Page 34 of Eight Count Heat
His destination becomes clear as he approaches the campus coffee cart. The only place that serves food before 6 AM, mostly for med students and athletes. Someone's already waiting there. A small figure with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Reese.
I slow down, finding a good spot behind the big oak tree about twenty meters away. Close enough to see but not hear their conversation.
Their body language tells the story. Reese stands with her arms crossed, shoulders tight. Defensive. Eli keeps his distance, which is unusual since he's normally less careful about personal space than most Alphas. They're talking quietly, Eli doing most of the talking at first, Reese mostly shaking her head.
I check my phone. 4:37 AM. They'll need to wrap this up by 4:50 to make it to practice on time.
What could be so important that it requires a secret pre-dawn meeting?
Then Eli hands Reese something small. A blister pack of medication which she quickly stuffs in her back pocket. The exchange seems significant, especially how her posture relaxes right after.
I've been watching Reese closely since she arrived. Not in a creepy way. It's just natural curiosity mixed with family business. Wu Technologies focuses heavily on designation pharmaceuticals, and my father expects me to join the company after graduation. Specifically, their Omega Wellness Division, even though I'd rather stick to pure research.
So I notice things about designations that others might miss. Like how Reese keeps precise distance from all Alphas. How she avoids common areas during busy times. How she has no scent signature at all, not even the mild pheromones typical of Betas.
Most telling: how she tracks Jackson's location constantly, giving him more space than anyone else on the team. And Jackson's sensitivity to Omega pheromones is well-known after what happened with Meredith his freshman year.
The pieces fit together pretty simply: Reese Callahan isn't a Beta. She's an Omega on suppressants.
And based on this morning's pill exchange, Eli knows and is helping her hide it.
Their conversation shifts. Eli gestures toward the team house, Reese shakes her head hard. He steps closer and says something that makes her pause, then reluctantly nod.
They both check the time. 4:46 AM. Eli points toward the boathouse, Reese nods. They separate, taking different paths to the same destination.
I wait thirty seconds, then follow at a distance.
My mind works through what this means. If Reese is an Omega, her presence on our team violates University Policy SRU-478.3. Which was enacted after the 2019 Concordia University scandal where five Alphas bonded with an Omega team manager, resulting in lawsuits and policy changes across college athletics. Sable Ridge explicitly prohibits bonded athletic teams now, despite their performance advantages, calling the risks "unacceptable to institutional integrity."
But that doesn't explain why she left Westlake's women's team, which wouldn't have the same bonding risks. Unless the timing of her departure lines up with Westlake's aggressive enforcement of their "Omega Disclosure Policy" requiring all Omega athletes to register with administration and undergo mandatory heat supervision. The policy was widely criticized as discriminatory, forcing Omegas to either publicly declare their status or falsify records.
She chose a third option: transfer to a program where she could pass as Beta and avoid both disclosure and whatever stigma she thinks comes with revealing her designation. Smart, but risky.
As I near the boathouse, Gray's Range Rover is already in the parking lot. Our captain always arrives first. Bo's truck pulls in as I approach, the big guy yawning as he gets out.
"Morning, brainiac," he calls out, spotting me. "You're earlier than usual."
I shrug. "Couldn't sleep. Too much caffeine yesterday."
"Your brain ever shut off?" He falls into step beside me, morning grogginess doing nothing to diminish how intimidating he is.
"Not really," I admit.
Bo chuckles. "Sometimes I think you're more computer than human, Wu."
If only. Computers don't get curious about things that aren't their business. They don't follow teammates to secret meetings or piece together puzzles about designation deception.
Inside the boathouse, Gray is already setting out equipment mechanically. Eli stands near the oar rack, checking his phone. No sign of Reese yet.
"Where's Callahan?" Gray asks without looking up. "Practice starts in six minutes."
"Probably on her way," Bo answers, stretching his arms above his head. "She's never late."
Right on cue, the door opens and Reese enters. Her face reveals nothing of her early meeting with Eli.
"Morning," she says briskly, setting down her bag. "I was thinking we should focus on the start sequence today. Our first twenty strokes are still off."
