Page 34 of Knot Their Starlet

Suppressants are made available to all omegas, free of charge, through the OCN. The only issue is that the medications they have only work effectively for female omegas. Since male omegas have only really been popping up in significant numbers recently, everyone is scrambling to find good alternatives.

An omega not on suppressants has their heat every three to four months. With the new trial suppressants I’m on, I get mine every six months.

And every six months, Eli and I spend a week locked away in my nest. Just like that first heat.

“What do you mean they haven’t worked?” Eli asks, his brows drawn down in concern. “They push back your heat, right? That’s been working properly.”

“They do, but—but—I don’t know. I thought that when I took them, I’d go back to normal. Before I presented.”

My chest feels too tight as I struggle to take a deep breath. Eli’s blood orange scent fills my lungs, the same as it’s been since he went into pre-awakening during puberty, giving me the courage to look up at him.

“Do you ever wish things went back to normal? To before I presented?” The edge of the spoon digs into my hand.

Eli freezes, his breath stuttering in his chest as his dark gaze roves across my face. I see the moment he recognizes that my question is so much deeper than it seems.

“No,” he says, shifting his weight and pressing his thigh harder into my own. “Never.”

“Really? Even though—I know—” The words get caught in my throat.

How the hell am I supposed to word to my best friend that I know that needing to take an alpha’s knot every six months makes our friendship complicated.

“I know—I know most alphas who volunteer or work at the OCN aren’t interested in knotting a male omega,” I say, my words coming out in a rushed, jumbled mess. “It’s why I’ve been denied at a lot of the centers I’ve tried. And I—I dunno, I just feel bad.”

“Nothing to feel bad about,” Eli murmurs, reaching out and squeezing the back of my neck, his thumb pressing into the tense muscles.

I let out an embarrassing little sigh of satisfaction.

“But you were never into guys, not like—not like me,” I say.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eli shrugs.

His words pierce straight through my heart. I move to push away from him on the bed, but I’m stopped by the hold he has on the back of my neck.

“I’m not finished.”

“Then finish,” I breathe out.

“That shit doesn’t matter to me. Because you needed my help. Need, if we count this⁠—”

“I’m sorry⁠—”

“Don’t fuckin’ apologize for shit like this. It’s your biology. You can’t help it. And I know how scary it was... I wasn’t going to let you go through that shit alone.”

My eyes flutter shut, and I let his words wash over me like a soothing balm.

With us pressed against each other on my bed, with a melting pint of my favorite ice cream, wrapped in a blanket that smells like him, I can pretend that everything is okay. That I can have the kind of relationship omegas dream about.

“I know I’ve been an ass about people finding out about us,” Eli mumbles. “I’m just terrified of what the media will do to you if they find out. I’m not—I’m not ashamed about our arrangement, you know.”

The cardboard carton of my ice cream bends under my grip. My next question about what the hell happened between us that night of the Grammys is on the tip of my tongue. But before I have a chance to ask it, we’re interrupted by the buzzing of my phone.

“Someone calling you?”

I shove my pint of ice cream into Eli’s hands as I scramble to the foot of my bed, picking up my phone to see it’s Andi’s number calling me back.

“It’s Andi!” I don’t think I can help the relieved grin that splits across my face if I tried.

I crawl back to my spot next to Eli and answer the call.