Chapter 1 Tessa #2
“Look, it’s just one teensy-weensy cat. She barely takes up space.
See?” I scooped Josie up off my lap and held her like a fur muff.
She obligingly went limp noodle to warm my hands and wrists.
Her purrs grew louder, filling the space.
I loved that sound. That sound had saved my sanity more than once.
It’s why I couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her behind.
“When I went through initial testing, she was even allowed through decontamination into the lab area.”
“Even if our agency gave permission, this particular client certainly wouldn’t. They’re well known for never budging when it comes to their rider.” The Beta shook his head, almost pouting as if he was ‘terribly sorry he couldn’t accommodate my request’.
I really wasn’t sure what the hell a rider was, but they were going to budge this time if they wanted me.
“Have you even asked the client?” I tilted my chin and raised both eyebrows. He’d dodged this question once already.
“We do not need to ask the client. Their file clearly states that the matched Omega should arrive with nothing but the clothes on their back. Her back, in this case, per their gender presenting preference.” The Beta shoved his glasses up his large, sharp nose with one finger.
The specs barely budged. How could you shove something further up when it’s already at the top?
He dropped his hand and flexed his fingers after that useless gesture, looking unsure of what to do.
After an awkward moment, he balled both hands into fists and pressed them against his hips.
The pose was giving superhero. All he needed was a cape.
.. to inevitably get caught in a plane turbine and yank him to his untimely demise. I wouldn't mind watching that happen.
“All I’m asking is that you call the client and see if they’re willing to change their mind.” I let my voice shake a little, cracking the door on the floodgates I was tenuously holding back. I could give him crocodile tears easily. All I had to do was imagine leaving Josie behind.
His superhero stance melted, hands falling to his sides.
His eyes widened just a fraction, as if I’d finally done something which sent him off script.
He stepped around his desk, closing the distance between us until he stood right next to my chair.
He lifted one hand and rested it lightly on my shoulder.
My nose involuntarily wrinkled as a lemony pine cleaner stench ribboned through the air.
Mister Big Bad Beta Grouse was wearing a scent enhancer, one of those artificially doused bracelets street vendors sold to folks wishing they could be something they weren’t.
Betas always thought the grass was greener on the Alpha-Omega side. They were wildly misinformed.
I’d trade places with a Beta in a heartbeat.
Being part of the no-scent normals would be far better than being an Omega.
Society almost always pushed one future our way: find a scent match, bond with them, and push a few pups out.
A scent match might lead to a large pack of bonded pairs with a head Alpha and Omega.
Or a scent match might be scent ‘matches’ instead and the pack could be an ‘all for one, and one for all’ type deal.
It was becoming less common these days, but Alphas and Omegas could form monogamous bonded pairs too.
The end goal was always the same though—match, mate, pup.
If my life were different, if my family were still alive, then I’d be on that precipice of change when an Omega begins to feel the clock ticking.
Not always from herself, but from everyone around her—You’ve had your heat a few years, and you’re not getting any younger.
Don’t any of the Alpha young men at the parties smell good to you?
Yes, college is an option. A lot of Omegas meet their perfect scent match that way!
Isn’t it exciting, Tessa? Imagine if you match with multiples!
Like ‘more’ Alphas would be hitting solid gold. I could barely take care of Josie and myself, let alone juggle being the perfect Omega for more than one scent match.
If an Omega had real artistic talent, they could delay all of that without judgement.
I couldn’t paint well. I’d always been a terrible actor.
Hell, I couldn’t even lie without giving myself away.
I wasn’t a terrible singer, but only the shower deserved to hear that noise—not that I sang in the shower anymore; you had to wash quickly at the shelter.
I’d danced some in high school, only because I had to have an extracurricular.
I was never very good. Still though, if I had any real talent…
Society put such a premium on entertainment.
Alphas and Omegas could be stars. Outside of the creative sector though, unbonded Omegas were prohibited from a lot of jobs and encouraged to apply themselves in ‘nurturing’ fields.
Like we’re all supposed to be soft, motherly creatures without a single fierce bone in our bodies.
An Omega CEO dominating a boardroom? Unlikely. Political rising star? Forget about it. High ranking military officer calling the shots? Nope. More doors opened once an Omega mated, but then came the pressure to pup.
Not that I’m delusional enough to think Betas have it made.
How many times had I heard some stupid Alpha badmouthing the Beta caterers at my parents’ big parties?
How many times did even I laugh at pathetic, egotistical jokes made at a Beta’s expense?
So many Alphas and Omegas thought of Betas as lower-class.
Admittedly, I fell into that category before… I lost everything.
Now? To me, they were freer than I could ever be.
They could have dreams. Within certain industries, they could start a business.
They could go to school and teach Beta kids.
They could enter any number of ‘helping’ class jobs to serve Alphas or Omegas, or bonded packs.
And building a family seemed so much easier too.
They didn’t have to worry about some ‘perfect’ scent match.
They could simply like each other enough to marry and build a family.
If they never wanted to marry? That was okay too. That sounded like utopia to me.
No, scratch that. Paradise to me these days would be a proper bed, air conditioning, a shower more than once a week, and maybe two guaranteed daily meals.
The Beta wasn’t saying anything. He just kept his hand on my shoulder. It felt like a vice, though his fingers were loose. Why did everything feel too heavy? Too tight? Too much? My world was breaking again.
“Look at her. She’s an angel.” I held Josie up, her vibrating body still wrapped around my arms.
“That’s out of the question.” He almost sounded… sympathetic. Awkwardly, he gave my shoulder a weak squeeze, as if that tiny morsel of comfort could replace the one family member I had left.
“Then I’m out of the question.” I clutched Josie a little tighter. She was part of me—the part that kept me going, the part that kept me alive. I refused—absolutely refused—to let her go. I was willing to risk my future. I wasn’t willing to risk hers. Period.
The Beta stepped away from me, dropping his hand. His eyes flicked up to the ceiling, towards the corner of the room right of the door. He’d done that a few times. Curiosity finally got the better of me, and I turned around to find what he sometimes stared at.
A camera. Someone was watching us. I rued the day I’d seen the stupid flyer on the shelter’s community board. I still didn't know why I’d responded to the ad.
Join our research pool by giving a noninvasive scent sample. Pay is a hundred dollars, or more depending on sample quality, and a voucher of your choice.
Right. The money and the voucher. It certainly hadn’t been the bold claim above the details that ‘The Cupid Company makes love happen’, because love... I didn’t give a rat’s ass about love anymore.
I’d walked into the sleek corporate building downtown in sneakers held together with duct tape, a long sleeve shirt, a pair of torn jeans from the shelter, and a too-large trench coat that I’m ashamed to admit I stole from a dead body in tent city.
I’d been starving, Josie shoved into my messenger bag with my few other belongings, and all I could think about was the promise of one hundred dollars.
Real money. Life changing money. Well, maybe not life changing, but certainly. .. week changing?
I’d signed a piece of paper, let a female Alpha in a lab coat painfully extract pink-tinted fluid from the maximus glands in my neck and the minora glands in my wrists.
.. then I’d let a jerky Beta take endless blood.
.. then I’d let them subject me to a full body exam.
After all the pain though, I’d walked out with money that could make all the difference in my life.
It was the promise of a real meal at a real restaurant and proper cat food for Josie.
The promise of a bed, maybe even for more than a night.
Not a box. Not newspaper for warmth. Not a cardboard cut-out window I pushed open for a breeze.
“When you signed the contract, you agreed to abide by the rules, Miss Fortune.” Beta Grouse’s voice was back to professional. He really needed to get some new material.
I was getting so damn sick of rules. Rules had just broken my heart at the shelter. They’d finally had space for me. They’d wanted to help me... in exchange for some good PR, but whatever. And then it had all gone tits up, because of rules. So, fuck rules. I was done with them.
“Oh, gosh. That thing? The print was so small I could barely read the words,” I countered, still trying to sound demure and disarming, but seething under the surface.