7. Olive #2
Chloe walks into the room, setting the toddler on the floor. The kid chews on the edge of the juice box.
Chloe sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. "We'll get some air fresheners in here. And you can clear out the closet. Rick keeps his old hunting gear in there, but I'll tell him to move it."
"It's fine." I sit on the edge of the bed. The springs creak under my weight.
Chloe sits down next to me. She bumps her shoulder against mine. "You look exhausted. Those suppressants are no joke. A friend of mine took them for a month before she found her mates. She threw up every day."
I wince at the mention of the drugs. My stomach churns in agreement.
"I have to take them." I stare at the stained carpet. "I refuse to let a pack of arrogant athletes claim me just because my new designation. I hate this Omega status. I lost my entire identity."
Chloe pats my knee. She offers a well-meaning but clueless smile. "You didn't lose your identity, Ollie. You just got an upgrade. Being an Omega isn't a death sentence. You'll find a nice pack. Someone steady and reliable. Then you can quit working and just relax."
Her words feel like a slap to the face.
She treats quitting a career like a luxury prize. She misses the point. I loved my job. I spent years earning my degree and fighting for that position on the pediatric floor. I never wanted to be a kept woman relying on an Alpha for survival.
I look at my sister. The chaotic noise of her house fills the silence between us. She chose this loud, dependent life. I curated my existence to avoid it. Now, the state forces me into a box I never wanted.
"I don't want a pack." I wrap my arms around my waist. "I want my life back."
Chloe offers a sympathetic sigh. Her tone makes it clear she views finding an Alpha as a magic cure for all my problems. She fails to see the reality. A pack bond seals the coffin on my independence.
"Get some rest." Chloe stands up and scoops Rose off the floor. "I need to go make sure the twins haven't destroyed the kitchen. Rick gets home from his shift in an hour. We'll order some pizzas for dinner."
She walks out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
The thin walls offer no soundproofing. The shrieks of the kids and the blaring television bleed right through the wood. I lie back on the cheap mattress and stare at the popcorn ceiling.
The stale air in the room makes me feel sick. I feel like a stranger in my body. I depend on my sister for a roof over my head. I have a ticking clock inside my pelvis, waiting for the suppressants to wear off and plunge me back into an agonizing heat.
I pull my knees up to my chest. Closing my eyes, I try to block out the noise of the house. I try to block out the memory of Finn standing in the parking lot. The devastating reality of my new life settles deep in my bones, leaving me feeling hollowed out and alone.
The noise in the house dies down around midnight. The kids pass out in their rooms. The television turns off, leaving a ringing silence in my ears.
I lie awake on the lumpy twin mattress. The suppressants twist my stomach into relentless knots. A dull, throbbing headache pounds behind my eyes.
I kick the thin blanket off my legs and swing my feet onto the carpet. I need a glass of cold water to settle the intense nausea burning in my throat.
The floorboards creak under my bare feet as I creep down the dark hallway. A single bulb illuminates the stove in the kitchen. The rest of the house remains cast in deep shadows.
I step into the kitchen and reach for a clean glass in the dish rack.
"Can't sleep?"
I jolt. The glass slips from my fingers. I catch it against my chest right before it shatters on the linoleum floor. I turn my head to look over my shoulder.
Rick sits at the small dining table in the dark corner of the room. He holds a half-empty bottle of cheap beer. He wears a stained gray t-shirt and loose gym shorts. His Beta scent lacks the overwhelming power of an Alpha, smelling of stale sweat and cheap body spray.
I set the glass on the counter. "I just need some water. The medication messes with my stomach."
Rick takes a slow drink from his bottle. His eyes drag up and down my body. I wear an oversized, faded t-shirt and cotton shorts, but his gaze lingers on the exposed skin of my thighs.
He sets the bottle down; the glass clinks against the wooden table.
"Never pictured you as an Omega." Rick smirks. He leans back in his chair, spreading his legs wide. "You always acted so stuck-up. Always looking down your nose at people. Acting like your fancy hospital job made you better than the rest of us."
I turn the faucet on. Cold water fills my glass. "I never looked down on anyone, Rick."
"Sure you did." He scoffs. "You judged this house. You judged me. But look at you now. Fired and living in my spare room."
I take a long sip of the water. I ignore the bait, finish my drink, and plan to retreat to my room. Engaging with his petty insults wastes my energy.
Rick leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. The smirk on his face turns dark.
"You look flushed." Rick stares at the red patches on my neck. "The fever still burning you up? Chloe told me you took those suppressants to kill the heat."
My skin crawls. His interest feels invasive. Discussing an Omega's heat cycle with a Beta brother-in-law crosses every boundary of basic decency.
"My medical decisions are none of your business." I grip the cold glass in my hand.
"I'm just saying." Rick runs a hand over his mouth. His eyes gleam with a sick, predatory fascination. "Those pills wear off. Unbonded Omegas are wired to submit. It's your new designation. When that fever comes rushing back, you'll need relief."
A wave of cold, rational terror washes over me.
Before I presented, Rick treated me like an annoying, uptight relative. He made crude jokes and ignored me. Now, he looks at me like a novelty. He looks at me like an exotic toy trapped inside his house.
His words paint a sickening picture. He has an Omega fetish.
"Alphas think they own the market on Omegas." Rick stands up from the table. He takes a slow step toward me. "They think their knots make them special. But a desperate Omega doesn't care. When the slick starts pouring out, you'll beg for any cock you can get. Even a Beta's."
Genuine fear spikes in my chest.
An Alpha's presence triggers my arousal and forces my body to react.
Rick's Beta presence does nothing to my hormones.
It just makes my skin crawl with dread. I lack a pack to protect me.
I lack a job to escape to. I sit isolated in the suburbs, vulnerable to the whims of a man who views my new status as an open invitation.
He takes another step forward, backing me toward the edge of the kitchen counter. The smell of his stale beer invades my personal space.
I slam my glass down on the counter.
I pull myself up to my full height. I drop my voice into the icy, authoritative tone I use to control unruly patients and combative parents on the hospital floor.
"Take one more step, and I scream until Chloe wakes up." I glare at him, my eyes wide with furious intent. "I will tell her every word you just said to me. I will pack my bags, walk out that front door, and never speak to my sister again. And she will know it was your fault."
Rick freezes. He blinks. The predatory gleam in his eyes vanishes, replaced by a nervous stutter. Mentioning my sister hits the mark and stops him in his tracks.
"Relax." Rick holds his hands up, taking a quick step back. "It was just a joke. You're too sensitive."
"Stay away from me." I snatch my glass of water off the counter.
I turn on my heel and march out of the dark kitchen. My legs shake with every step I take down the narrow hallway. I reach the spare bedroom and slip inside.
I push the door shut. My trembling fingers twist the flimsy metal lock on the doorknob. The tiny click offers no real security. A strong kick would shatter the cheap wood in a second.
I sink onto the edge of the twin mattress. My chest heaves as the terror takes root.
This house is not a safe haven. The suburbs offer no protection. Those arrogant athletes destroyed my career and stripped away my independence. I fled their infuriating, entitled pack to rebuild my life, only to land in a cage with a predator. I'm in real danger here, and I have nowhere else to go.