“That’s us,” I say, and she looks at Shiloh with a sympathetic smile.
“I can take your luggage and phones. If you need to check your devices, just ask a moderator or come down to customer service and they’ll give you space to do so,” she says.
We all hand our phones and luggage over. She tags them as ours, including Shiloh’s.
“Head to level four. Your moderator, Kevin, will be waiting for you.”
Cole ushers Shiloh to the elevator, a tight grip on her hand. As soon as we enter, she turns to me and grabs the sleeve of my suit jacket, rubbing the material between her two fingers. I let her, and do my best not to engage.
As soon as we’re in a nest, then I can say and do whatever I want. But right now, it’s about getting her consent and having everything appropriately set up.
An older Beta man with graying hair and wire-frame glasses is waiting for us. The moment he sees Shiloh, his face drops.
“Please, follow me,” he says sternly, with no introduction.
I glance cautiously over to my pack mates, but we do as we’re told and follow the moderator to the desired room. It’s set up as a more casual medical room. There are enough seats for all of us. Shiloh takes the exam table while Cole stands next to her holding her hand.
Kevin grabs a younger man with a slim build and shaggy blond hair in a white jacket and he’s quickly looking over the Omega in question.
“I’m Dr. Pete Goss, and I’ll be helping you with admission today. These types of situations happen but aren’t as common. Since none of you have files at Heat Haven, we’re going to have to do things a little differently. Shiloh, I fear this is going to be unpleasant, but we need consent,” he says, grabbing something from a container.
“What’s that?” I ask as he shakes the canister.
“Heatoxone. It should help give us at least twenty minutes of lucidity to get her informed consent and explain the process.”
“Will it hurt her?”
“It’s unpleasant for a moment, since her body is already in progressive heat, but it shouldn’t last long.”
“Do you have to?” I ask. The idea of her being in pain in order to be here with us sounds wrong.
“Unfortunately, we have no other choice. Informed consent is the most important thing to Heat Haven, along with Omega safety.”
“Speaking of which,” Kevin says, handing us each a tablet. “These are your consent forms. The most important things to note are in yellow. There’s no bonding permitted on the facility. If you don’t think you’re capable of this, a mouth guard can be issued. You will be watched by a moderator for the entirety of the Omega’s heat for safety. All food and beverage is provided by Heat Haven, however, upon request and additional payment, anything can be added. We will still be testing for STIs. Pete will administer those to all of you before the Heatoxone kicks in. There are also imperative health questions about your health at the bottom of the form.”
I scroll down to the bottom of the document, not giving a shit if I’m signing away a kidney as I sign my name and begin filling out the questions.
“Alright, Shiloh, deep breath,” the doctor says.
She follows his direction, and he places the drug into her nose and pushes. The interaction is instantaneous as she cries out, scratching her neck.
Her breathing is labored for a moment until it mellows out and she looks at the moderator while Dr. Goss opens containers, swabbing each of our cheeks.
“Hello Shiloh, are you here on your own free will?” Kevin asks.
I want to punch him in the face for the question, but I get it.
“Yes,” she says, glancing over at Mack and I, her blush is radiant.
“You have not been coerced in any way to have your heat with these men?”
Her brows furrow as she looks at the moderator. “No, not at all.”
“You’re giving your informed consent to have your heat at Heat Haven and to have each of these individuals here to service your heat.”
“Yes,” she says easily and the blood in my veins pumps wildly.
This is really happening.
