Page 27 of Wild Omega

I shudder.

Rose hiccups and apologizes for not questioning if the center was legitimate, like others had. Then O-18 tells her about the OCB raid and introduces O-20, who cowers behind her while clinging to her hand. I hope he can find healing too. All of us.

The quiver in her voice reminds me of everything I’ve endured. Talking about this is all too raw, too close to home, and I’m in danger of shedding tears, which I refuse to do outside of my heats. Tears are a weakness I can’t afford. Maybe if I had a pack where I could feel utterly safe, things might be different. A family like the one forming around Rose.

I knock my knuckles against the table. “Are we going to play or what? We can fit a game in before my pack comes.” They need to fucking hurry, because I’m losing patience.

Rose chokes with a happy sob. “You’re right, O-11. They’re coming to get you.”

I can forgive her for trying to placate me, because I know all she wants is my happiness. O-9 sneaks one arm around my shoulder and tells Rose she’ll take care of me.

Rose smiles. “If you ever find your way to Darinian, get in touch.”

I wait until the video call disconnects before pushing the black-haired beauty off me. “Who’s taking care of who?” I demand, dealing out cards.

She chuckles. “Well, you take care of me, then.”

I nod and quickly finish dealing, but my mind runs riot in another direction. Rose said if we made our way to the city she lives in, we could visit. That’s truly an option now, isn’t it? I can walk out of here, get a bus pass, go places, do things that were never possible before now. Live a life not made up of lines quoted from movies.

Find people.

O-20 burrows into O-18’s side like he’s making a nest there, and I watch through my lashes as she puts her arm around him, her thumb absently stroking circles on his upper arm. I don’t think she even realizes she’s returning the affection, but something more than two omegas looking out for each other must be growing between them.

I shiver, imagining the implications of two omegas in a pack. Gosh, the scents would be overwhelming, and picture all that slick and nesting. Ugh! You’d need a large pack of healthy alphas to satisfy two omegas in heat.

When I’ve had enough playing cards and can’t bear the omega scents any longer, I say my goodbyes and head to the gym. Samantha, who always seems to be close by, picks up on my withdrawn mood as she falls into pace beside me.

“I’m glad you got to chat with your friend Rose. You know, you don’t have to wait for a pack to give you a name, if you’d rather have one now, like she does.” She casts side glances at me to assess how I’m receiving her topic. “The idea of getting a new name with a new pack is a bit outdated. Not to mention you might want to leave your number behind.”

I hum thoughtfully. “You’re right. I could. I guess it’s the remnant of a fairy tale desire to get a new name with a pack.” It wasn’t Eleven, or ‘Lev, who survived the horrors in the House of Bitches. I chuckle. Red Hawk made it through. “Call me Red, for now, while I think about it.”

“All right, done.”

I dig my hands into my pockets. “But that’s not what I was thinking about.”

“Oh? Care to share?”

“I want to get a job. I’m an actress.”

“Yeah? That sounds fun.” Samantha opens the gym’s frosted glass doors to let me go first. “After you’ve finished your onboarding with us, we can sign you up for some acting classes at Laversham University.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need acting lessons ’cause I’m already an actress.” Guess they won’t be able to understand the immersive acting I’ve been doing for years. You can’t get that sort of instruction in a classroom.

A doubtful look washes across her face, but she hides it quickly. “Hmm, well, I don’t know much about the entertainment industry, but I think you’d need an agency or a manager to help you with contracts and auditions. I’ll look into it and see what I can find.”

“Thanks.” I’ll do my own searching too on one of the Center’s computers and see if our research aligns. After what I’ve been through, I’m not taking anyone’s say-so as gospel.

The possibilities spill through my mind as I set the treadmill for a warmup and step onto the conveyor belt. Around me, omegas of all shapes and sizes lift, row, cycle, and run, and a smile tilts my lips at the normality of it. Time for this omega to sweat.

Heat burns through my body as I push myself to my limit, only stopping when I’m panting and trembling with exertion.

“All good?” Samantha asks, appearing from a side room as I finish up and mop myself down with the towel. It’s like she’s a wizard with teleportation skills.

“Better than good,” I gasp out, feeling the pressure of a stitch in my side. I lost weight during my two months of isolation, and I need to tone up more before I look for my next acting gig. Plus, no one wants to see an actor who runs awkwardly.

But hunting down my acting career requires getting out of these concrete walls.

I use a corner of the towel to scratch the roots of my hair. “Hey, you have, like, a book of alpha scents or something, right?” Someone mentioned it as part of the Center’s onboarding process, like it’s some kind of holy grail for omegas.

---