Page 4 of Nanny Omega

“Nothing you do will keep me from missing them,” Ersa shot back, his voice laced with quiet longing.

Thirty minutes later, Ersa couldn’t remember his own name. He clenched his jaw, fighting to hold back a moan as the massage chair put pressure on the back of his neck and shoulders, the silicone hand-like prods sliding down his oil-slicked back digging out knots Ersa hadn’t known were there.

A shudder rippled down his spine, and his toes curled into the plush carpet beneath him as his fingers dug into the armrest.

How in the hell did Jun even find this place—an exclusive omega-only haven, no less?

Above, jets sprayed a fine mist, cooling the air with a refreshing haze. Lounge chairs lined the walls, and sleek serving bots glided between them laden with drinks and delicacies. Robed omegas moved leisurely through the room, their laughter and chatter weaving into the soft music that flowed like a lullaby, lulling everyone into a state of blissful relaxation.

Jun moaned obscenely, drawing Ersa’s eyes. The omega was sprawled on his back, his long hair tied in a messy bun atop his head, a silver capsule covering his body from his shoulders to his feet.

“What the hell is that?”

“The chair—” Another obscene moan. “—turns into a capsule for full-body immersion. There is a button on the armrest.”

As soon as Ersa pressed the button, the chair jerked and swooped to the floor before it rocked him to his back, his feet up in the air. Ersa blinked up at the ceiling, his cheeks heating. “What the fuck, Jun?”

“Give it a second,” Jun murmured lazily.

And a second later, water glided over his skin, submerging him in a warm cocoon as the silicone prods kneaded his back with rhythmic, deliberate movements. Each stroke felt like a wave rolling over his body, soft and unhurried, lulling him into a peaceful haze.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Jun murmured, sounding so far away. Ersa opened one eye to look at Jun, only to find the omega staring at him. “You look blissed-out.”

“I feel so relaxed. I didn’t realize I needed this. Thanks,” Ersa said, a deep, long yawn pulling his mouth wide. He turned away from Jun, sleep heavy in his eyes.

“You should thank Mason, not me. He was the one who arranged everything.”

Ersa snapped his head back to Jun, wide-awake. “He did?”

“Yes. He knew you wouldn’t agree to go out by yourself if he suggested it, so he asked me,” Jun said proudly, and then his tone turned wistful as he said, “I get jealous sometimes watching you two. It’s clear you love each other. If I didn’t already know, I’d never believe yours is an arranged bond. Not only did Mason save you from being taken to a commune house, but he loves you too.”

“Jun?” Ersa said softly. Being an omega on Arhu meant living as a second-class citizen. It was a silent truth, woven into the very structure of their society. Even after a hundred years of supposed progress—gleaming cities, genetic advancement, and economic growth—the old pack hierarchy still reigned, and omegas remained firmly at the bottom.

“We got bonded at the same time, remember?” Jun laughed, but the sound came out tight. They both knew he hadn’t wanted to get bonded. He’d been forced into it, like so many others.

After the scandal—when former Alpha King Deltta Kohle was caught in a compromising entanglement with his omega assistant—the tide turned for the worse for omegas. Suddenly, omegas were seen as liabilities. The public cried for their removal from all positions of power and public spaces.

In response, the Council of Alphas passed a new law, mandating that any omega nearing their first heat cycle be relocated to government-monitored commune houses. Families panicked. No one wanted their child caged in a commune. So many, like Jun and Ersa, were rushed into bonds with alphas they barely knew.

Ersa’s gaze swept across the lounge, taking in the quiet cluster of omegas scattered throughout the room. Some lay on lounges, relaxing, others chatted in low voices—all of them had either an alpha or beta stationed just outside, waiting like silent guards. None of them could move freely in public anymore. The law had caged them in invisible restraints, stripping their freedom under the guise of protection. It felt like they were sentenced to life imprisonment. Aggressive alphas hadn’t come out of the scandal unscathed either. Since Deltta Kohle had lost control—going full beast in response to his omega assistant’s heat—those with similar traits were now subject to routine testing, constant monitoring, and daily suppressants to keep their instincts in check. But despite the added scrutiny, it was hard to feel sympathy for them. They still moved freely through society, kept their careers, and lived without the restrictions forced on omegas.

Jun shook his head as if he were waking up from a dream. “What am I doing? Today is your day. We should be celebrating. Let’s go and try another machine.” Water streamed down his body, collecting in a shallow pool at his feet as he stepped out of the capsule. He reached for a drying cloth hanging on a peg fixed to the wall. “Are you coming? The dryer is this way.”

“Okay,” Ersa said.

They moved from one machine to the other, exfoliating their skin, scrubbing their feet, and getting their heads massaged. “I’m going to take a nap now,” Ersa mumbled an hour later as he settled on one of the settees in the corner. He turned onto his stomach, the settee’s cushions cradling his body so perfectly he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his mouth.

Jun laughed. “I can’t let you do that. I have to return you to your alpha.”

“Why? He knows where I am.”

“He knows, but he’s probably busy doing something amazing for you.”

“There’s more?”

Jun nodded.

Ersa groaned as he sat up. “Please don’t tell me he planned a party for me. I hate parties. The thought of standing in front of people gives me anxiety. It always has.”

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