Page 6 of Vallaverse: Noir
It will be fine. I'm putting in my order.
I send the text with the numbers printed on the scent cards and wait for the confirmation. The operator, or organizer, will contact the Alphas and make sure they're on board with helping me through it together, and then I'll get a text with a new number to send a message to when I either go into heat or have another unbearable spike. That number will direct my message to both Alphas and all I'll have to do at that point is wait by the door.
I'm excited.
I think I'm excited.
I might be anxious.
Either way, I'll be taken care of until the Selection.
Several agonizing minutes after I send the numbers, I finally get the confirmation text. My stomach tightens with anticipation as I read the words on my phone. I've never been one to call an Alpha for an unnecessary fuck, but the temptation is there for the new experience. I can wait. It isn't like I won't be having another heat spike in the next day or so. I can wait.
The next spike wakes me up in the middle of the night. I was having the most delicious dream about cuddling in my nest with my faceless Alpha when it turned into a nightmare of sweat and burning. I blindly reach for my phone on the nightstand, cursing when I knock it onto the floor. It takes all my concentration to slide onto the carpet instead of rolling off the bed and dropping into a clumsy heap beside my bed. The phone has somehow made it almost to the center of the room and I crawl toward it on my knees with one hand while I clutch my stomach with the other.
That's the thing about the fully developed and mature Omega reproductive system. Young Omegas who are only just beginning to have heats often have irregular, violent heats with the occasional gentle heat that fools them into believing that it's not going to be so bad for the rest of their lives. Once our bodies mature, we trade those irregular heats for consistent and intense heats. If we have violent heats as we're growing into ourselves, then our heats will probably always be violent. If an Omega is lucky enough to have slow-moving gentle heats, then that's what they’ll usually be blessed with for the rest of their lives.
I was not so blessed.
Even my spikes are torture.
I roll onto my back the moment my fingers make contact with my phone. It takes me a few fumbled attempts, but I send a short message to the number in the confirmation text.
I'm spiking hard. Thank you for coming.
I need to get to the door. I'll have to unlock it. By the time I get to it, I'm drenched in sweat and slick. They're going to have to peel my boxers off of me. The phone chirps with a message just as I twist the latch and I groan. I don't want conversation. I don't need digital flirting to get me in the mood right now.
Need the address, sweetheart.
I respond with my address, my fingers trembling so hard I nearly drop the phone. The sudden urge to gather nesting materials hits me hard and I start dragging myself toward the closet. I keep a basket of my preferred materials there. I don't like crawling around in misery to find things that feel right. Being proactive and prepared has saved me miles and hours of agony.
The phone chirps again before I can start moving across the floor.
OTW, from a different number than the first text.
I just know the short, clipped reply is from the Alpha with the aggressive scent. That's telling. I'm not sure if I should be apprehensive or excited. It doesn't matter what I am. They've been vetted and they'll take care of me tonight.
Minutes drag on into what feels like years while I grip my aching and dripping cock through the soaked fabric of my boxers and beg for time to move faster. With all of the technological advances we have, how is it possible that no one has come up with a way to teleport? Footsteps sound in the hall and I can't help the whimper that escapes my lips. They're here.
I wait, my eyes trained on the doorknob, willing it to turn.
It doesn't. There is pacing outside my door, but my doorknob remains untouched.
What are they doing?
I'm going to die before they decide to come in.
A second set of footsteps approach and I listen to a short muffled conversation, then the doorknob slowly twists and my door is pushed open.
The first Alpha is male. The one with the cherry scent. He's not traditionally handsome, but he isn't unattractive. He's tall and bulky, his middle showing a deeper fondness for good food instead of the gym. He smiles down at me as he steps inside and moves to the side to let the other Alpha in.
The second Alpha's scent nearly overpowers the first as he turns to lock the door behind him. He's the same height as the first Alpha, but he's more muscular than bulky. He also doesn't smile at me.
“You smell delicious,” the first Alpha purrs. Slick pours from me and he smirks. “Absolutely delicious. How long before you go into heat?”
“Two weeks,” I answer through gritted teeth.
“I'll cancel my plans,” he hums. Every word he speaks makes me harder, wetter.
