Page 28 of Wild Omega

The whole reason we’re here, apart from medical checks and restorative support, which I think is a fancy term for psychological evaluations, is to find our scent matches from alphas who’ve submitted to the state’s scent record.

“Oh, yes. Do you want to check it out already?”

“Fuck yes, if it gets me out of here. Let’s see what all the fuss is about.” Would be nice to walk in and pick out my DNA-fated mates, for sure, but I won’t hold my breath.

She throws me a pained smile. “Sounds like you’re in a rush. But the scents aren’t going anywhere.”

“No time like the present, right? At least that’s what Alpha Spy says.”

Samantha checks something on her phone. “Well, the room’s free, so, as you wish,” she says, her grin growing more genuine.

I shoot my index fingers at her. “Oh, I know that reference.”

Samantha chuckles and leads the way.

My breathing settles as we head to a section deeper in the compound than I’ve been before. I balk outside the door, glancing warily around at the small, darkened space.

“It’s safe,” the beta coaxes. “We can leave the door open if that puts you at ease.”

I glance at her. I guess my acting skills are slipping if she’s figured out my trigger points.

Samantha interprets my wary stare as more hesitation. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but no one here will hurt you, Red.”

“Then turn the lights up,” I say stiffly.

“Sure.” Samantha flicks the dimmer on the wall, and suddenly the room looks less like a horror show.

I straighten and breathe deep. I damn well don’t need Samantha thinking I’m a shrinking violet. With a nod to myself, I step into the room. In the middle sits a table with a big glass box that looks like it’s fallen straight out of a pandemic or sci-fi movie—the kind with rubber gloves going inside to put your hands into. Beside the glass box waits a notepad and pen, and a cluster of armchairs preside over the far corner.

“The glass protects the alpha scents from getting omega traces on them,” Samantha says as she leaves the door ajar and waves me toward the plush stool at the center table. “And vice versa.”

“Thank God for that,” I mutter. A weird odor seeps through the hole—a scent I don’t want to get on me. I wrinkle my nose as I plant myself on the stool and lean forward to rest my face against the cutout.

The powerful scents of thousands of alphas hit me all at once, and I gag, spinning away on the stool to dry retch. Lemon and saltwater combine with drains, wet dog, baking bread, gasoline, and alcohol. Nothing could have prepared me for that disgusting cocktail of enhanced alphaness.

“Shit!” I mutter as my saliva waters in warning and my stomach climbs into my throat. “Samantha, I think I’m gonna—” My body rejects the stench in my nose, and I vomit on the floor, tensing with each wave.

Samantha springs into action, a horrified look on her face like I’ve just desecrated their sanctuary. Well, I kinda just did.

“Damn, I’m so sorry,” I mutter when it passes, leaning precariously on the corner of the table and trying not to smear filth everywhere. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and sneer at the holy grail glass box. Why would things ever be simple for the Red Hawk?

Cleaning staff, buckets, mops, and a big carpet cleaning machine all turn up in the next two minutes, and I mumble my apologies to each new person who arrives to deal with my sick.

Samantha runs a hand through her hair. “Well, I’ve never seen that happen before. I take it you have a supersensitive nose?”

I laugh dryly. “That’s putting it mildly.”

She looks from me to the glass box, blinking as she works through the dilemma. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can think about what to do after. Maybe if I separate the pages out individually, you might handle it, but that could take months to get through.”

I can’t wait that long for my alphas. The voices in my head are incessant, and two are louder and unhappier than ever. Packs need to find one another.

Heat sluices through me as I dejectedly follow Samantha back to my room.

It’s not until I feel a second flush of warmth bubbling under my skin that I stop moving and pay attention.

The nurse swings about. “You okay?”

I clench my fists. “What’s the date today?”

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