Chapter Five
Lucky
Lucky pushed all thoughts of Chase aside and reined in his overwrought hormones to refocus. Chase had been a welcome distraction, but Lucky still had a mountain of work to do. Now that Chase wasn’t in front of him, he re-read his last paragraph to remind himself where he’d left off.
Lucky scanned a finger over the notes and inwardly winced. It was bad enough his professor was an alpha―as were approximately ninety percent of professors at the school―but many were ignorant enough to think a male omega beneath contempt because of his biology.
Did he ask to have a womb? No.
Did he ask to be born with a cock—perfectly functioning, actually, Lincoln!—and a womb, and the pretty flower folds that protected his chamber? No, absolutely not.
Would he trade them for the basic anatomy of an alpha male? Not on his life.
Lucky might be a classically unflattering build, short at five-six and plump.
He might wear his wheat-coloured hair to his waist or in elaborate braids or buns.
He might have jumped at the opportunity for his Aunt Paulette, the talented omega designer, to paint the sigils under his skin the moment he turned of age, but it was his body.
He was in control of how it looked and what he did to it. Until his alpha mate stole that power.
Chase’s brief visit had been a surprise, but the fact he’d asked Lucky on a date, then asked about true mates, had been unexpected. If Chase was his mate, he doubted he’d ever face that horrible judgement over his figure, sigils or hair.
Snorting at that unlikely scenario, Lucky returned to writing. He re-read the explanation about slick and created a new line.
An interesting sidenote: slick is the number one reason for omegas being hurt, harassed or kidnapped in the modern world. It has been medically proven that, if omegas feel fear, sadness or pain, they physically cannot produce slick.
Humming, he squinted at a scribble at the bottom of the page he couldn’t decipher. Frustrated, he lifted the notebook and tilted it into the light, shaking his head at the multiple misspellings in the paragraph, which he’d been smart enough to rewrite.
BONDING/MATING
The Gods―the omega Goddess, Omha, and Her alpha mate, Azrah―choose a true mate for every alpha and omega, pairing one to the other like two halves of a soul split in two.
When an alpha is nineteen, they are capable of sensing their true mate. They will sense the bond approximately one year before their omega, though no medical reason can explain why. An alpha may reveal the bond to their omega and begin courting or hide the bond and delay.
An alpha who loses their omega―to death or to a bonding with a chosen alpha―has the right to submit a ‘Nullification of Mating’ to the courts.
This will acknowledge the alpha is free to mate another omega.
Of course the omega must be free of their true mate bond or have the permission of their true mate to nullify their bond.
In contrast, betas can marry other betas, an alpha who has lost their omega, or an omega who has been abandoned by their true mate.
Lucky read his notes, pleased he was coming to a close. It already looked badly over word count, and he didn’t want to cut a single word.
CONCLUSION
Despite the generations of hard-fought battles and hidden pain omegas endured since our creation, not much has changed. Alphas still rule the world.
They can influence omegas in three fundamental ways—by using their flare to manipulate omegas, by suppressing our education, and by hiding the knowledge of true mates.
In a world where everyone applauds omegas for the advancements we have made, any progress has been at the hands of alphas. Our battles have been fought in secret, behind closed doors.
Our history is rich, vast and beautiful.
Our story has been lost in the fight for freedoms that should have been granted to us for merely existing.
We, as much as any alpha or beta, are children of the great alpha God Azrah and the extraordinary omega Goddess Omha.
We should be respected, honoured and cherished for being their children, as all alphas and betas are.
Stabbing the final full stop, Lucky nodded, believing every word.
Reluctantly, he checked the word count and breathed a sigh of relief. It was twenty-five words under the maximum limit, enough to sit comfortably until tonight, when he got home and would re-read the essay to check for changes, mistakes or potential additions.
Eyeing the clock, Lucky clicked Save and closed the document, pushing his seat back with a sense of satisfaction. It was time to head to class.
If this didn’t get him an A, he would write a strongly worded letter of complaint to the teaching board.
* * * *
Ford
He left his truck and headed for the alley shown on the map linked to the tracker he’d put on Lincoln’s watch. He followed the signal until he heard voices, then switched his phone to video. Ross could enhance the audio if it was sketchy.
Ford crouched low and manoeuvred behind four parked cars to get closer. Peering through a window, he spotted Lincoln with three others, bouncing on his feet like he was cold or nervous, while the other three smoked. Ford raised his phone to get a clearer shot and waited.
“This guy wants three hundred for one dose of OX?” One of the guys scoffed and handed Lincoln the cigarette.
He took it and hissed after the first smoke, which hinted to Ford that it wasn’t any ordinary cigarette. Joints were illegal for good reason. Omegas could lose control of their slick production, even their heats, while alphas lost their inhibitions. He’d seen the damage they caused firsthand.
“What’s with that omega you’ve got your eye on? Lucky?”
Lincoln took a second hit of the joint. “I’m picking him up tonight, to take him to a club with his friends.”
“Gotta keep an eye on the prize, right?”
They laughed again, no doubt aware of how shameless and pathetic Lincoln was.
He was so low on their radar that they wouldn’t care if it hurt his feelings.
The fact they talked about Lucky and Lincoln’s infatuation was interesting.
Lincoln even openly admitted to having a problem with his recent debt.
Had he come to these assholes for the missing fifty Omhns?
Ford didn’t recognise them, but he couldn’t get a good look at their faces. If they were meeting Lincoln here, he might find their names on Lincoln’s phone records.
The OX interested him more. The drug was known as Omega Xposure, or Exposure, and it did only one thing—forcing a contact heat. Whatever poor omega was given the drug, there was a one thousand to one guarantee they’d go into a contact heat with the first alpha who touched them.
Ford gritted his teeth, realising what Lincoln had been trying to buy from him.
Was he a big enough asshole to use it on Lucky?
He’d have to warn Lucky, even though he was already cautious of Lincoln.
Caution wouldn’t be enough to protect him if Lincoln continued to act as his chaperone.
One moment of lax attention, one distraction or sip of an unsealed bottle, and Lucky would be more vulnerable than any omega wanted to be.
With proof of Lincoln attempting to buy the drug, he could arrest him. Except, Lincoln had waited years for Lucky. Rumours hinted that he was waiting for the true mate bond to spark, which meant he wouldn’t risk using the OX until Lucky had found his true mate or reached his first heat.
He had less than three months to use Lincoln to get the dealer, find out who these jokers were, and get enough evidence against them to get them off the streets forever. First, he’d warn Lucky, then he’d catch the rest of these fuckers.
* * * *
Lucky
Professor Flanagan paced the front of the room, set out in a horseshoe of tables and chairs for the students so the omega professor could stand in the middle.
“Your first heat will hit you hard. While some narrow-minded professors believe that a heat is the alphas’ responsibility, we omegas know better.
“The number one priority for an omega’s first heat is to be prepared.
Without preparation, when your heat hits you will run the risk of being a mindless sex toy,” the professor continued, with a wry smile that acknowledged how often that happened.
“We are better than that. We deserve more than that. This room is where you’ll arm yourself with knowledge, power and focus that will help you get through your first heat successfully. ”
As she walked―a tall woman with beautiful auburn skin and raven hair―she tucked her hands into the pockets of her sleek cream jumpsuit, looking elegant and in command. “The first rule of a heat is to prepare for your needs in advance. How can we do this?” She glanced around the room. “Hank?”
“Make sure the kitchen is fully stocked with non-perishables, lay out snacks, water and wipes in the bedroom,” he said, though Lucky felt that was just general preparedness for sex, never mind a heat.
Professor Flanagan nodded. “Una, give us another option.”
“Inform your work that you won’t be available, arrange time off and prepare them in advance for covering your leave of absence,” she replied, which was another decent answer but basic good sense.
When Lucky raised his hand, Professor Flanagan practically rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, Lucky.”
“Form a plan with your mate.”