Should we call them?”
Snorting, I shake my head. “Let them find out when we get home. They’re the reason we’re in this mess. Besides, I want to see Gabe’s face when we rock up with an actual omega.”
