Gold Rush (Golden Omegaverse #1)

Chapter 3 – June

CHAPTER THREE

JUNE

“I apologize, Miss Walden, we normally…” The director of the London Designation Center shuffles her papers, looking down at them with wide eyes. “Well, we normally deal with the parents of the omegas who seek our services.”

Because most omegas aren’t seen as legal adults in the eyes of any government. Because most omegas have their ownership transferred from their parents to their first bonded alpha after being bitten. Because omegas should not be a nearly thirty year-old woman, sitting in a tiny room functioning as a doctor’s office as a beta doctor eyes her like a medical marvel.

The blood sample in front of me is still wet, as is the tip of my pricked finger. Red blood oozes out, but when it catches the light there’s a golden shimmer to it that can’t be faked.

I’m an omega.

There’s a stack of pamphlets next to me, all in bright, cheerful colors, meant to… I don’t know — lessen the blow of being told you’re a second-class citizen? One of the titles is SO YOU’RE AN OMEGA: WHAT TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR FIRST HEAT and the sheer concept of a heat makes me want to start hyperventilating.

Biologically the differences between omegas and everyone else are that, for some reason, they often have a fertility spike anywhere from three to four times a year, following a cycle. It happens in all omegas, regardless of their gender identity, and the symptoms the pamphlet clued me onto included: shivering, shaking, vomiting, nausea, stomach issues, headaches, sensitivity to sounds, smells, and lights, increased libido, and overall increased fertility — among many, many other possible symptoms.

I’ve already been shuffled back and forth to multiple rooms in the center, constantly aided by one of the workers. So far, I’ve not seen anyone other than betas — and I’m assuming it’s because they don’t know what to do with me. Designation Centers are glorified office buildings at the end of the day, they’re neutral places for omegas to meet alphas and packs — not house newly emerging freaks of nature.

All the rooms smell sterile, like they’ve been sprayed with hundreds of layers of disinfectants. The doctor already told me that my natural perfume is soft — its honeyed tea scent following me every time I enter the room. Though it’s bitter now, leaving a bad taste in my mouth as I stare at the organizer in front of me as she looks up from her stack of papers.

“I’ll be right back, Miss Walden.” She’s out of the door before I can ask her why she’s leaving again, and I look over at the doctor, exhaustion making me sink back on the table.

The doctor glances at the door before stepping forward, giving me a concerned look. “I’m not sure what they’re going to be able to offer you here. I don’t think they expected anything like this to occur.” Her accent is soft, tone almost motherly as she looks me over. “I’m really concerned what this level of stress will do to you, biologically.”

I blink at her, “I need…” I trail off, shaking my head, “I need the truth, I guess. What am I supposed to do ? I’m not taking my birth control out.” It was the first suggestion from the center’s coordinator and I balked at the other woman like she had three heads.

Because telling me I’m about to be incredibly fertile, suggesting I take out my birth control, and meet with total strangers who will sleep with me during the week I’m out of my mind — that sounds like my own personal hell. I actually think I’d take a thousand airports over that.

The doctor glares. “No, you are not . I have no authority to remove your birth control, Miss Walden.” She looks at me seriously. “And neither does anyone else. You’re lucky, this is the same dosage we sometimes put omegas on. It shouldn’t affect anything with this heat, other than keeping you safe from pregnancy. The designation breakthrough happened because the hormones were unprepared to manage it, and it wasn’t combined with blockers.” She clears her throat. “Don’t let a single person at the center insist that you need to remove it, or a pack for that matter. You have the right to your own choice.”

My heart clenches in my chest as I nod at her, glancing at the door. Someone mentioned alphas, packs , because if I go into a first heat without an alpha nearby to help ease the symptoms, it could cause irreparable damage. The high temperatures begin to wreck omega’s immune systems and bodies if the heats aren’t tended to by an alpha — thus the need for at least one alpha to be with an omega during each heat cycle.

Most of the Designation Centers function as glorified matchmaking services. Very few are funded privately, most receiving grants and government assistance to provide services that keep a list of alphas and their scents for new omegas to look through and find a match. What no one ever said to me was that most alphas pay to be listed with the centers, keeping a subscription in hopes one day they get a call that an omega is interested to meet them.

Because while alphas don’t have heats, or anything that would make them a burden to society like omegas are — they do have an innate urge to take care of others. It’s why so many of them find themselves at the top of businesses or people of status. Alphas, unquestionably, function as leaders , even if all of them don’t have personalities suited for the roles.

I signed two sheets of paper when I walked into the center — one non-disclosure agreement confirming I refused to have my information given out to any of the press currently knocking on the center’s doors, and one waiving my permission for the center to run the necessary tests to figure out why this was happening.

The doctor in front of me frowns. “I need you to know that?—”

The center coordinator chooses that moment to reappear, looking slightly less harried than before. Half a step behind her is another woman, her silvery blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail as she holds out a cup of coffee to me. I take it eagerly — I’m not sure what time it is exactly, but I’ve been here for hours and no one will tell me when I can go back to my hotel room.

“Miss Walden.” The coordinator smiles at me, but there’s something slightly off about her expression. “I’m sure this has been a very chaotic evening for you, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to be the one who breaks this news.”

Staring at her, I clutch the coffee a little tighter, acid on my tongue as I glance at the other three women in the room. “What news?”

The coordinator’s smile falters, just a bit . “Because you’re not technically an omega who falls under the protections set forth by any of the country’s governing bodies… because of your… age,” she clarifies with a wince. “I’m afraid I can’t let you access our paid database of alphas, packs, and scents.” Her lips press together, back into the same faux smile. “You are both not a client, and have no authorized guardian who can facilitate the meetings.”

The lid pops off the rim as I squeeze the cup. “I’m sorry?”

The coordinator glances to the side, looking at the woman next to her before looking back at me. “Well… you really shouldn’t exist , so procedures don’t exist for you.”

“Okay.” I swallow, exhaling with a little, hysterical laugh. “Okay, I’m just going to go back to my hotel?—”

“Miss Walden.” The coordinator stops me, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, but you also can’t do that. Or fly back to America.”

I blink as my hand shakes.

“This close to a heat, an omega is legally prohibited from air travel, at the risk of sending an alpha into a rut. It’s a great risk to anyone you might come into contact with.” The coordinator winces. “And your hotel has contacted us and said they are no longer comfortable having an omega stay in a room as they don’t have the proper ways to accommodate a guest with your needs.”

The unspoken words float in the air — the hotel can’t risk legally having me stay — if I go into my first heat, it would cause utter chaos for their other guests.

“So…” I stare at her. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

At this, she forces another smile. “I am making the executive decision that you can stay here, temporarily , until I’m able to contact some packs in the morning who might be willing to waive their prior age ranges and meet with you. All packs, currently, have only agreed to meet with omegas under twenty-five.”

Because twenty-five is the oldest omega to ever emerge. Except for me.

“And I can’t leave.” I say the words softly, my eyes falling on the doctor.

The doctor shakes her head. “I would be concerned about your safety if you were to leave this facility without a proper place to stay.”

It feels like my world comes crashing down as I sit on the little table, clutching the coffee so hard that it spills over the edge, the lukewarm liquid dripping down my wrist.

“Can I…” I look at the coordinator. The last thing I want is to meet with strangers, to be… paired up with strangers before I go into a heat where all I’ll want is to be fucked . “Can I think about this?”

She balks. “Your first heat should hit in two weeks. You don’t have time to wait, Miss Walden.”

“What about suppressants?” I grasp at straws, looking over at the doctor.

She shakes her head at me. “Since you are experiencing symptoms, they likely wouldn’t do anything. I’m sorry, Juniper.”

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me as I nod. “Okay.” Licking my lips, I look over at the coordinator. “Can I… Is there somewhere I can lay down for a while?”

Her expression softens a little. She nods, moving to the side as the other woman with her opens the door. “You can stay in my office, I have a couch in there.”

It’s better than nothing — which, coincidentally, is my only other option.

Someone posted about my signing on social media.

It’s a call from Janet that wakes me from a fitful sleep on the office couch two and a half hours later, sunlight already streaming in through the transparent curtains, the sound of London’s morning traffic filling the space. She’s frantic , but I answer her questions as best as I can. At some point, someone must have brought my suitcase in — because the single carry-on is sitting against a wall, everything I have with me in a foreign country as I tell my agent that yes — my designation emerged late, I’m an omega, and no, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing about it.

I’ve already texted my parents multiple times, but when I finally get off the phone with Janet, there’s only a single text from my mother that makes my nausea and headache return tenfold.

Mom

This is embarrassing, Juniper. Please stop texting me, you were born a beta, and you’re too old to be behaving like this for attention.

I don’t know why I expected anything else, but it still hurts.

A knock on the door startles me, and the same blonde beta from last night steps in. “Hey, I wasn’t sure if you were awake.” She shuts the door quickly, coming around to lean against the coordinator’s desk, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m Laura, normally I do whatever Denise tells me to — but last night I…” She shakes her head, staring at me. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t even fathom being in your place. Are you okay?”

It’s a loaded question, and it makes my throat tighten as I sit up and push my slightly greasy hair back. I regret not taking a shower yesterday before the signing, because now that I don’t have access to one, I keep thinking about how nice hot water would feel.

“Honestly?” I look over at her. She’s slightly rumpled and it makes me feel better about my own shitty appearance. “No?”

Laura nods. “Okay, what if I said that Denise just left, but I have some files of the alphas who might want to meet you. Would you want to look at them? I can get them right now and maybe you won’t have to spend another night in here.”

I glance around the office and then nod. “If they’re my only option, then yeah.”

She perks up and then slips back out. I hear her heels clicking quickly before she returns, a small stack of file folders in her hands. There can’t be more than thirty files, nowhere near what I expected, but still — they’re options .

Laura sits on the couch next to me and then hands me the top one, her voice soft. “I might have met some of them, I can tell you if they seemed nice?”

The kindness in her voice makes my eyes sting as I nod and open the first folder.

The sun is already starting to go down as we near the end of the pile, and it’s only taken this long because Laura stepped out and came back with more files.

There’s three stacks, one of potential alphas who are in town and willing to meet short notice, one stack of files I’ve not looked at yet, and the stack of strangers I don’t want to meet. I’ve tried not to be picky — since I can’t really afford to be. The information packets are full of things I would never have expected, from who employs the alpha, to a little scent card in a sealed packet that I can open and take a whiff of.

The swirling scents have given me a headache. So many of them smell so strong. One alpha’s scent was bad enough I gagged and pushed the file into Laura’s hands just to get it away from my nose.

She’s been beside me most of the day, even when Denise came into the office with an armload of files and a quiet comment that these were the only alphas or packs willing to meet with me. I don’t think a simple thank you will be enough to either of them, but I’ve tried to say the words multiple times today.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror earlier and wanted to fling myself out a window. My hair is a greasy mess, the makeup from my signing all wiped off between getting to the center and sleeping on the couch, and the nice trousers and blouse I’d worn last night are beyond creased. I finally gave in and changed into clean leggings and a sweatshirt, even though I want a shower.

I close the file in my lap and shake my head, putting it in the stack of other rejected options.

Beside me, Laura hesitates with her hand on the next one, sucking in a little breath. “Why don’t we slip out?”

“What?” I look over at her, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I couldn’t leave.”

“Well” — she glances at the door — “security change should be happening soon, and we could use a side door and go to a cafe like… two blocks away.” Her words are rushed. “And I’m kind of worried if you don’t eat something other than the vending machine snacks, you’ll start to throw up again.” I survey the wreckage of chip bags and cans of soda, all plain because it’s the only thing I’ve been able to keep down today.

Looking back at Laura, I nod quickly. “Okay, cafe, let’s go.”

She darts out of the room and then comes back with a spray bottle in her hands. Lifting it, she presses the nozzle, dousing me in a continuous stream that makes my eyes water. It’s like being covered in window cleaner — mixed with bleach. The moment she steps back, she inhales deeply. “I can’t smell your natural perfume. This should last us long enough to get there and back.”

I trust her, because she’s my only option, and throw on my jacket before following her out of the room and down a flight of stairs, sliding out a side door after her keycard unlocks it. Reporters have apparently been camped out at the front of the building all day , just hoping to get a glimpse of me, or have Denise answer questions about the ‘ old omega .’

I try to ignore the unflattering name as I hustle to keep up with Laura, talking quietly as she navigates the sidewalks of London. “I think we can expect you to meet with two or three packs in the morning, maybe you can stay with one of them through this first heat and then go home?”

I did manage to get a representative on the phone from the American Embassy earlier, who confirmed that legally they couldn’t risk moving me out of the country until the heat passes. I feel like everyone is treating me with kid gloves — telling me in no-uncertain terms that making my own decisions is not an option anymore.

She tugs open the door to a little cafe and I step in, inhaling the smell of coffee and pastries, my stomach immediately growling.

Laura looks back at me, her lips twitching. “Order what you want to go. We’ll get back before anyone comes looking for you.”

I flash her a chagrined look before stepping up to the counter. The door said the cafe is closing in only twenty minutes, so I feel a little bad as I scan the remaining fresh options, trying to find something that doesn’t make my stomach full of potato chips churn.

The bell on the door behind me chimes and I feel the chilly wind as it ruffles my hair.

“We’ll find you someone decent from the stack of packs.” Laura’s voice is soft as she looks at me. “I promise. There are a lot of alphas who don’t want something traditional.”

I point to a pastry quickly, wrapping my arms around myself as I order a hot tea from the barista. Nothing that comes to my mind seems like the appropriate response to her statement. Of course I’m not a traditional option — I’m nearly thirty, don’t want children, refuse to remove my birth control, and have no interest in sleeping with strangers for a week.

So I say nothing and step back to give Laura some room.

Only, the second I do, I crash back into someone else .

Something rattles as it drops to the floor. “Whoa.” The voice is familiar, and olive-tan hands grab onto my arms, steadying me as I fumble and whirl around, looking at the man behind me. I glance down, taking in the bag of coffee beans before looking up again, unable to comprehend it as I blink.

It’s Seth . Elevator Seth. The Seth who sat on the floor with me while I had a panic attack two nights ago. The Seth with a bite mark on his shoulder — only his alpha is nowhere to be found as he stares at me, his hazel eyes wide.

“I — You —”

His hands are still on my arms. Their warmth seeps through my coat, my sweatshirt, searing into me as my brain ceases function. I flush and the spray has no hope to combat my body’s reaction.

It’s pure biology.

Home . An instinctive, bone-deep feeling settles in my chest as our eyes connect. It’s like I’ve known him my entire life — but this is only the second time we’ve ever crossed paths.

His brown eyes widen as my perfume blooms in the small cafe, the smell of honey and tea curling around us. I’m rewarded with the parting of his full lips as a whiff of chocolate fudge comes from him, overpowering the other light scents clinging to his clothes.

Seth blinks as Laura grabs my shoulder, her voice tight. “Let’s go .”

I stumble to the side with her, taking my tea and pastry as she shoves them in my hands.

It’s terrifying — concerning — how much I want to stay when he looks at me, his voice croaking, “Wait —”

Laura tugs the door open, dragging me out of the cafe as he stares. She pushes me a few paces down the sidewalk. “Thank god he was only a beta, we need to get back before any alphas smell you.” Her eyes scan the road, frantic and on-edge, and I almost feel bad as I look over my shoulder, contemplating running away from her.

The cafe door is shut, and a part of me prays for another glimpse of the man — only a beta — that I just left behind.