Page 29 of The Omega’s Nest

I glanced at Leo and he was watching me, not the wave, a small crease between his eyebrows, but not like he was annoyed, like he was concentrating. It made me blush. I used to go on and on about surfing back then. But he smiled, and it’d been so fond, so damn interested.

“So, you’re always waiting for a storm you’ll never see.”

The memory is so vivid—the wind tussling his shaggy hair, the maroon jumper with the gold crest of our school on his chest, the crinkle of his eyes and the way he’d said that with his warm smile. He’d said it like me waiting on an unseen storm was genuinely interesting. Like I was interesting. Me. Not as an omega, but as a person.

“Adrian.” Benji’s booming voice comes from my room and yanks me back to the cramped confines of my walk-in robe.

I struggle up, stumbling as I get my feet under me. I’m woozy, sluggish.

“I’m here,” I say and stagger into my room.

Benji turns, looks me up and down. He lifts his head and inhales deeply. He nods as if confirming something to himself. Benji’s not the worst alpha here, not even the worst to look at—he’s got the build and look of a boxer, the intellect of someone who probably failed school out of disinterest, and I’d hardly call him nice, but he’s not a complete asshole. And when he fucked me, he was perfunctory about it, which was better than some of the more sadistic alphas around here. The ones who didn’t shut up, hell-bent on exercising their inner demons by calling us filthy names, and getting off on commanding us, belittling us.

“Good,” Benji says. “You’ll be ready to auction tonight. That came on fast, eh? I’ll get it up on the website.”

My mouth drops open. I stopped the suppressants yesterday and I was already going into heat? But he’s right. I’m hot, my body’s loose, and a subtle ache is beginning inside me, the demand for a knot.

Benji doesn’t wait for me to reply. He’s gone while I continue to stand there, revulsion filling me. How am I going to let someone else touch me after Leo?

Leo. Of course. It’s his scent. I’ve been breathing him in non-stop since stopping my suppressants. He’s sent me into heat way faster than normal.

My legs give out and I sink to the floor. Leo is not going to be the one taking me through this heat. Some other alpha is going to …

I retch, scramble to my feet and race for the toilet. Heaving up the contents of my stomach—water and a bread roll Tristan had insisted I eat—my mind casts around desperately for a way to stop time.

Some other alpha is going to fuck me in heat tonight. And that’s just the beginning. It’ll go on for days. It’s not my first time, but it is the first time since Leo has touched me and I can’t do it.

Oh, God. I land on my ass on the cracked tiles. I can’t do it. How am I going to get out of it? My eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for a way out. All the windows are too high, and they look like they’re soldered to their frames. No escape there. I know this. I’ve thought this before.

The front door? And then what? Where do I go? And how do I explain the swallow tattoo on the back of my hand—the mark of an omega in service to a brothel.

Panic claws up my throat. I drop my head between my knees and try to breathe. The heat is coming on fast. They used to come on fast when I was in high school. I have hazy memories of Leo pacing in front of the nurse’s office at school before my alpha picked me up, took me home, and locked me in my nest in the attic with a pallet of water bottles and a shopping bag full of protein bars. Since I’ve been here, they’ve come on slow when I stop my suppressants, my body repelling the need as much as my mind.

But Benji’s right—I’ll be more than ready to go by tonight. And there’s no way I’ll be in any condition to walk out of here in the hours between now and then.

Going into heat here means I’ll be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Going into heat on the streets means anything could happen—some random alpha could grab me in that state, use me, share me. I can’t guarantee, stinking like I do, that I’d be able to make it to Leo’s place in time.

Cammie said he spoke to him. What had he said?

“He understands. He’s upset, but he’ll stay away. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

He’s safe. I hold onto that like a lifeline. That’s the main thing—Leo is safe.

I choke on a sob, and the sound reverberates around the tiled walls.

I’ve never been more grateful for Erasmus’s penchant for cocaine than I am tonight. I did three lines while Tristan did his best to make my face presentable. Cammie stood by for moral support but looked increasingly sick with how quickly my control was spooling away from me.

I was already wet, sweating, and wriggling around like I couldn’t sit still.

But discomforted or not, it’d been Cammie who’d gripped my shoulder, met my eyes, and said firmly, “It’s going to be all right.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up as I swayed in his hold. It most certainly wasn’t going to be all right, but I tried to nod for his benefit. Cammie hasn’t done this yet, and while I’m hardly the first omega he’s seen in this position, I am the first he’s probably seeing on the verge of a nervous breakdown while also simultaneously so desperate for my alpha’s cock I could cry.

I smile as best I can. He grimaces at me. Well, I tried.

Once we get downstairs, Erasmus marches in front of me, bodies parting to let him through. Tristan is beside me, holding me up. The pungent odour of too many alphas crowds me, and I try not to gag. Their desire ratchets up as I stumble along, and the part of me that can still think knows it’s my fault—what omega is this far gone at auction? I’m a fucking mess.

I inhale in short breaths, trying to find the one scent that will make me feel better. My eyes heat—he’s not here. But he’s safe, and that’s good. I got him safe.