Page 100 of Wild Omega

Pretty? Yes.

Sexual? Yes.

Normal? A whole universe of no.

How much will he really tolerate before he pushes me away? I can’t risk it. One alpha already rejected me.

But I still have to answer his question. “Just a gut feeling, really.” It’s lame, a cop-out, but I’m exhausted and my body aches.

And just like with everything else, Rickon accepts my answer. “Okay, Red. Do you want to shower and go to bed?”

“Yeah.” My ribs ache from vomiting and my throat’s raw. I’ve had enough of the hard way for a lifetime. I don’t think alphas are supposed to come into the living quarters at the Center, but I can barely stand on my own, so Samantha and Rickon hook me under the arms to steady me. We all stink of my rejected insides, making this situation far from sexy, but I’m grateful not to be doing it alone.

Rickon loads me into the en suite shower, clothes and all, and when I nearly slip over, he gets in as well. My clothes peel away piece by piece from my body to block up the drain, but we don’t care. My alpha smothers body wash onto the loofah and scrubs it in circles all over my back and shoulders before turning me around.

I can’t bear the sad worry in his tender gaze. “If you think I’m going to cry, you’re wrong.”

He pauses to tuck wet hair behind my ear, and then cups my chin. “I know you’re crying on the inside.”

Fuck, he’s right. Like the mascara trickling down his cheeks, I’m coming undone piece by piece. Why has nothing gone the way I expected? My alphas didn’t come. One rejected me, and I haven’t been able to find the other. I lean my head on Rickon’s chest, stealing strength from his warmth.

“What do we do now, Red?” he asks softly, massaging coconut-scented conditioner through my hair.

“You get me out of here, and I become a movie star.” One way or another, I’ll find them all. I have to.

I think I fall asleep on my feet, because the next thing I know, Rickon’s sitting me in bed and blow-drying my hair. His gentle lips press against my temple as he lays me down and tucks the comforter around me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing as pain stabs through my brain. My alpha’s in danger and I can’t find him.

How do I rescue someone I can’t find?

Chapter forty-two

Red

I stare across the room at my archnemesis. No matter how many boxes I tick, the head psychologist seems determined to keep me here. Oblivious to my anger, or maybe just ignoring it, Dr Woods pulls off her glasses and cleans them on her shirt hem.

“What makes you think the next heat will be different, Red?”

Fuck! She’s so hung up on making me talk about my heats; it’s enough to drive me insane. Maybe that’s how psychology works. Make the clients insane to keep yourself in a job. “I’ll have my alpha with me,” I reply tartly, struggling to maintain my sweet, vulnerable Daisy character.

Dr Woods sighs. “This isn’t something you can ignore, Red. You locked yourself in a room and threatened a nurse. I know you don’t want to admit it, but even your eyes close up when I talk about heats. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but not even having an alpha or pack will change your trauma response.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” I say sulkily. It’s not like they could’ve studied every single case known to man.

Dr Woods rubs at her temples. “You’re due for your heat in three weeks. We’ll prepare a nest for you here and allow your alpha to come in. That way we can monitor your health.”

“Fuck that!” I cry, standing up. “I don’t want a bunch of sickos watching me and my alpha go at it like rabbits.” Although I already know I won’t be doing that. The abuse that happened to me and my own craziness before now was private. I don’t think I could bear the shame otherwise.

Despite all the brave words, my upcoming heat scares me more than anything I’ve been through so far. I don’t want my alpha to see me raging like I’m demon possessed. I was thinking I’d find a hotel room for three days and lock myself away. As long as I drink water, I can survive for seventy-two hours.

A tiny voice in the back of my mind asks about the excruciating heat fever, but I brush it away. It’s essential I maintain my composure in front of the doc, and I’m not doing a good job of it today. Going through the scent book and not finding a single scent match rattled my confidence.

Not to mention my head feels like it could explode any second from the pressure of my unknown alpha’s rage. Or pain. I’m not sure which one. Distress for sure.

“I can’t release you until I know you’ll be safe, Red. That’s Omega Center policy.”

“I think I need to take a break,” I mutter, bracing my aching head in my hands.

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