Chapter FourEvan
Chapter Four
Evan
B eat with a stand mixer until stiff peaks appear. I frowned at the recipe Wes’ sister had sent me. Not only was I a terrible cook, but I had no idea what a stand mixer was. Could I just mix it with a spoon? We probably had one of those handheld mixers somewhere…
“What are you doing, Love?” One of my alphas, Brennan, came up behind me, the scent of pine trees enveloping me right before his muscular arms wrapped around my waist.
“Hi, Handsome. Just failing to make Wes a cake. Proving, yet again, that I’m a shit omega.” I grinned. The stereotypical omega was a soft, tiny female that loved to cook and craft and stay home. I was a big dude, held down a job, and couldn’t cook worth a damn.
Brennan trailed kisses down my neck. “You’re kidding, right? Otherwise, I’m going to have to punish you for talking badly about yourself again.”
“I’m kidding.” I hummed as I felt his cock press into my backside. For a while, I’d lived in fear that some perfect little omega would steal my alphas from me. But it wasn’t like that anymore.
“Why are you making a cake, it’s not his birthday yet?” The kisses intensified, as Brennan focused on his bond mark at the base of my neck, making me shiver.
Brennan was the tallest in the pack–even taller than me. He was muscular and fit, but not broad. His black hair was neatly trimmed, pale face cleanly shaved, and those blue eyes always made me swoon.
“Wes has been having a bad day. I thought it would be nice to make his favorite. But, considering I have no idea what I’m doing, I might just cheer him up some other way instead.” I squirmed as Brennan’s hands roamed, threatening to distract me from my task. My cell phone on the counter rang.
“Leave it,” Brennan breathed in my ear, pressing harder into me.
I glanced over. “I’m on call, and it’s the Center. Which means I’ve got to take it. I’m sorry.” Pushing down the desire to let him take me to bed, I grabbed it. “This is Evan.”
“Hey, Evan, it’s Claire, I need an advocate,” she said.
I switched into work mode. “I’ll be right there, what do we have?”
“Sixteen-year-old omega that’s just awakened.
Mom’s insistent she gets matched immediately even though she isn’t of age–or anywhere near her first heat.
She won’t listen to the doctors. The girl’s agreeing with her mom, but I’m not sure that I believe her.
We’re a little overwhelmed here today, so I need you to come in and do your thing,” Claire said.
Matching a newly awakened sixteen-year-old? Yeah, not in this century.
“I’ll be right there.” I gave Brennan an apologetic kiss and straightened his tie. “It’s the usual. I’ll be back. You look handsome.”
Brennan sighed. “If you weren’t doing something important, I’d order you to stay home so I could take this suit off and miss my dinner.”
“Sure, you would.” I washed my hands and shoved my phone in my pocket, giving him a wink.
My guys respected me. They also understood my work. While there were plenty of laws to protect omegas, someone had to speak up for the ones too afraid, young, or na?ve to do it themselves.
“Don’t you have a party to attend with your parents tonight?” I added, given he was in a tux, feet bare.
He went to a lot of fancy events with his family. Often, Jett or I went with him. One thing about Brennan was that he looked good in everything.
Or nothing.
“Unfortunately. I can take you on my way there?” Brennan offered. “I know you can fend for yourself, but my Alpha instincts hate that you go off alone so much.”
Alphas had a thing about protecting people–especially their mates. However, unlike most omegas, I was alpha-sized and ex- military. I could take care of myself. But I understood their worry, and it made me feel loved, not suffocated.
“I’d like a ride. Thank you.” I started to clean up. “If Jett wants to stop by the Center after his shift with a caffeinated beverage and a ride home, I wouldn’t mind.”
Jett, being a beta and a police officer, could go places at the Center that Brennan couldn’t. I had a feeling I was going to need a pick-me-up after this case.
Traffic made it take longer than usual to get to Midtown.
The entire Center was surrounded by a large fence with a guard gate.
We primarily used delta security. Deltas were one of the rarer designations but made for great protectors since they were physically strong enough to stand up to alphas and weren’t going to be swayed by their bark, their alpha compulsion.
The best-known Center function was its matching program. Omegas could safely meet vetted packs and alphas, both for permanent bonding and to ease them through their heats if they weren’t ready to mate–or simply didn’t wish to.
Omegas were encouraged to register with their local Center after they awakened so that they could receive the healthcare they needed and get educated about their choices. Identified omegas that hadn’t awakened were welcome, and we had plenty of classes and activities for them, too.
When we pulled up on his motorcycle to the guard station, I flashed my badge and Brennan showed his ID. He drove me up to the staff entrance, which said Staff Only–No Alphas Allowed.
I took off my helmet and gave my well-appointed alpha a kiss. “Thank you for the ride. Have fun.”
Waving at the delta guard, I used my badge to get in and went to the main area the advocates used.
Claire was waiting for me and handed me a tablet. “Rose has gotten her checkup and bloodwork and is ready for you. I’ve separated her from her mother, but Mom’s getting impatient.”
“Suspicions?” I looked over the file.
“I’ll let you do your magic; she’s in room one.” Claire was middle-aged, her long braids swinging as she moved. Like me, she wore a pink Omega Center polo and a badge.
Every omega who came to the Center was eligible for an advocate, who regularly met with them and acted as a guide and educator.
Those under eighteen were legally required to have one.
They could also be legally appointed. Mostly, I worked with teenagers and young adults.
All our advocates were omegas or betas with omega family members.
We had degrees in social work and extensive training.
I might not be the advocate that stayed with her, but considering her age, I might.
The room Rose was in was cozy, like a little living room. Most of our spaces were designed to put omegas at ease. I watched through the window as the tiny, pretty, teenage redhead played a game on her phone.
I knocked and then opened the door. Immediately, the girl tensed, and I made note of her body language, and how she relaxed as soon as she scented that I was an omega and not the giant alpha I resembled.
“Hi Rose, I’m Evan Wilson, and I’m an advocate. How are you?” I smiled, trying to put her at ease.
“You’re an omega? You’re so big.” She had braces, her hair in a French braid, omega scent reminiscent of bubblegum.
While bloodwork could detect an omega during early puberty, an omega wasn’t considered mature until they awakened or ‘blossomed,’ which meant that special tinge to their scent that marked them as an omega came in, indicating that they were ready for their heat, their fertile cycles, to start.
Usually this happened during their late teens or early twenties.
Sixteen was pretty early, though not unheard of.
“I am. May I sit?” I asked.
Rose nodded. “I’ve never met a male omega. Is your alpha a man or a woman? Sorry, is that rude?”
“Not at all. Where are you from, Rose?” I asked. Male omegas weren’t nearly as rare as they used to be.
“A small town you’ve never heard of. It’s a pretty long drive. Mama said the alphas would be better here.”
While there was no law that said you couldn’t go to another Center, and people came to us from all over since we were a regional center, something about her words made warning bells go off in my head.
“My pack’s all guys. Want to see?” I pulled up a picture on my phone. A client’s reaction to them always offered me insights.
“Ooh, they’re so big. I can have more than one alpha?” She giggled as if the idea was scandalous. “They’re so cute.”
Huh. Packs were pretty common, especially in cities. My guess was that she was from farm country. Probably to the east of us, where the beta populations were thick and alphas and omegas were rarer. North was ranch country, which tended to have more packs.
“You can absolutely have more than one. Which one do you like best? I won’t get jealous or tell.” I grinned back. That, too, offered insight.
Of course, she could be from the west of us, where there were a lot of fundies. They thought packs were a way to control the population, and every alpha having an omega of their own was divine right.
“Him.” She pointed to Wes, with his dimples.
“Good choice. Tell me about you, you’re sixteen? What’s your favorite subject in school?” I asked, trying to get the conversation going.
Rose told me all about school, her friends, and her hopes and dreams–like wanting to be a surgeon.
“You know, omega doctors are really needed, and not just in the Centers,” I told her.
She frowned, salty sadness in her scent, as her shoulders slumped. “My mom says I can’t be a doctor now.”
“No? Why?” I frowned. There were no laws stopping her.
“She…” Rose sighed. “She pulled me out of high school. Said my omega scent was a distraction to the other students. But if I don’t graduate, I can’t go to a university, and if I don’t do that, I can’t go to medical school.
She said that once I have babies, I won’t have time for school or a serious job.
We were going to cheer nationals.” She wilted, her scent going sour.
So much to unpack there. Between science and laws, the days of omegas having to stay home were long gone. Not to mention legally, she had to be in school until she was eighteen.
“I know plenty of omegas with kids and careers. If you want to stay home, go for it. But there’s no reason not to work if you’re cautious,” I told her. “Why doesn’t your mom enroll you in an omega school?”
While nowadays most schools handled all designations, some omegas thrived in all-omega environments. These schools usually had competitive academic programs and classes about omega physiology and psychology. Some even facilitated job placements and pack matches.
“We can’t afford it. I…” She chewed on her lower lip. “I’m hoping I’ll get an indulgent alpha who will let me finish school and attend a university. My sister thinks that’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb at all. But you don’t have to get matched right away.
You’re sixteen. We can put you on suppressants so you don’t go into heat, get you scent and pheromone blockers, educate you on everything happening to your body, and outline all of your choices.
Most importantly, you can finish school–and attend a university.
Plenty of omegas do just that. You know, my packmate has a foundation with scholarships for young omegas at one of the local omega schools.
With all those advanced classes you take, I bet your grades would qualify you for it.
I’m not sure if they have cheer, but they have some sort of competitive dance team.
Do you want me to push it through?” I asked, hating the idea that she’d been pulled out of school.
“Could you really?” Excitement danced in her eyes.
“I can and will.” I disliked seeing omegas’ options taken away from them for non-reasons.
Her head bowed, as her scent continued to have a salty tinge. “My mom would be mad. It’s my duty to get matched as soon as possible.”
More warning bells. Hmm. Why would she want that?
An old practice was where alphas paid the omega’s family a fee. Now, packs gave their omegas money or assets of their own so that they would have security and independence if they needed or wanted it.
“I’m not your mom’s advocate, I’m yours. Think about it. Now, how do you feel? Was there anything that you think might have brought it on?” Sometimes omegas awakened early during traumatic events because they hoped an alpha would save them.
She shook her head. “No, I was at cheer practice; I’m a flyer.
I felt fine. The day before I’d even had a physical.
Coach got me into the locker room and called my mom.
I was surprised, because the prick-test I had in middle school said that I was a beta.
My mom says she wasn’t surprised given how small I am. ”
The scenario she described was perfectly reasonable because the basic blood test, the prick-test, that most kids had in middle school wasn’t always accurate.
Something still didn’t sit right with me.
“Do you have a significant other?” I asked her, looking for answers. Maybe she was getting romantic with an alpha partner, and her body got overexcited. I saw that a lot.
She shook her head. Okay, not that then.
I asked a few more questions about her life, then I stood. “How about if I get us a snack?”
Rose grinned. “I’d like that, thank you.”
I left, noting that she didn’t ask about her mom.
Claire watched us through the window. I left the room and joined her.
“Have another workup done–and keep her mom away for the time being. I want to make sure she didn’t drug her teenager,” I told Claire.
There were some drugs, both legal and illegal, that could push a beta on the edge of being an omega over–or make an unblossomed omega awaken.
“Really? Shit.” Claire grimaced.
“There’s just too many things that make it feel similar to what happened outside Rock Springs a couple of years ago. We should probably alert some local Centers in case this isn’t isolated,” I added.
“Good catch. That’s why I called you. I am curious why they came all the way here,” Claire added.
“Me, too. Given her school can’t handle her, I recommend that she be sent to Finchley and can start considering matches no sooner than after graduation.” I made notes in her file. Even that was early.
“Brennan just loves you offering scholarships to Finchley,” Claire told me.
My alpha wouldn’t argue with a teenager getting an education–and away from a potentially harmful family. There weren’t many good reasons to match your teenager.
“After my talk with her mom, and speaking with the doctor and the intake counselor, I was getting the idea that Rose should be made a ward of the Center and sent to school so mom doesn’t take her elsewhere, so I agree with your recommendation.
Sixteen and they want her to be matched.
Not in her dreams.” Claire shook her head.
I nodded, glad my boss agreed. “Okay, let’s get this rolling. I’m going to get her a snack.”