Chapter one #2
She means well. But the thought of ignoring my instincts, of forcing myself to settle for a pack that makes every cell in my body want to run, is almost as terrifying as dying. I want nothing to do with Brennan or his pack. And they’re the only ones knocking.
“I’ll try,” I say, because it’s what everyone wants to hear. “I promise.”
She squeezes my hand one last time and stands. “I’m rooting for you, Lily. You’re a sweet girl and you deserve a pack that loves you. But please, take tonight seriously. Go in with an open heart. Your life may depend on it.”
She leaves me to get dressed, the door clicking shut behind her.
The room feels heavier than it did a minute ago.
I sit there, hands in my lap, just staring at them.
They’re small and pale, trembling a little.
Three to four months. That’s all I get before my next heat.
And if I don’t bond before then… no. Not going there.
My hands look so useless. My body’s already starting to break down because I can’t let the wrong alphas touch me. Heart still hoping, somehow. Always hoping, even when it shouldn’t.
A few months to find a pack that doesn’t make my omega want to crawl out of her skin.
Man, that seems bleaker than it should. How is it so easy for the other omegas?
They come in, meet packs, find one that fits, and then…
happily ever after. Or so the story goes.
Then I come in and meet packs like the Fosters.
I try to think about it. What’s so wrong with his pack? I can’t put my finger on it. Is Brennan really that—
Nope. Not finishing that sentence. Instead, I pull on my clothes, fold the paper gown into a neat little square and set it on the exam table like it matters. I walk out.
My mom’s in the lobby, pretending to read a magazine.
It’s upside down, which is so her I almost want to laugh.
But she drops it the second she sees me, stands up, and gives me this look.
My mom’s never been able to hide anything from me and it goes both ways.
We’re too alike. Same brown hair, though hers is more silver now.
Same bright blue eyes, only hers are tired in a way that looks earned.
We’re both small and curvy—the ‘omega build,’ as everyone calls it.
She was beautiful once. You can see it in the old photos, back when my dad was alive and she still glowed.
Now she’s… faded. Like someone left her out in the sun too long. She lives for me and my sister, pours everything she’s got into keeping us safe. Like she thinks she can save us from ending up like her. Alone.
My dad was her scent match. The real thing.
He never bothered with a pack. Told everyone his girls were enough.
He died in a car accident years ago and took half of my mom with him.
She goes through the motions now. She tries, she really does.
But I can see how scared she is that the same thing will happen to me.
Or worse, that I’ll never bond at all and she’ll have to watch me waste away.
She was old enough to stay alone when he died. If omegas age out before losing their mate, the body lets go. No more heats, no more hormone surges. Otherwise, I’d probably have a couple stepfathers by now.
“How did it go?” she asks, way too bright. “Good news, I hope?”
I want to lie. I really do. But she knows me. She sees right through the smile I try to fake, and her face just crumples.
“Oh, Lily.” She hugs me so hard I can barely breathe, as if she can keep death out by sheer grip. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s bad, isn’t it?”
I nod into her shoulder.
“Come on.” She wipes her eyes, grabs her purse, and leads me out to the car. “Come to my house. You can eat with me and I’ll bring you back to the registry later.”
The drive’s only twenty minutes, but it drags.
I watch the city go by. Coffee shops, bookstores, parks full of little kids with omegas watching them.
Sometimes a pack walking together, alphas flanking their omega.
That should be me. If I were normal, I’d have found my pack already.
I’d be walking in the park with alphas who make me feel safe.
Maybe pregnant like my sister. Maybe happy.
Instead I’m here. Next to my mom, wondering how to say “I might be dying” without making her fall apart.
After a while she just says, “Lily, just tell me. I can handle it.”
So I do.
I tell her about the hormones, the suppressants, the failure rates.
The pheromones that aren’t doing their job anymore, the chronic stress, the risks.
I tell her about the upcoming heat, how I have to bond or at least find a steady source of alphas or else.
I tell her everything except the part where I don’t know if I can do it.
If I can really let myself be claimed by alphas I don’t really want, even if it means living.
By the time I’m done, we’re parked in the driveway, and my mom is sobbing. Not the quiet, pretty kind of crying. It’s messy and loud, her whole body shaking. She’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough to whiten her knuckles.
“Mom…” I reach for her, but she waves me off.
“Just… a minute,” she chokes out.
So I sit there and let her cry, feeling like every tear is my fault. I could’ve been normal. Could’ve just picked one of the two packs that wanted me over the last six years. Instead, she’s stuck here, afraid she’s going to lose me, too.
Finally, she gets herself together. She wipes her face and turns to me. Her eyes have gone hard. She’s not letting me go without a fight.
“The gala tonight,” she says. “You’re going.”
“I will.”
“And you’re going to actually try this time, Lily. No more hiding in the corner. You’re going to smile and talk and maybe give someone a real chance.”
I nod. Even though my stomach is already turning. She doesn’t understand that I’ve given plenty of chances. That I’ve met packs and talked to them and applied for meet and greets only to be rejected over and over again. “Okay, Mom.”
“The Harrison pack,” she says, and it’s like she’s spitting the words. “They were good alphas. They wanted you and you turned them down.”