Page 101 of Wild Omega

Dr Woods checks the clock. “No worries. We can talk again next week.”

I hesitate, knowing I should refute her. Should demand to resume tomorrow. But right now, all I can think about is getting out of this room.

I slam her door shut behind me and stumble as my head throbs. I haven’t told anyone about the migraines. It’ll just be another reason for them to keep me under observation. Although nothing’s wrong with me, the doctors could make up any old crap. But why they want to chain me up escapes my comprehension. Here I’m another mouth to feed. Unless they really have sinister reasons. What if they want to “test” my haze during the next heat?

I shudder.

Well, I have one available course of action, even though I was avoiding it. I march to my room, gathering my courage and my sanity back around me. It’s harder than I thought to pick up the phone and dial my supposed lawyer.

Callisto answers immediately. “Hi, Red.”

Hearing that familiar voice sends conflicting emotions spiraling through me. “Hello.” I chew on my lip, the silence stretching.

“I’m glad you called,” he says, voice unsure. “I’ve been wondering how you’re doing.”

“Rickon updates you, doesn’t he?” I can’t help the snappy edge leaking into my voice.

I drew a professional line between me and Callisto, but it still feels weird. I can’t help asking myself the “what if” question. What if he were my alpha, and instead of ringing for legal advice, I jumped onto my bed and told him I was spreading my legs? Phone sex with his clear, pleasant voice would be the bomb. But that’s not in our picture.

“Rickon does update me, but it’s better coming directly from you.” He pauses, and I don’t know what to say to that. “Is there something I can help you with, or did you simply want to talk?” He rushes to add, “I’m fine with it, if that’s what you want.”

Why does he have to sound so damn eager? This would be easier if he were curt like the first time, when he walked away. Phew. Get your head in the game, Red. “I’m calling for legal advice. I’ve done everything the Center’s asked of me, but they still won’t release me. I was wondering, is there anything you can do to get me out?”

He answers quickly, businesslike. “What reasons are they giving?”

I snort. “That I’m not safe.”

“Even with your alpha?”

I press one hand to my aching forehead. It feels warmer than usual. “They say—” Fuck, if he were my alpha, I’d never mention this, but I have to think of him only as my lawyer. “They say I have a personality disorder. And sometimes I don’t . . . like, I kinda have episodes when I’m a bit different.” It’s harder to admit than I thought. “Repressed trauma, or some bullshit.”

“Lots of people have personality disorders but don’t get locked up for it. Did something happen for them to use that as a reason?”

I lean against the windowsill and stare at my toes, painted gold during a pedicure I did with the other omegas yesterday. I don’t want to say it, but I can’t stall forever. “I locked myself in a room and threatened to kill a nurse’s family. Probably some other stuff.” Best to cover all bases. I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. How Callisto replies could change everything between us.

He hums lightly. “Well, the way it sounds to me, right now the Omega Center are the ones triggering your stress. You have an alpha who can be with you full-time, so I think we can make a good case.” Callisto hesitates for a moment, and then sighs. “But I have to tell you, Red, I’m a barrister on the cases coming out of the illegal trafficking center, so um—”

Strength leaches from my legs and I throw myself backward onto the bed. In the chaos of making my statement and getting hauled back to the Omega Center, I’d forgotten what Callisto said on our last phone call.

“So you know,” I murmur. I run my fingertips across the rows of scars on my collarbone. Put a needle in a person enough times and the skin can’t heal properly.

“Yeah, I know some of it.” His voice thickens like he’s the one in pain. “There’re no words to describe how sorry I am this happened to you. Trauma is totally normally in these situations, and none of it’s your fault, Red. I promise I’ll get you out of there.” He goes quiet for a moment. “But I may have to use details of your past in order to make the case.”

I tug my pillow into a better position, letting the phone fall beside my ear. It shouldn’t matter that Callisto knows I was used like a sex toy and drained of haze, but no matter what I do, I can’t stop the crawling sensation on my skin. Has he already told Rickon? I wish life had a refresh button, like the one on browsers when they stop loading properly. A nice, clean reset would down smooth, right about now.

“Still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I whisper, running my tongue over my lips. Nothing matters if I can’t get out of here. “Do what you have to do, but the psychologist here, Dr Woods, she’ll use the same story to argue I should stay here. She said they want to observe my next heat. Can you imagine?”

I shut my eyes and grind my fist into my forehead, trying to massage away the pain simmering behind the skin. As if the Bitches and the Spineless Bastard forcing their way into my heats wasn’t bad enough, now I’m supposed to let the Omega Center in on everything too?

I can’t go through that again.

A soft growl comes down the line and I stiffen, remembering Callisto really is an alpha with a strong presence. The little reminder makes me smile.

Callisto catches himself and clears his voice. “Before I can legally represent your interests, I need you to sign a letter of engagement.”

I stiffen. “Engagement?” What the fuck’s he talking about? Does he mean with Rickon?

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