Chapter One – Dulcie
When management changed at Solus Academy, I honestly didn’t expect much. Life at Solus wasn’t good or fun; we’re the omegas society didn’t want. The orphans. The ones whose parents decided, once we presented, they couldn’t handle having an omega child. A few of the girls even were genetically tested after they were born, and when the odds came back to show they would probably be omegas, they were cast off.
We’re important to society, sure. Without us, a lot of the packs you see wouldn’t exist. Yet we seem to be the ones who always get the short end of the stick.
Maybe it’s because we’re smaller than your average person. Maybe it’s because we’re so dang pretty, without trying. Maybe it’s our scents, our big eyes, our full lips, the curves on our bodies. Heck, it’s probably everything combined.
So, when Delilah and that Mercedes took over and gave the academy a new name, N.O.A., on behalf of Alabaster Security, I wasn’t expecting much. The last thing I expected was for every omega that was of age—see: at least eighteen—to be invited to a Valentine’s Day mixer at the Omega Garden downtown.
For one, the old management never threw us anything. Secondly, the Omega Garden was where rich-blooded omegas went when they were ready to settle down and find a pack. No nameless omegas welcome there… unless you had luck on your side. I heard that was how Mercedes found her pack, by sneaking in somehow.
She has balls, I’ll give her that.
There aren’t many of us left who are of age. Most were hurriedly sold off before Alabaster Security finalized everything. The ones that are left are the lucky ones, I suppose, which is kindof funny. Not once in my life have I ever thought of myself as lucky.
But here I am, twenty years old, and still here. I liked to think it was because I always kept to myself, never acted out, so I never gave the old headmaster a reason to look twice at me. Coasted under the radar this entire time. Tonight will probably be the same.
I’m not stupid. I don’t think some suave alpha pack will come strolling in the Omega Garden and sweep me off my feet. Stuff like that happens to other omegas, sure, but not me.
Still, I’m getting ready just as the others are. Casey, my best friend, is currently with the hairdresser and stylist Raeka Whittenhall brought in.
Oh, wait. No, she’s not a Whittenhall anymore. She’s a Chase. I keep forgetting that.
Raeka had somehow become fast friends with Mercedes and took it upon herself to make sure us omegas still at N.O.A. had better closets, nice haircuts, and even manicured nails. A lot of frilly, frivolous things, but I could see how happy such things made the others, so I didn’t judge.
My turn with the stylist was right before Casey’s. We made a plan that we would go all out tonight, if only for our own amusement and fun. My blond hair had been dyed a pretty bubblegum pink and cut shorter, its lengths ending just below my shoulders instead of halfway down my back. My friend would go for a shade of purple.
Why? Why not? None of us knew what to expect tonight. Any alpha who wanted to could apply for a ticket to tonight’s mixer—regardless of status or last name. All they had to do was pass a background check through Alabaster Security. No criminals or omega-killing alphas allowed.
Theoretically, this meant there could be tons of alphas there tonight. They could outnumber us omegas thirty to one. The possibility made my head spin in an uncomfortable way.
I wouldn’t say I hate alphas, but maybe I would say I don’t trust them. I was cast off from an alpha pack once I presented as an omega, way back when I was only a kid of thirteen. They didn’t want betas or omegas; all they wanted were alphas. Only alphas could pass on their bloodline, something which, the longer I thought about it now that I was older, was just ridiculous. An omega passed on the same bloodline as an alpha, and we were the ones giving birth.
It was just another way to show that us omegas weren’t seen as equals. We became someone new when we were taken into a pack. We became theirs. Property, in a way. Some groups, including Alabaster Security, are actively seeking to change the status quo when it comes to omegas, but I still think we’re a long time away from any of that actually happening.
The people in power rarely want to give any of it up.
Currently, I pace the length of my room. The dress I picked from the lineup of gowns Raeka’s people had brought laid on the bed, still on the hanger. It was a pretty light pink, the same shade as my hair. Strapless, it would be tight around the chest and stomach area, and then it cascaded down from the hips in a much looser way, ending just above the ankles. No extra fake diamond studs or stupid little bows. Plain, but still pretty.
I have heels to go with it, I just don’t really know how to walk in them. I might wear flats instead.
My normally makeup-free face has a few layers on it, especially around the eyes. I didn’t really have anything to cover up on my face, so I didn’t understand why any of that makeup was necessary, but I let the artist do their thing. I do like how my brown eyes pop a bit more, though. The dark color, surroundedby a smoky eyeshadow and eyeliner, contrasts nicely with the color of my hair.
I don’t know how long it is before Casey skips into the room, already wearing her dress. Totally ready to go. She grins widely and spins around for me, asking, “How do I look?” Her dress, like mine, matches her new hair.
Purple. Not a light purple, not a lilac, like I thought she was going for, but a deep, luscious purple that brought to mind royalty. Her hair had been trimmed, still ridiculously long, but the length gave the color depth and volume. She wore a sparkling necklace on her collarbone to complete the look.
She was beautiful, and I told her so: “You look amazing.”
“I know.” She giggles, not one for humility. Out of the two of us, she was way more outgoing. She was fortunate she’d been in the process of getting sold off when Alabaster Security came and saved the day, breaking the contract between the old headmaster and her would-be pack—some nameless, no-good pack whose last omega went missing.
For someone whose fate had been seconds from being sealed, she’s always in a good mood.
“Dulcie, what are you waiting for? Get dressed,” she says, stopping her twirling as she suddenly realizes I’m not wearing the dress I picked out. “Everyone’s just about ready. I was the last appointment at the hairdresser. I’m pretty sure we’re leaving soon.”
I bury my face in my hands. “Do I really have to go?” If I could, I’d hide forever behind these hands. If I can’t see the outside world, it doesn’t exist, right?
A stupid, childish thing to think, but honestly, it was thoughts like those that got me through the last few years here. Things haven’t always been this good at N.O.A. Back when it was Solus Academy, things were bad. Omegas were punished all thetime. We were treated like prisoners here, and that was why so many tried to escape.
