What I am.
“That’s not—“ I start, then stop. What can I say? That wasn‘t me? That it didn’t happen? That they imagined the sound of an omega purring in response to their presence?
“I should go,” I say instead, stumbling back a step. My hip hits the edge of the desk. “I need to check on the lighting. The props for the next scene. I have to—”
“Maya.” Adrian’s voice is gentle. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I say, the words tumbling out. “It’s not okay. I’m not—I can’t be—“ But I can’t say it. Can’t make it real by putting a name to it. “This is just... it’s the stress. And not sleeping. And the—“
“You’re going into pre-heat.” The words come from the doorway, where Elias Stone now stands, his expression unreadable. “That’s what’s happening.”
I shake my head, backing up until I hit the wall. “No. That’s not—I’m a beta. I’ve always been a beta.”
“It’s rare,” Elias says. His voice is calm, matter-of-fact. “But it happens. Late presentations. Usually triggered by stress or environmental factors.”
“No.” My voice sounds strange in my ears—higher, thinner. “You’re wrong. I’m just tired. I’m just—“
But even as I say it, I know it isn't true. I can't explain away what just happened.
I’m changing.
“I need to go,” I say again. “I need to—I have to—“
“Collins.” Elias says as he steps into the room. “You need to sit down. You’re going into shock.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, but the room is starting to tilt at the edges. My vision blurs, then clears. “I just need some air.”
I push past them, stumbling toward the door. No one tries to stop me, but I feel their eyes on my back as I go. Three sets of eyes, watching me. Seeing me. Knowing what I am before I do.
The hallway outside the room is mercifully empty. I lean against the wall next to the closed door, my heart pounding in my ears. Heat. Pre-heat. Omega.
The words circle in my head, none of them making sense. This isn’t me. This isn‘t my life. I’m Maya Collins, assistant production coordinator. I’m the one who keeps things running. I’m the reliable one. The one who doesn’t get noticed.
Not an omega. Not someone who purrs when alphas walk into a room.
But even as I think it, I know it's too late.
I'm changing.
And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
Chapter 4
Maya
I walk quickly toward Nadia’s trailer, my heart hammering against my ribs. I can still hear it—that small, soft sound that came out of me before I could stop it. Adrian‘s face, eyes widening. Bash’s breath catching. And Elias, standing in the doorway, naming what I am before I can say it myself. Omega. Heat. Pre-heat. The words keep circling through my head, impossible to ignore.
Two crew members pass me, laughing about something, and I duck my head, careful to keep my distance. The sharp smell of their coffee hits me like a physical thing—rich and bitter and so strong it makes my eyes water.
I cut across the back lot, avoiding the main pathways where people might be. The trailer is fifty yards away, its aluminum sides gleaming in the late afternoon sun. I count my steps as I walk, trying to focus on something other than the tightness in my throat, the weird heat crawling under my skin. One, two, three. The production has two weeks left. I just need to get through two weeks without this... whatever it is... getting worse. Without anyone deciding I suddenly can't do the job I've been doing since day one.
The truth sits heavy in my stomach. I can't explain what happened in that room or the way my body reacts to them.
But that's a problem for later.
Right now, I just need to get through the day.
Nothing about my schedule changed. Nothing about the call sheets changed. I can still do my job.
