The focus of her anger appears to be an older man in an expensive-looking overcoat and polished leather shoes with those ugly rubber sole protectors around them. An older couple nods along as he speaks, hanging on his every word.
She spots us and waves us over.
“Come here,” she calls. “You need to hear this bullshit.”
“—simply unnatural,” he’s saying as we approach. “Marjorie Beaumont may have made millions with that Alpha-Away spray of hers, but at what cost to society? To traditional values?”
Charlie grabs my arm and pulls me closer. “This is Mayor Reynolds,” she whispers, her voice tight. “Town’s biggest asshole.”
The mayor continues, unaware of Charlie’s commentary. “An unmarried, unmated omega in her forties, running a corporation? It’s not what omegas are made for. It goes against their nature.”
I know Marjorie Beaumont—not personally, of course, but every omega knows of her. She revolutionized omega safety with Alpha-Away, giving us protection during heats or unwanted advances. She’s a hero to many of us.
“She has done a tremendous disservice to omegas everywhere. Omegas simply aren’t built for the corporate world,” the mayor continues. “Their natural place is in the home, nurturing their alphas and children. That’s where they find true fulfillment.”
Charlie’s eyes meet mine, one of her eyebrows raised. I can almost hear her voice from earlier: Fuck demure.
“What do you think, young lady?” The mayor suddenly turns my way. “You look like a sensible omega.”
Everyone turns to look at me.
Shit.
I take a steadying breath, suddenly aware of Charlie’s expectant gaze and Oxford’s presence beside me. The mayor’s eyes bore into mine, his expression smug with the certainty that I’ll agree with him.
“Actually, sir,” I begin, my voice slightly unsteady, “I think Marjorie Beaumont has done something extraordinary for omegas everywhere. She created a product that protectsvulnerable omegas from unwanted advances and potentially dangerous situations. That’s hardly a disservice.”
The mayor’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting pushback.
“And beyond that,” I continue, feeling a strange surge of confidence, “she’s built a business that employs hundreds of people—alphas, betas, and omegas alike. She’s created opportunities where none existed before, and is helping omegas finally have financial independence.”
“That’s a very progressive view,” Mayor Reynolds says with a condescending smile. “But surely you understand that such independence comes at a cost to traditional family structures. An omega’s natural fulfillment comes from—”
“Forgive me, Mayor,” I interrupt, surprising even myself, “but I wasn’t aware you had experienced life as an omega to make such definitive statements about our natural fulfillment.”
Charlie snorts beside me.
Charlie catches my eye and gives me an approving nod.
“I’ve been studying designation dynamics for longer than you’ve been alive,” he says curtly.
I square my shoulders.
“Studying something isn’t the same as living it,” I reply, my heart hammering. “With all due respect, perhaps your views are a bit… outdated? The world is evolving. Omegas are discovering that we can be nurturingandambitious. Supportiveandindependent. It’s not either/or.”
I feel Oxford shift beside me, moving slightly closer to the mayor. I’m too focused on maintaining eye contact with Reynolds to pay much attention.
The mayor’s face flushes red. “Young lady, that’s precisely the problem with your generation. No respect for traditional values or natural hierarchies. An omega like you shouldunderstand her place rather than parroting progressive nonsense.”
“My place?” I repeat, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “I believe my ‘place’ is wherever I choose it to be, just as Ms. Beaumont chose hers.”
“Inexperience makes you naïve,” he says dismissively, turning to the older couple beside him. “You see? This is what happens when omegas aren’t properly guided.”
Just as I open my mouth to respond, there’s a sudden movement beside me. Oxford, who has been watching this exchange with what I can only describe as increasing disdain, steps forward deliberately.
The mayor turns, noticing the llama for the first time. “What is this beast doing here—”
Before he can finish his sentence, Oxford makes a sound—half snort, half gurgle—and then projectile spits directly onto the mayor’s expensive coat.
