Although it feelslike murky waters, I can’t help myself when I pull out my old notebooks. Something’s been itching at my brain ever since Thatcher mentioned that Opal can’t take pain medication for her headaches, but I can’t pinpoint it. Having spent my first year in classes built around basic biology and different diseases that attack the body, I’m positive that I read something about this before. It’ll just take some digging.
Learning medicine was a drag. It was also excessive, which is evident by the mountain of notebooks I have in front of me from my freshman year alone. I start going through the ones from Omega Anatomy, which was arguably one of my favorite classes while I was studying medicine. I’m looking for a specific note that I jotted down when my brain spots something strange.
Hyper-Hormonal Omega Syndrome:
Rare Condition, Only 50 Cases Worldwide
The words seem to sparkle, and my brain is unable to look away. I don’t remember going over this in class, but it’s the only note I have written down for it. The rest of the page is full of other rare conditions, all related to omegas and their heat cycles. I open my laptop and type in the disorder, clicking on the first resource available.
Hyper-Hormonal Omega Syndrome (HHOS) is a condition that presents in omegas that causes an overproduction of hormones that results in premature heat cycles.
I raise a brow. Premature heat cycles? What the hell does that mean?
A flare-up of HHOS includes the following:
Long-Term Migraines
Fever/Flu-Like Symptoms
Spontaneous Heat Spikes
Painful Cramps
Sensitivity to Light/Sound
Exaggerated Scent
Dysregulated Menstruation
Dysregulated Heat Cycles
I keep reading the list, wondering why there are so many listed. Below the symptoms, a disclaimer says:Symptoms are varied between individuals, but the consistent variable is that early heat cycles occur regardless of the bonding status of individuals.
Well, fuck. I didn’t even know that was possible. What do unbonded omegas with HHOS do when their heat arrives? The idea sends chills down my spine.
I scroll down, not even bothering with the section titledCausesbecause it pisses me off that there are only a few short sentences there. TheTreatmentsection comes up, but the section is just as short.
The only known treatment plan includes Heat Inhibitors that can help block the production of hormones speculated to cause the uncomfortable symptoms. It can’t, however, prevent the premature heat cycle from occurring.In some cases, scent blockers can help postpone heat cycles, but there is no conclusive data to support why.
I come to a halt, my mind hyperfocusing on the sentence about scent blockers. When I asked Opal about them, she opened up about a horrible blind date she had been on and why she chose to go on them. My gut says that story is true. If I were accosted by an alpha like that, I would feel insecure about having my scent out in the open, too. But I wonder if that isn’t the only reason why she hides her scent behind blockers. I wonder if the reason why she was even going on blind dates to begin with has to do with feeling like a ticking time bomb, desperate not to explode before she got somewhere safe. My stomach tightens at the thought.
My finger slips and the page scrolls down. The picture that shows up causes me to stop everything. It’s a weirdly artistic photograph, little clear capsules laid about with one opened wide, the blue beads spilling out. My entire body freezes as I recognize it as the pill I accidentally saw Opal take that morning, the one that caused her to panic when she realized I was watching her. The tiny picture description reads:HHOS inhibitors.
The queasiness in my stomach doubles. The other day comes roaring back. Thatcher describing her symptoms, the duration of how long it lasted. There’s no doubt in my mind that she had a flare-up, and now she is trying to pretend like it never happened.
The rabbit hole of research I find myself going down continues to cause more and more awful feelings. There apparently isn’t much regulation when it comes to HHOS, and the little bit of knowledge thatisavailable is disturbing. My question is, what happens to unbonded omegas who go into theirheat cycles? Apparently, the only solution that douchebag overseers can come up with is locking them in isolation to fend for themselves. In fact, most are encouraged to seek this route so they’re not a‘burden to society.’Gag me with a fucking spoon. Or better yet, I’d like to gag the douchebag who made this decision with one. The biggest spoon I can find.
The idea of Opal going through something like this makes me want to literally riot. She’s the sweetest person, and if my gut is right about this, she is struggling right under our roof, and none of us had aclue.
My mind turns to Sam and the creative cases he’s talked about in the past. There may not be a lot of information on the internet about the rights of these omegas—of Opal—but I know there must be a case out there that has a record of this condition and what it does to people. So, before I can think better of it, I grab my coat and walk out the door to send my boyfriend on a wild goose chase.
When I getto Alpha Xi, I walk right in. Normally, I’d feel awkward about that, but this time I don’t care. I’m on a mission to get more information, and nothing can stop me, not even the confused stares from the members as they lounge around the house.
I walk upstairs, using muscle memory to get to Sam’s office. He is standing, as he often does when he’s examining a lot of paperwork at once. He holds a single piece of paper amongst many when he hears me enter and looks up, his face lighting up at my arrival.
Oh, not right now, you stupid butterflies, I’m on a mission.
But that mission is paused as I take a look at his desk, noticing all the papers flung about. My alpha is organized,almost unbearably so. Seeing papers in such a disarray is my first sign that things are a bit chaotic. “That’s a lot of papers,” I comment sarcastically. “What are you working on?”
