3 months later
3 MONTHS LATER
JUNIPER
I glanced again at where Kit was snuggled on the couch, feeling so guilty I’d lost my temper on him. I didn’t know what he was still doing with me. Once, I probably would have been a great roommate, but six months ago, the world had changed me.
My dad smiled reassuringly as he started the drip to sedate me for my heat. He was my safety in a world where we didn’t have money for true protection. “See you on the other side, Juni-bug,” he said softly. “I’ve got you, okay?” I smiled up at him as I felt the coldness spreading through my arm, and then it was dark.
I woke in my room to find a pair of paramedics leaning over me. The air was wrong, the scent of blood and a bitter, curdled tang that stuck in my nose. I scrambled back, searching for my dad. He was leaning against the wall, and I tried to get to him. There were so many people in the room, and they didn't want me to reach him..
I fought, crashing to the ground beside him, my hands landing in a puddle of blood. I looked up, and he was wrong. His skin was waxy and pale, his face oddly stiff. His hand was stuck, clasped around a pistol.
It took two people to drag me away from him, and that’s when I saw the other body on the far side of my bed. This one’s blood wasn’t just in a puddle; it was sprayed all over my dresser and mirror. And his hand was stuck, too, grasping a fistful of my ancient Pinky Pony top sheet.
I started screaming, struggling to get free. More hands grabbed me, forcing me to the ground, and then I felt a sharp jab in my arm. The terrifying darkness came back.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in the hospital with the police. They talked to me, making accusations disguised as questions.
“...Were you in public when your heat hit? …Did you delay getting home? …Who did you tell? …Why did you choose to sedate in your room for your heat?”
I screamed at them to fuck off, but then the room filled with people holding me down. The needle was coming, and I screamed harder, because they were going to put me under again, and I couldn’t do that; anything could happen and I’d be powerless.
As soon as I came to, I ripped out my IV and left .
After that, I didn’t have the luxury of taking time to process everything. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. I’d sit on the couch and hug my knees, and every time I drifted off, I’d wake up in a panic that lasted until morning. I had to keep going; I had to get ready for the day and keep doing what needed to be done. There was work and rent and the cleaning bill to get the blood out of my carpet. There was the funeral and the will and the hospital bill. The police, again, and then the fucking Institute’s ‘post-trauma debrief’.
All they wanted to talk about was my fucking registration.
“You’re aware your year is almost complete, Miss Anders? You have less than a month to get the injection before your eyes go gold forever. We have a nurse on call who can come right away. The kinds of heat management programs we offer to protect you from dangerous heats—they’re not offered to gold pack omegas.”
I told them to fuck off, too. Those programs weren’t enough. Me and dad had looked into them. The Institute didn’t give a fuck about me either way. Watching my eyes turn gold had given me a moment of vicious satisfaction, but it hadn’t fixed anything.
I was just running on anger, souring my scent every minute of the day. I needed the rage to keep going, because without the burning push to do something, I had nothing to distract me from the thing I hated most of all: myself.
So when my next heat came, I went online and found some random pack.
Maybe they’d be nice, or maybe they wouldn’t. It would be justice if they weren’t, penance for trying to escape my heat last time, for being so useless when my dad needed me.
I was sure that’s what I deserved until a pair of bright, bespectacled eyes met mine.
He looked like another rich downtown kid, but he spoke in a Gritch accent. I could see his nerves, but he offered to help me, anyway.
I didn’t want his help until he mentioned sedation—just like my dad had—and for a second, my dad was there. Watching me trying to meet up with this awful pack, but this time I didn’t feel angry. I felt so lost and alone.
Then Kit hugged me. A complete stranger, pulling me into his arms and crying for me. For my grief. He was the first person to touch me since my dad died, and nothing— nothing —had ever felt safer than that. He was magic with his warmth, his lovely almond buttercream scent, and his soothing purr. In his arms I could let go of that anger and allow myself to finally feel the pain; it was safe. And maybe it was weak, but it felt so nice not to have to do everything. To let someone else… care for me.
He took responsibility for finding me a pack, holding my hand as we went to their dorm. He spoke, so I didn’t have to. He got me a safe pack and five thousand dollars , so I didn’t have to worry about rent for a while.
I steeled myself when goodbyes came, even though I was so afraid for him to go. I didn’t have a right to more of his time. But he took my hand again and stayed, as if it was perfectly normal.
“ Heat buddies,” he said, and helped me nest and wash up. He got some scents from the pack, so I had some time to get used to them.
His almond buttercream was the best, though, and the one I clung to when it started. In the moments where I came down from the tempest, when I was resting, he was there. He set up in a corner, sometimes in various states of undress, but he didn’t touch me unless he was helping me drink some water or wash up.
“I’ve got you, Juniper,” he whispered, and I cried again in the bathroom while he tugged me close. I didn’t know how I would have survived the heat without him.
He took me to the bus station after, and I thought that was it. My head felt clear, and I was still angry, but I also felt… present, for the first time in months.
Instead of saying goodbye, he gave me his number and asked if I knew about any cheap places to rent. I selfishly told him about a place I was looking at, a two-bedroom apartment above a shop.
We moved in together the next week.
When his heat came the next month, his aunt Dee found and vetted a pack, and he nervously asked if I’d be his heat buddy, too. I didn’t think there was anything he could ask that I’d say no to—at least when crazy omega hormones weren’t involved. My heat was coming soon, and I kept having massive territorial blowups.
“I’m so sorry, Kit,” I said again, my lip trembling as I tried not to cry. It was the stupid hormones. And maybe a little bit of the wine we’d shared.
“S’not your fault,” he said, his head sliding down a little farther so it rested gently on my shoulder. I was always hyper-aware of him when we were close, and my cheeks heated at the touch.
He was really cute. He had those adorable, dorky glasses and a mop of pink hair over his dark, hypnotizing eyes. Seeing him during his heat, though, had flipped my attraction to him into overdrive.
I started just like he had, treating it like a job. I was there to protect and ground him—I even brought my laptop to have something to do. I knew it was likely I’d have some kind of response, but I thought it’d be manageable. Ignorable. I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful he’d be with his pack. I wasn’t prepared to see his slender body, his long elegant cock bouncing as he whined and begged for more. His sweet almond perfume had been over the room like a haze, and the worst part was when he looked over as he came, his bright eyes meeting mine before fluttering closed. Fuck. He left me slick and desperate, my pulse throbbing between my legs, and when I tried to relieve it by myself, he told one of his alphas to go to me.
I thought I might actually have to add that to my list of ‘life-changing moments’, in which case, he could claim two. Though he might get a third soon, because I was sure it wouldn’t be long before he moved out on account of my crazy mood swings.
“It’s just these stupid pre-heat omega instincts,” I whispered, turning the glass of wine in my hands. He’d actually gone through the same thing before his last heat, and it was so tense that week. It sucked because hormones didn’t care how much we liked each other.
I wondered if all omegas got it like this, or if it was because neither of us had ever had a truly safe, stable heat.
“Maybe we just got to accept that we can’t do this roomie thing. We’ve tried everything at this point,” I said, sadly.
We even scoured the internet for tips on getting non-packed omegas to co-exist peacefully. Start by exposure therapy to the other omega’s scent. Ensure each omega has their own dedicated space. Then, try eating a meal in a shared space. Not helpful. We were way past that.
I’d been staring gloomily at the wall, and Kit nudged me, a smile twitching on his face.
“Are you talking about that list? Because that was total crap. I’m pretty sure Dee did the same things when she had to get her cats to get used to each other.”
I caught Kit’s eye, and we both burst into a fit of laughter. He shuffled closer, and I gave him a sad smile.
“I just don’t like that we keep losing it on each other. Maybe we’d be better friends if I moved out.”
He lifted his head, blinking at me, and gave a sudden grin. “Wait, I just had another idea.” His eyes were locked with mine, shining behind his round, gold frames, and I could see the freckles on his nose.
“What if… we bit each other?”
My heartbeat sped up as he held my gaze.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice squeaking a bit.
“You know,” he said as his gaze had dropped to my neck, “like… if we claimed each other. With a bite.”
“Omegas don’t bite each other,” I said breathlessly as he leaned in closer, his nose nuzzling against my pulse. The touch had warmth pooling between my legs.
“Yeah, but like, maybe it’d trick our brains into calming down.” His breath was tickling my skin as he spoke, his teeth so close. I didn’t know if his logic made sense, but now he’d suggested it, I desperately wanted it anyway. I wanted his bite and his claim, and I wanted to do the same to him.
“O—okay,” I said, and he hovered there a moment more before moving again, his nose nudging me as if to find a good spot.
He gave a satisfied little huff, then he bit down.
I let out a gasp as his teeth broke my skin. It was a proper bite . Like he did actually want it to last, to show his claim. I clutched the couch as his touch receded and then he was looking at me with a grin. A faint, temporary connection had lit between us, and I could feel his buzzing happiness as he looked down at me.
“See?” His eyes glinted with satisfaction. “Mine.”
He paused for a moment and then flopped back on the couch, exposing his neck to me.
“Your turn,” he said, tugging me closer. It was doing something to my brain to see him so vulnerable. It felt natural to lean closer, to bring my lips to his neck. His almond buttercream, always so delicious, was almost intoxicating now. I could see his pulse racing, and he swallowed as I opened my mouth.
Kit. Mine .
My teeth bit down into his neck, tasting the iron tang of his blood as I marked my claim. Oops. I was too tipsy to hold back. He twitched, but didn’t pull away, and the connection between us strengthened, his contentment mirroring my own.
He gave a little chuckle.
“Best friends and bite marks,” he said. “That’s good, right, Juni?” He patted me on the head and yawned.
A bubble of happiness swelled up as I heard the new nickname, reminding me of the name my dad used to call me.
“Good,” I said, and looked up to see his eyes had dropped shut, his head drifting to the side.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest.
Mine.