Chapter Two
Halley
I’m on my hands and knees in a dimly lit supply closet, digging through a poorly organized shelf, looking for the spare supply of pre-rolled bandages. I cautiously brush aside cobwebs and shift dusty boxes around, feeling my frustration grow by the minute.
Why does every supply closet have one of these shelves? The place where goods are shoved when they don’t belong anywhere else.
I can relate so hard. I don’t belong where I should.
I catch my purple-colored eyes in the reflection of a bedpan and scoff. Trust me to be having self-reflective epiphanies beside a stack of bedpans.
Who needs a therapist when you’ve got a mop bucket and a roll of paper towels to talk to?
Sitting back on my haunches, I blow a strand of long, wavy brown hair out of my eyes. This particular strand is determined to rebel against the regulation bun. No matter how much sticky gel and painful pins I secure it with, it always escapes.
“Sparks!” The door to the supply closet bangs open and I jump, the contents of the shelf spilling onto the floor.
I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and a wide grin spreads across my face as I turn to the figure standing in the doorway.
A female Beta points an accusatory finger at me. “You sneaky little shit! I didn’t know you transferred to hospital duty.”
“Why would I tell a gossipy witch like you, Everlyn?” I exclaim, laughing and playfully punching her in the shoulder.
We’re old friends. In fact, she was the first friend I made when I arrived at Barkrood Military Base in the middle of the night in my father’s beat-up truck.
She’d been a brand new doctor, and I was scared out of my wits.
It was Everlyn’s kindness during my intake medical exam which made the transition easier, and we’ve been friends ever since.
We don’t see each other often due to the restricted access Omegas have on base, but when we manage to catch up in person, it feels like no time has passed.
I’m rarely in the hospital. Instead, I’m assigned to the warehouses.
Deliveries come from all over the country, and I enjoy seeing the locations on the shipping labels and imagining what it’s like there.
They’re like portals to another world.
It’s a physically active job too. I’m on my feet every day, lifting heavy boxes and keeping busy. At the end of a hard day, my aching feet and sore muscles make me feel accomplished.
The warehouse also means working with Beta soldiers and delivery people. It’s a chance to speak to others who are part of the outside world, and I love hearing all about their lives.
However, today I’m in the hospital.
The fracking hospital.
The shift manager knows how much I dislike working here. There’s something about the sick and injured that sets my Omega instincts into overdrive. A gnawing need to help and fix whatever is ailing them. It makes me feel itchy and out of control.
Nope.
No, thank you.
I’ll stick to my warehouse.
“I’m filling in for Ember while she’s on heat leave,” I explain, bending to gather the strewn supplies, shoving them back onto the shelf.
Ember thrives in the hospital. While she has the nurturing instinct which all Omegas possess, she’s prickly and detached enough to keep the more extreme caretaker urges at bay. She doesn’t fall apart in a medical crisis.
Everlyn leans against the doorframe, a big smile plastered on her face. “She better come back in a better mood. She’s been snarky for days.”
I nod in agreement. “She’s agreed to let Dazz and two Betas help her through her heat this time. I bet she’ll come back with a healthy glow.”
“Ooo, good for her! And good for Dazz.” Everlyn waggles her eyebrows, and I chuckle. “Are you thinking of doing the same?”
“Nah, my Omega is a picky bitch. She’d slice the face off anyone who tried to enter her nest who isn’t her Alpha,” I say as I re-stack the errant bedpans, swallowing back the hurt threatening to seep into my voice.
Just thinking about how desperate I get for an Alpha during my heat makes me feel lightheaded.
It’s getting so bad that I’m considering sedation for my upcoming heat.
It’s best not to dwell on it, and Everlyn doesn’t pry.
She understands that there will never be an Alpha in my nest. Not while I live in The Omega Division, and I have no intention of leaving. I like not being sold into sexual slavery, thank you very much.
“Anyway, how have you been?” I ask, moving the conversation along. “How’s Jason?”
Everlyn mated with a Beta soldier a few years ago, and I love them as a couple. Everlyn can become hyper-focused on her work, but Jason keeps her grounded. He’s goofy and makes her laugh.
Frack, Jason makes everyone laugh. The guy is well liked on base.
“Fine,” she says, a small wobble in her voice. I look up from the shelf and notice the deep circles under my friend’s eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Everlyn doesn’t get easily shaken, and my gut twists. How could I have missed the specific salty fragrance of dried tears and the evident stress coming from my friend?
“It’s under control. No need for you to worry.”
“Everlyn, I’m already worried. Just tell me what happened.”
“Jason – he… he was injured in battle. An Alpha in Blood Lust went on a rampage.”
Soldiers are always being injured at battles happening at the border of Fathim and Hampcourt. The humans are waging a ceaseless war on anyone not purely human, and the Fathim Military rose to defend the citizens of Fathim.
Compared to humans, demi-humans heal quicker and are harder to kill. Betas have hardened skin, enhanced sight, smell, and hearing. They’re fast and clever. They can still be injured, and even killed if hurt badly enough.
Alphas are on another level. Beyond massive damage to the brain, extreme blood loss, decapitation, or eviscerating their bodies, they’re indestructible.
Blood Lust is the exception.
It’s the number one killer of Alphas. Anyone unfortunate to be nearby when they slip under its influence is dead meat.
Jason didn’t stand a chance.
Her gaze flits away to avoid letting me see them glisten with unshed tears.
“Jeez, Everlyn. Why didn’t you reach out?”
“I didn’t want to bother you…” she trails off with a grimace.
I lick my lips and nod. “Don’t be silly. You need support and people who care about you.”
She nods, and a single tear spills over.
“I know. If I’m honest, I was coming in here to have a good cry,” she admits.
My chest tightens further.
“Where is he?” I shuffle her out of the supply closet and into the flicker fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor.
“Intensive Care Unit.”
I bite my lower lip to stop myself from swearing.
The ICU is a restricted zone.
The military doesn’t permit Omegas to be in the same room as Alphas. Incidents of ‘bite first, ask questions later’ could happen.
For all the negative things I could say about The Omega Division, our safety as vulnerable unmated Omegas always comes first.
There are plenty of flexible rules on the base we skirt around. Restricted zones are not part of that flexible rule paradigm. Restricted zones keep us safe.
There is a real possibility I could encounter an unmated Alpha in the ICU. I haven’t ever been alone with one. The closest I get is when they pass the warehouse in armored vehicles, heading to the front lines.
“He had surgery, and it went well, but it’s hard.” My heart aches for my friend, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I just needed a bit of a break, ya know?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m a trauma doctor, I’m supposed to be able to handle this.”
“No one expects you to.”
“I better be getting back,” she mumbles.
“I’ll walk with you,” I say, and steer us along the red line painted on the floor that will lead us to the ICU.
An idea forms in my mind. A really stupid one that could get me into a lot of trouble.
But I won’t leave my friends to suffer.
My Omega instincts won’t let me.