32. Nora
32
Nora
The Perfect Omega is as much a part of me as my Omega, I've decided. It's the only explanation for the duality of my mind. The voice that Levi's father told me to listen to, what he called my Omega, whines and yells for her pack. The other voice, the voice I know is the Perfect Omega, reminds me of everything that is expected of me. Of the things I'm supposed to be doing.
Why do I lose my ability to control The Perfect Omega when Dr. Greene barks at me?
Mother threw me into my room, yelling about how I was ruining everything for her.
And I've been here.
All day.
Every day.
The ensuite bathroom is the only other place I've been allowed to go.
Dr. Greene comes in for what he calls "emergency Omega" lessons, and my mother delivers my meals. I beg for them to let me see the pack, to tell me if they're okay.
Every day, they say a variation of the same thing.
"No one came to see you, Nora."
"Your pack already moved on, Nora. Don't you regret receiving that knot now?"
"They want nothing to do with you. You're ruined."
"You'll be lucky if anyone wants you after this, Nora."
"This is why Omegas cannot be allowed to make their own decisions."
"You spread your legs for them, and now they find you repulsive."
"You weren't a good Omega, that's why they gave you up. I'm just trying to help you get better."
I don't believe them.
It's only been a week.
My pack will come for me.
My pack does want me.
It's been two weeks since I was taken from dinner with Chase, a man who I thought was going to be my Alpha.
It's been two weeks, and they've not come to see me once.
It's been two weeks that they've left me here, under the supervision of Dr. Greene and my mother, to be reprogrammed. To have any scrap of individuality I earned erased, an imperceptible blemish on the Perfect Omega.
I guess it wasn't worth it in the end. Because just like they always told me, if I did not follow the rules of a Perfect Omega, a pack would decide I was not good enough for them.
I just want to be good enough.
Every standard, every test, everything my mother and the Design Clinic asked of me I did, I passed, I excelled in. All I was told every time I tried to celebrate my achievements was, "Why would you celebrate what is expected of you?"
I just wanted to be good enough for someone.
I thought I was good enough for Pack Sloane. But if they thought I was, why aren't they here? Why hasn't Chase broken a window, or Joey driven his bike through the door?
But just what Dr. Greene said would happen did. I stopped following the Perfect Omega rules – no whining, no fornication out of heat, dressing appropriately- and they gave me up.
I was not a good enough Omega for them.
I didn't hear them outside even once.
And who came for me?
Not Joey, my friend, who I have laughed with more than anyone else.
Not Levi, my kind, sweet Alpha, who shared his experiences with me and never judged me.
Not Nolan, who saved me at my most vulnerable, who joined me outside of my comfort zone, who was always checking in on my wellbeing.
Not Blaine, my flirty Alpha, who just wanted to make sure I went through a life full of pleasure and joy.
And certainly not Chase, my reluctant Alpha, who smelled like my favorite thing, who fought against me, and who seemed to be turning around until apparently he finally got his wish.
I'm not their problem anymore.
Today, I will bond with the only pack the Design Clinic will approve, apparently.
I'm upset, I'm sure. In theory.
But my Omega has been thoroughly subdued by the Perfect Omega, and she doesn't care about any of it.
It is a starkly different mood than the last time we sat in our living room, waiting for my pack to arrive.
Mother swears she doesn't know what pack the Design Clinic has chosen. I don't know if I believe her, but what difference does it make? I have no choice in this. I can't bond without the approval of Dr. Greene and the Design Clinic.
The only pack I'd want to bond to has proven they didn't want me. So why should I care who walks through that door today?
"Sit up straight," my mother hisses, tapping my spine. I'm wearing a pale pink dress that flares from the hips, with a white ruffle on the bottom. My hair is up in a pretty, classic twist. I've got white gloves on that do little to hide the trembling in my hands.
But I am the picture-perfect Omega.
This is what is expected of me.
This is all I am ever to be.
This is what will make me happy.
This is what happy feels like.
"You will bond with this pack, Nora. The clinic would never choose a bad pack for the Perfect Omega. This is a good thing, Nora," she says, turning me by my shoulders. "Those men didn't come for you. You deserve better than a pack who won't fight for you."
"I know, Mother," I say, willing the Perfect Omega to help hide the crack in my voice. "I know this is the only way for me."
Tonight I have prepared mini quiche and chocolate tortes. Mother thought I should do my lemon bars, but I decided not to. I made the cocktail a classic martini. It will be the closest I'll get to drinking one again.
This meal is not one of love and care and excitement but one that reeks of defeat.
"Where are they? They're late," I say, walking to the door and pulling it open to look down the road.
I'm surprised to find a giant man with red curly hair standing next to me. "Nora, I have something for you," he says, reaching into his pocket.
"Nora!" my mother shouts, stomping outside. She looks at the police officer and holds out her hand. He slips a folded piece of paper into her palm.
"I'm sorry, Omega, Nolan wanted you to have it," the man whispers in my ear.
I chase my mother into the house, shouting. "Give me that! It's mine! I deserve to see what it says!"
"I am your mother, Nora. I love you. I always have your best interests at heart. Why else would I be protecting you from reading another nasty letter from them?"
"What do you mean another nasty letter?" I ask quietly.
She sits down on the couch and pats it. I sink into the firm white sofa beside her. "Nora, honey. It's not that the pack wasn't visiting you. They… they did come here a few times."
"Why wouldn't you let me see them?" I cry out. "I deserved to see them!"
"Nora, they were here to drop off all your things," she said, putting her hand on top of mine. "At first. Then they weren't happy just having you out of their lives. I didn't think you'd want the things tainted by those bad memories. Honey," she looks at me with soft, watery eyes, "they wanted to make sure you knew how happy they were with you no longer in the picture."
Whatever part of me that trusted that tiny voice in my brain urging me to be different dies at her words.
"I'm just trying to protect you, Nora. That's all I've ever done. I just want to protect you and take care of you."
It takes only a few minutes for me to center myself and become the Perfect Omega again.
When the doorbell rings, and I rise to my feet to meet my new pack, I swing open the door and just find Dr. Greene. I step back and let him enter, closing the door behind him. Mother rises up to her feet.
"Dr. Greene, you made it," she says, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. How can she handle how bad he smells? "Are you here to facilitate the introduction with the pack?"
"In a way," he says, gesturing to our dinner table. "Let's sit, please."
Mother and I sit down across from Dr. Greene, both of us exchanging confused glances. "Where is the pack?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Nora, the Design Clinic struggled to find an acceptable pack willing to bond with you," he says, folding his hands together on the tabletop. "Since it was confirmed you took a knot, a lot of eligible packs pulled out." The invasive, uncomfortable procedure to determine this was non-optional. Mother held me down while they performed it, uncaring about my protests and tears.
I blink, pushing that memory into a lemon-yellow box in the corner of my mind.
"The Design Clinic did, though, find one solo Alpha, without a pack, that they will approve of you bonding with," Dr. Green continues.
"A lone Alpha?" I say, confused. "I thought an Omega was needed by an entire pack?"
"Sometimes, a solo Alpha has enough needs that he can take his own Omega."
Mother sits back in her chair, nodding, like this is a normal turn of events. "Well, this seems like a fine outcome, considering Nora's downfalls."
All the energy to fight is gone, but I have to know. "Who is it, Dr. Greene?" Because if that little voice in my head is to be believed, the answer is sitting right in front of me.
His face stretches in what I'm sure he believes is a smile, but to me, it looks like a predator baring his teeth.
"Why, Omega, it's me."