Chapter one
Camelia
"You made sure to pack all the clothes you'll need? Toiletries, underwear, stuff like that?" Carson Meadows, Camelia's father, watched her like a hawk as she wandered around the house, picking up this thing and that as she decided on the last few things that she wanted to throw in her already overflowing suitcase.
"Yes, Dad," she said, wincing and rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "But I swear to God, if you ask me about my underwear one more time, I am going to murder you."
He didn't take the bait, his eyes narrowing a little as he patted the couch next to him in a clear command. "Understood. Please come here."
Camelia swallowed against the snarky comment that wanted to bubble up, abandoning her quest for the perfect trinket to put on her new dorm bedside table and sitting in the requested spot. She brushed away a lock of dark hair from where it had fallenover her forehead, forcing herself to meet her father's gaze even though she just wanted to stare at her lap and fidget.
God, no matter how old she was, he always managed to make her feel like a little girl in trouble when he wanted to talk to her about anything serious.
"I just want to make sure that you're going to okay," he said softly. "With the new move and everything. I know that..." He pressed his lips together, reaching out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His brown eyes were intense on her as he continued. "After what happened last time..."
Camelia interrupted before he could go down that particular path, offering a small smile as she reached out to pat his hand. "Daddy, haven't we talked this to death by now? You know that I'm going to be careful."
He didn't smile back at her, reaching out and grasping her hand tightly. "Camelia. This is serious. Please tell me that you're taking this seriously."
Camelia frowned, a hint of insult trickling into her system. "Dad. I think if anyone is taking this seriously, it's me. You don't need to remind me what almost happened. Iknow."
He furrowed his brow. "You have your meds all packed, then? Hidden safely?"
Camelia swallowed, her resolve wavering slightly as she responded, her voice a little softer. "Yeah, I've got them. They're in a safe at the bottom of my bag. I'll just...tell my roommate that I've got valuables, if she asks."
Carson nodded, squeezing her hand again before running a hand through his gray-streaked dark hair. "Okay. And I'm just a phone call away, you know that." He frowned a little. "I wish that you would have agreed to just stay here during your senior year..."
Camelia interrupted, standing up and brushing her hair to the side. "Dad, I didn't live with my father the entirety of my firstthree years of college, I'm not going to do it now that I'm moving to a new school, no matter how prestigious."
She walked away before he could protest more, and it wasn't until she was in her room and the door was safely closed and locked behind her that she allowed herself to release a shaky breath.
She was nervous, no matter the front that she put on for her dad. He was so anxious that Camelia rarely felt able to share her true worries with him, not wanting to burden him more than his own mind already did. She was used to putting on a strong front but...
This time, it was hard.
She chewed on her lower lip as she sat beside her suitcase, stuffed to capacity and strapped to high heaven to fit everything that she had wanted to pack. Rationally, she knew that she could have packed two suitcases and split the load between the two of them, but her mind had convinced itself that one suitcase would be easier to pack if she needed to make a quick escape again.
God, she hated that she needed to think about things like that.
She reached under all her clothes and dug out the tiny safe that she had bought, punching in the code and opening it. She glanced at the door, making sure that it was locked – though she knew that she had nothing to hide from the only other person currently in the house – and let out a shaky breath as she pulled out the packets of pills that she had stashed in the safe.
To most people, the pills in their neatly organized weekly packs looked something like birth control. One for every day of the week, taken at the same time to increase their efficacy.
For someone like Camelia, they were more important and more dangerous at the same time. Omega suppressants, formulated to control her cycles of heat and rest so that she didn't give off pheromones on the days in between, and sothat her heat cycle was fully eradicated. At least as far as pharmaceutical interventions could assure.
For some, presenting as on Omega would have been something of a genetic lottery. Omegas were rare, something like half a percent of the world population. The going theory was that Alphas and Omegas initially developed their unique genetic codes at a time when the world was in a particularly low cycle of birth and death, with more people dying off than could reasonably reproduce by traditional means.
Enter Alphas. Taller, stronger. More virile. More aggressive than Betas, and almost four times as common as Omegas. They quickly took positions in leading roles of society once it became clear that their unique traits made them suited for some...deeply unpleasant tasks. Military leaders. Assassins. Bodyguards. Enforcers, in every sense of the world.
And Omegas...Camelia closed her eyes, a hint of shame making her cheeks heat as she clutched her suppressant pills tighter. Curvy. Sweet. Submissive.Fertile. Meant for Alphas, in every way, shape, and form.
The heat cycle was a phenomenon that had, in theory, allowed for the earth to turn the tide on population decline and rebound. Omegas in heat were desperate for sex,desperatefor an Alpha to breed them. Pregnancy was almost guaranteed for Omegas in heat if they Mated with an Alpha, and even if they only just fucked them...the chances were still pretty damn good.
Camelia had started taking birth control the moment that she and her mother had figured out her presentation when she was fourteen. "You want to make sure that when you have a baby, you're ready for it," her mother had told her firmly. "Heat cycles make everyone involved act irrationally, and I don't want you to make a decision that you're not ready for just because your biology wants it."
It had been the best advice that her mother had given her, especially given that she had passed away shortly after from ovarian cancer.
Camelia had gone through her first heat cycle alone, figuring out what her hormones did and meant now, and...after that, things had changed.
