18. Harsh Realities For A Forgotten Omega
Harsh Realities For A Forgotten Omega
~ELIZABETH~
C arter's grip on my hand is almost painful as he pulls me through the crowded hallway, but I don't complain. His fingers are warm against mine, protective rather than possessive after our encounter with James.
Which I’m still reminiscing over.
It’s obvious we’ve changed as individuals. Five years went by, when we took our separate routes, even if it seemed forced, but I can’t regret my decision to leave that world behind.
Remaining would have simply encouraged that open wound to rot, decay, and leave me on a path straight to death.
I don’t know how he feels about seeing me again, but the reality is, we’ll be walking different paths here. He’ll continue along his as an Alpha who needs to find an Omega that best suits him, while I’ll have to find a pack that can keep me around long enough to be deemed “worthy” at this forbidden sanctuary of burdens and outcasts.
The whispers follow us like shadows as fellow students who’ve recognized me for my reputable “Forgotten Omega” status see the very obvious Alpha bringing me along to who knows where.
"Is that Giovanni?"
"With the Forgotten One?"
"No way..."
"I heard she..."
I guess some would know who Carter is.
In fact, it dawns on me now, that here at Knot Academy, it doesn’t matter if you’re an ex-convict, an assassin, or a mafia drug lord. You’re protected by default, meaning you can’t be arrested, charged, or haunted within these walls. It’s usually why we have different sections because each wing at Knot Academy carries its own set of dangers.
Hard Knot is exactly that.
Tedious situations that force you to overcome them.
Whether that’s physical challenges, intellectual debates, or turmoiling consequences you’ll have to pull yourself out of because no one outside of your pack is responsible for your salvation.
Or demise.
"We could take another route," I suggest quietly, watching heads turn as we pass. A group of freshman Omegas practically plaster themselves against the lockers to let us by, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
"This route is perfectly fine," Carter replies, his tone brooking no argument. His jaw is still set in that hard line that appeared when James mentioned our shared past. The tension radiates off him in waves, making other students scramble to get out of our path.
We round the corner toward the main office where Felix had texted us to meet. The polished wooden door is slightly ajar, voices drifting out into the hallway. When we enter the office, we have to further head down a hallway, the last office on the right side is slightly open while the one next to it at the end has its door wide open.
I recognize Felix's measured tones and Holmes's deeper rumble, along with a third voice I don't immediately place.
Carter reaches for the door handle but freezes as the unknown voice states something none of us are expecting.
"Abercrombie isn't a suitable candidate for your pack."
My heart stutters in my chest.
Carter's hand tightens around mine as we both go still, listening in.
I hear Felix sigh — that particular sound like he's trying to maintain his patience.
"And why would that be?"
"Well," the voice, which I now recognize as Administrator Phillips, continues with an air of practiced condescension, "as you can see from her file, she's been here for five years. None of the packs that showed interest met her... standards." He says the word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "She's obviously a rebel and seems content to remain that way until we have to dismiss her at the end of the year."
My body goes rigid at his words.
D-Dismiss? When…was it mentioned I’d be dismissed?
I hadn’t finished reading the forms so maybe it was mentioned there, but if that’s the case, fuck.
I don’t just need to find a pack. I HAVE to if I’m going to make it to the end of the year.
Hard Knot Semesters are like any other school. In this case, September to December is the first semester. It’s shorter compared to January to June Semester which leads to summer vacation, because it’s meant to encourage initial Omegas to swiftly find their Alphas and leave before the holiday break.
That’s the normal circumstance that happens.
They’re not like me who seems compatible with no one.
Carter's thumb strokes across my knuckles, a silent gesture of support, but I barely feel it through the rush of adrenaline flooding my system.
"What exactly does 'dismiss' mean?" Holmes asks, his voice carrying that dangerous edge I've come to recognize from a few phone calls he made this morning in the car. It’s threatening and yet a tone that analyzes his options.
Either way, he’s not immediately pushing away the idea…
Which means…
Phillips sighs, and I can perfectly picture him adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses — a nervous habit he displays when he's about to say something particularly unpleasant but must do for the sake of his “position”.
I’m sure right now though, he’s enjoying this.
He hates my guts.
"Obviously, cut off the block." He pauses to emphasize his point. "Though she has the looks, so she'll likely be offered to the government first. They can decide if she's better suited for laboratory services or...alternative placement."
My blood runs cold as his meaning becomes clear. Carter's grip becomes almost crushing, but I welcome the pain.
It helps ground me as Phillips continues.
"There are always Alphas deemed...unsuitable for regular society. They need Omegas too, even if they can only come out at night and with certain conditions put in place. You know…restraints…and such."
"So," Felix's voice cuts through the air like a blade, "you're telling me this academy actively encourages the slaughter or sexual exploitation of its students?" A harsh laugh follows. "You're literally admitting to facilitating murder and sex trafficking."
Phillips makes a dismissive sound.
"That's rather dramatic. It's simply how the system works. If she'd found a suitable pack earlier, it wouldn't have come to this point."
"We're here," Felix counters, his tone sharp. "We're interested. So what exactly is the problem? Because we've made it clear we're not accepting Victoria."
"Ah, Ms. Sinclair." Phillips's voice takes on an almost reverent quality. "Now there's an Omega who knows how to perform. Her credentials are impeccable, her family connections are valuable, and her...enthusiasm for the position is admirable."
"Perform?" Holmes questions, something deadly lurking beneath his casual tone. "Define that."
Phillips chuckles — a wet, ugly sound that makes my skin crawl.
"Well, you know how it is. A girl like that, so...eager to please. She knows exactly when to speak and when to use her mouth for...other purposes."
You got to be kidding me.
Just the idea of her daring to do anything “sexual” for Advisor Phillips makes me want to puke. Where’s the form of commitment when you’re willing to suck anyone who will give you what you want.
That rubs me the wrong way.
"Let me get this straight," Felix says, and I can hear the barely contained rage in his voice. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting him to be mad. I mean, we’ve barely had time with one another aside from me giving him a drunken lap dance. "You want us to accept some bitch who dropped to her knees and did whatever it took to orchestrate this setup?"
Carter's free hand curls into a fist at his side.
I can feel him trembling with the effort it takes not to burst through the door.
"Ms. Sinclair understands what it takes to succeed in our society," Phillips replies smoothly. "Unlike some of our more...rebellious students, she appreciates the natural order of things. The hierarchy that keeps our world functioning."
"The hierarchy," Felix repeats flatly. "You mean the system that lets you abuse your position to extort sexual favors from desperate Omegas?"
"Now, now," Phillips says, his tone patronizing. "There's no need to be crude. Ms. Sinclair simply showed proper appreciation for my assistance in her application process. She's very...grateful for opportunities."
The implication hangs heavy in the air, making bile rise in my throat.
Carter's entire body has gone rigid beside me, his breathing shallow and controlled the way it gets right before he's about to do something violent.
"And Abercrombie?" Holmes asks suddenly. "Has she shown any such...appreciation?"
My heart stops for a moment. The mere thought makes me want to throw up and never walk near this office again. The idea Holmes would even suggest such makes me even angrier. I have to mentally convince myself that he still doesn’t know me. He has no clue about my past or my level of commitment. I’ve proven nothing to him. Well, aside from being good at sucking his cock just to make his “ex” jealous.
Phillips’ laugh cuts through my internal turmoil.
"That one? No, she's always been too proud for her own good. Thinks she's above the natural order just because she can dance pretty and quote Shakespeare." His voice hardens. "But they all learn eventually. One way or another."
"Is that a threat?" Felix's voice has dropped to that dangerous register that I’m positive usually precedes to someone getting hurt.
"Simply an observation," Phillips replies smoothly. "The system exists for a reason. Those who refuse to adapt...well, they tend to disappear. One might even say it's natural selection at work."
The casual way he discusses my potential fate — as if he's talking about culling livestock rather than sentencing someone to death or worse — makes something snap inside me.
We’re nothing but ticket numbers. When our time is up and our number is drawn, we’re thrown into the trash…where we belong.
All in the name of “natural” order.
Before Carter can stop me, I push the door open fully.
The scene freezes like a tableau: Phillips behind his massive desk, Felix standing with his arms crossed while Holmes leans against the wall, his blindfold catching the fluorescent light. They all turn toward the sound of the door, and I see the moment Phillips realizes I've heard everything.
His face goes pale, then red, and settles into a sickly grey color that would be amusing under different circumstances.
"Ms. Abercrombie," he starts, but I cut him off with a laugh that sounds foreign even to my own ears. “We were just?—”
"Please," I say, letting five years of buried rage and bitterness color my voice, "don't let me interrupt your discussion about my future. Or lack thereof.”
Carter moves behind me like an approaching storm, his presence electric and dangerous. I can feel the rage radiating off him in waves as he forces himself to take a seat rather than act on whatever violent impulses are making his fists clench at his sides.
His entire body trembles with barely contained fury, and for a moment, I'm grateful he's choosing restraint.
Even if part of me wants to see Phillips suffer.
"When did you arrive?" Holmes asks, his head tilted slightly in our direction.
"Does it matter?" I keep my voice deliberately light, though each word feels like ground glass in my throat. "I was just focused on signing the usual documents. You know, the ones that remind me of my place in this hierarchy you're all so fond of."
I turn to Phillips, channeling five years of practiced indifference into my expression.
"I assume I'm not needed for the remainder of this conversation, since I'm clearly not eligible to be their pack's Omega, right?"
Felix looks over his shoulder, his tech-enhanced glasses catching the fluorescent light.
"Elizabeth, wait. We're working things out. This can be fixed?—"
"Fixed?"
The word tastes bitter on my tongue.
"I'm not something that needs fixing, Felix. I'm not going to suddenly start playing by their rules just because you three showed up." I shake my head, feeling something crack inside my chest. "If Victoria is your chosen Omega, so be it. Knot Academy was never ready to accept someone like me anyway."
The truth of those words hits harder than I expected.
Five years of being the outsider, the rebel, the forgotten one — and for what?
To end up here, listening to my fate being discussed like a business transaction?
I glance at Holmes, half expecting him to say something — anything — but he remains silent, his blindfold an impenetrable barrier between us.
"I have a class to attend," I announce, already turning toward the door.
"Elizabeth, wait—" Carter starts, but his words die as a familiar figure appears in the doorway.
Victoria stands there in all her manufactured glory, but something's different.
You got to be fucking kidding me.
My laugh comes out sharp and surprised as I realize what's changed.
"Wow," I say, taking in her newly platinum blonde hair. "Didn't think you'd stoop so low in jealousy that you'd actually try to become me." I step closer, letting my own natural blonde locks brush past her as I lean in to whisper, "A shame. I still rock it better."
She stiffens, her perfectly manicured hands clenching.
"Holmes will be pleased with the change."
Another laugh escapes me, this one edged with genuine amusement despite the situation.
Time to be the bigger bitch in this suffocating room.
"Well, that's a shame," I say loud enough for everyone to hear. "Since he can't actually see it, can he?"
It's mean, unnecessarily cruel even, but I'm past caring.
The weight of everything; the overheard conversation, the years of isolation, the brief taste of hope that these three Alphas represented. It all comes crashing down, leaving me raw and bitter.
"Move," I tell Victoria, already stepping forward.
She doesn't budge.
Instead, her lips curl into a triumphant smile as she turns to Phillips.
"Sir, shouldn't Miss Abercrombie be made aware that once I'm officially the pack's Omega, she won't be permitted to associate with them?"
The rage that's been simmering beneath my skin threatens to boil over.
Of course , this meeting was pre-arranged.
Of course, Victoria would be here, ready to watch my final humiliation.
The mere idea of not being able to go near Carter makes my heart sink in dread. All that chemistry, the build-up, the sex… god…the sex… All of that is going up in flames because I’m not good enough to be an Omega for anyone.
I really am a Forgotten Omega…
It’s hard to fight the tears that beg to form in my eyes, but I fight against it with every last bit of restraint I can muster.
They don’t deserve my tears.
They haven’t earned the right to see me at my lowest.
I’ve been through worse scenarios.
Chained…and forced…to do things all because of being this damn thing this world obsesses over when it gives them pleasure and solitude.
At this rate, I may be better off dismissed.
Death may have to be the only option to be free from this constant cycle of disappointment and mockery.
The idea really leaves a layer of dread that consumes me. The fact that I have to think of the end to free me into an afterlife that may bring me to a state where I’ll have a new beginning.
Wherever we go after death…
Phillips clears his throat, adjusting his tie.
"Actually, there's a matter we need to discuss before finalizing any contracts. It's why I reached out to you earlier, Ms. Sinclair."
The way he says it — like this was all orchestrated, all planned without my knowledge — makes me want to scream.
Another example of decisions being made about my life without my input.
"Despite their...impressive standings in society," Phillips continues, his eyes darting nervously between the Alphas, "Your chosen Alphas have a few ‘bounties’ on their head. Each bounty takes away points from their overall score with the government, which has left them at 190. The range must be between 300 which is the bare minimum and 500 which is the top-tier status in all wings of Knot Academy. The pack is short 110 points to qualify as a secured unit for the bare minimum."
His words hang in the air for a moment before he delivers the final blow.
"They'll need to take a fourth Alpha."
The silence that follows is deafening.
My mind spins, trying to process this new information through the haze of betrayal and anger. All this time, all these games — and none of it even mattered.
The system was rigged from the start.
I feel Carter's eyes on me, heavy with something that might be regret or might be pity. Felix has gone completely still, his usual restless energy frozen in shock.
And Holmes...Holmes just stands there.
Silent and untouchable behind his blindfold.
The laugh that bubbles up from my chest is hollow, empty of everything except bitter acknowledgment.
"Well," I say, impressed by how steady my voice remains, "isn't that convenient? You get your perfect, obedient Victoria, and you still have room for one more male to appease her…submissive ways. I’m sure this will be the perfect balance to ensure she’s performing to her best ability to please all of you." I pause and look at Phillips. “Hell, I’m sure Advisor Phillips can give you all a helping hand. I mean, he’s tested out the object in question. You know, to prove Victoria’s grand attributes as an outstanding Omega.”
The dig hits its mark; Victoria's face flushes red while Phillips shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
"Elizabeth," Carter says softly, a warning in his tone. He’s already out of his chair, and I know he wants to approach me from how his hand is reaching out for me to pause in whatever spiraling thoughts I’m thinking about, but that tone just sets me off.
I'm beyond warnings…beyond caring about consequences.
Five years of carefully constructed walls are crumbling, and I'm too tired to try holding them up anymore.
I’m tired of all of this.
"No," I cut him off, my voice sharp. "Don't try to explain or justify this. I get it now. Why Holmes never bothered even trying to know me outside of my name. Why you all play along with this farce." The words pour out, hot and bitter like poison. "It was never about finding the right Omega. It was about meeting quotas and points and maintaining your precious hierarchy."
Felix starts to stand.
"Elizabeth wait! We’re not even involved in this shit. That's not?—"
"Save it," I snap. "I don't need your explanations or your pity. I've survived five years in this hellhole without a pack. I can survive whatever comes next, and if that’s death. Fine! Kill me. At least maybe I’ll finally be at peace."
Even if 'next' means disappearing into the system they've so carefully designed to silence rebels like me... permanently. I’ll be ready to face it like the badass bitch I am.
There’s a hint of happiness knowing I’ll die a rebel.
I never conformed to the likes of this fucked up society.
Victoria's smile has turned predatory, triumphant.
She thinks she's won, that she's finally seeing the Forgotten One break.
She has no idea.
I straighten my spine, channeling every ounce of defiance I've cultivated over the years.
"Congratulations on your new pack, Victoria. I'm sure you'll perform admirably for them." I let my gaze drift meaningfully to Phillips. "You certainly have the practice. Keep sucking cock seeing as your Alphas probably don’t need someone committed to only three. Oh. I mean four. Good luck finding a fourth hole to fill. Though, your mouth is pretty big. I’m sure you can do a nice two-for-one fit."
The slap comes fast, but I'm faster — years of training in defense and other areas of protection making it easy to step back just enough that her hand barely grazes my cheek.
"Temper, temper," I tsk, watching her face contort with rage. "That's not very proper behavior for a pack Omega, is it?"
"You little—" she starts, but I'm already pushing past her. I use enough force to ensure she has to take a step back, but also prove that if she wants to get handsy, she WILL lose.
Once you start a fight with me, I always win, and I certainly don’t mind getting bloody.
"If we're done here," I announce to the room, channeling every ounce of defiance I have, "I have a class to enjoy, where the world is forced to acknowledge my talent, aside from my born predicaments. At least in there I actually earn my place with no extra endeavors needed to get what I want."
"390 points should be enough, yes?"
The voice cuts through the tension like a blade, followed immediately by an arm hooking around my waist, halting my dramatic exit. A familiar scent washes over me — sandalwood and winter air — making my heart stutter in my chest.
I look up to find James staring down at me, our faces mere inches apart.
The playful glint from earlier is gone from his eyes, replaced by something darker, more commanding. His entire demeanor has shifted, radiating an Alpha energy so potent it makes my knees weak.
The power rolling off him isn't just strong — it's overwhelming, flooding the hallway with a presence that demands submission. Even Victoria, with all her carefully crafted confidence, shrinks back against the wall, her throat working as she swallows hard.
"Who..." she manages, her usual sharp tone replaced by something closer to a whimper, "Who exactly are you?"
Phillips jumps to his feet so quickly that his chair rolls back and hits the wall. He executes a bow that would look comical if not for the genuine fear in his expression.
"Mr. Morrison," he stammers, "I apologize! Your appointment wasn't scheduled until later this afternoon?—"
"The Morrison Empire," James cuts him off, his voice carrying an edge I've never heard before, "doesn't operate on your schedule. And the last time I checked, I'm here to finalize the official ownership documents of Knot Academy that were approved by myself and my fellow founders."
My eyes widen as his words sink in.
"What does that mean?" I whisper, unable to stop myself.
James's lips curve into a predatory smile as he looks down at me.
"It means, technically, I own this circus you call a school now." His gaze shifts to Phillips, hardening. "And with a single word from you, I can gladly fire Advisor Phillips here for daring to frustrate my Omega."
Heat floods my cheeks at his possessive tone, but before I can respond, Carter's voice cuts through the tension.
"She's not yours."
"True," James acknowledges easily, his arm still firm around my waist. "I just arrived and had no idea Abercrombie was even up for a pack. This works out perfectly, actually."
Victoria, clearly seeing her carefully laid plans crumbling, steps forward.
"She's the Forgotten One!" she blurts, desperation making her voice crack. "She's rebellious, disobedient…she's been here for five years because no pack would take her! She's?—"
James's laugh cuts her off — a dark, knowing sound that makes her flinch.
"You mean like how you've been through three different administrators' offices this month alone?" he asks casually. "Or should we discuss the creative ways you've earned your academic achievements?" His smile is razor-sharp as he continues, "The former staff were quite... forthcoming with information before I terminated their employment."
Victoria's face drains of color.
Phillips clears his throat, clearly trying to salvage the situation.
"As...compelling as this development is, I'm afraid Ms. Abercrombie has already signed the final documents submitting to her dismissal from Knot Academy at the end of the semester."
My head snaps up.
"What?"
The words hit me like a physical blow as understanding dawns. The papers I was reviewing earlier — they weren't just the usual declarations.
They were...
James looks down at me, his expression unreadable.
"Did you sign them?"
I open my mouth to explain, to tell him about how I was interrupted before finishing the paperwork, but fear closes my throat.
What if they forged my signature without me realizing it? They set all of this up, so what would stop them from doing a few copied scribbles with ink to mimic that I signed them? They have video footage that I was in the office, sitting there for a long while…they can fabricate it all…put all the pieces together until…
Until I’m deemed guilty and dismissed like the piece of trash they see me as.
His arm drops from my waist, and for a moment, my heart stops.
Thinking I’m suddenly abandoned…
But instead of walking away, he turns me to face him fully.
His hand comes up to grip my chin, tilting my face up to his.
Then his lips are on mine, hard and demanding.
The kiss isn't gentle or questioning — it's a claim, a statement of intent that makes my whole body flush with heat as my Omega instincts are going insane. The prickling tingles rush down my arms, triggering goosebumps and heat that can make my world spin in seconds.
My pussy is already clenching in need, as if imagining what James’ length is like, especially with him being a man instead of a boy like way back then.
I'm vaguely aware of Carter's sharp intake of breath, of Felix's quiet curse, but everything fades compared to the sensation of James's mouth moving against mine. Maybe it’s a good thing Holmes can’t see this, but then again, he wouldn’t care.
Can’t seem to get a reaction from him.
When he finally pulls back, his lips brush mine as he whispers with affirmation.
"Tell me, Omega. Should I burn the whole office down for you, to make those signed papers go poof and turn to ash?"
Fuck…