Chapter 3
ESPER
Penny has been holding court basically since we met up after lunch. I sit with a handful others as she laughs and gabs and rarely asks for anyone else’s involvement. She waves around her red lollipop as she speaks.
Eventually, the other groupies dissipate as we meander back to our room—nope, her room. She opens the door and my once-neutral-covered side of the room now is an explosion of pinks and reds.
Penny plops onto her bed, and I cringe at her dirty shoes on top of the comforter.
But it’s not my bed, not my room, not my problem.
“Thanks again for your help with the room,” she says. “I actually see the use for your silly little degree now.”
“Anytime, Pen.”
Penny had the extra bed moved out—how she got the school to agree to that, I have no idea—so I take a seat in one of the boneless chairs we picked out a few weeks ago.
Penny is a beautiful woman. She has red long hair, green eyes and cutesy freckles that bunch when she snarls, which she does now.
“Professor Marlyn can actually kick rocks. Maybe trip while doing so, down into a ditch. Or over a bridge.” As beautiful as Penny is, her mood never seems to be as cheery as her appearance.
Any professor assigning any type of work was a personal offense to her.
She was here to go pro at tennis, not actually learn anything.
As long as she eventually married whoever they picked out for her, Penny’s wealthy parents are happy to pay for her schooling and are supportive of her tennis career.
“How’s your heat coming along?” Penny asks, shooting up to a sitting position on her bed and reaching for a nail file on her desk.
I swallow my discomfort at the question. Was that common to ask? It felt like… like it should be private. I stretch the sleeves of my large sweater and cover my hands, which are anxious to pick at something, anything, at this point.
For a moment it feels like we should be besties gushing over boys and dreaming of mates, like being in the same space should be easy and enjoyable, but it… isn’t.
She’s my best friend. She is.
“I actually… I may have found a partner.”
Her eyes light up before I even get the words out. Penny is a beta, so she doesn’t have a scent that I can smell, since we aren't scent matches. But her interest is written all over her face.
Scent matches are basically soulmates. A person destined to be your perfect romantic match determined by scent.
“Who? Is it someone on campus? Someone I know? How’d you meet so fast?”
Happiness covers my skin like glittering shimmer, lotion and I can’t help but squeal along with her.
“His name is Reed, he goes to school here. He’s a business major and he loves bike rides.”
“Bike rides?” Penny laughs and I nod my head.
“Yeah, he says he rides his bike to school every chance he gets.”
“What does he look like? Is he hot?”
“So hot.” His profile picture is permanently etched into my mind. Half of his honey blond hair is tied up in a pony and he doesn’t smile, just stares right into the camera as he leans against his bike with helmet in hand and an orange and purple sunset behind him.
“What designation is he? An alpha?”
“No,” I say, running my long fingernails softly over my cheeks trying to calm myself down. “He’s an omega.”
Penny pauses. “An…omega?”
“Yeah…”
She shook her head at me, all previous excitement vanished. “Esper, you need a knot. That's, like, basic biology, babe.” She scoffs.
“Well, I know… ” Tears prick my eyes, and my face goes impossibly warm.
“A knot, Esper. You need a dick with a knot. God, I can't believe I have to explain this to you.”
Penny’s disgust feels like oil on my skin. Logically, I can understand her concern. I can agree with her facts.
But…Reed.
I don’t know how to explain the feeling I’ve had since matching with Reed. Excited? Wanted? Safe?
“This must be why omega centers exist. You omegas can’t seem to handle things on your own.
” Penny laughs as she rolls off her bed, but the comment slices through me like a steak knife in butter.
She plops down on her vanity stool across the room.
“I bet they would have given you an alpha. On a platter. Baked in oil and ready to purr for you.”
Her presumption renders me utterly speechless. Anxiety floods through my system. I curl my legs into my chest, the jean fabric scratching, restricting, as Penny goes on about us lucky omegas.
Penny may be right about knots and heats, but here, she is dead wrong.
There is a local company, catered to omegas, to help us through our heats and find packmates who won’t take advantage of us. It’s more of a matchmaking service. With high fees and vetted Packs. Which in theory sounds great, but…
“I tried—”
“Maybe you need to try harder.” Her voice is sharp. Cutting as she stares at me through the mirror. She glosses her lips without breaking eye contact. Daring me to talk back to her.
I went to one of those great and mighty omega centers when I realized my heat was coming.
I was guided to a room, four white walls, a single table and chair with books upon books filled with scent cards.
After hours of going through them, I didn’t find one scent I liked enough to meet with, let alone invite for my upcoming heat.
I swallow my words. She’d never understand. She doesn’t want to.
But I know. How they keep their alphas for Packs reserved for those who can afford their monthly subscription prices.
How when you don’t find a scent in their scent books, they act like there is something wrong with you.
Never considering that maybe my packmate is maybe just my age and not able to afford their subscription.
Maybe they aren't aware of the company or maybe they are building their Pack, their life first, before wanting an omega. Maybe… maybe they don’t want an omega at all.
Penny finally drops my gaze, standing. “I think I’m going to take a nap. I have a party to get ready for in a few hours.” She drops her sucker in the trash with a loud clang that makes me jump.
It may as well have been a get the hell out.
I’m on my feet and out the door without so much as a goodbye.
She was going to a party. A party I was clearly not invited to.
My walk home is a sad one. Since moving out, our friendship has been so… strained. It hurt. It hurt a lot.
There is nothing wrong with me. Or with wanting another omega. Reed obviously didn’t have an issue with it. So neither should I.
Right?
My phone dings.
Another match.
Already? Really?
I race the rest of the way to my room. Turning on my fairy lights, I shed my outside clothes and find my inside clothes (currently a maroon hoodie and loose matching sweatpants), and crawl into bed with my phone lighting up my face.
My thumb hovers over the app. It dares me to open it. Do it, Esper.
Maybe… maybe it’ll be an alpha this time?
I slam my phone down on my blanket. Shoot out of bed.
I don’t need an alpha. I have Reed.
If Reed even likes me. We haven’t even met and I'm already so dependent on him.
My cranberry scent stains the air with a sour note. I need more scent blockers. Fast.
Launching back in my bed, I grab my phone, opening the app but sliding to the chat with Reed without opening my new match.
Would he … lose interest? Should I let him know?
Inhale. Exhale.
Open the darn match, Esper. Many omegas have more than one suitor. Hell, more than one partner. It’s gonna be okay.
My finger hits the button, and a new picture fills my screen with the same confetti as before.
His name is Neven, and he’s an alpha.