Page 2 of How to Lose an Omega in Twelve Days
“Yes. I want you to find someone who has lost the spirit of Christmas and rekindle it for them. You have twelve days.”
“But Christmas is in twelve days!”
“It is. I’ll pick you up on my Christmas Eve route. You’ll have to find someone in need of cheer quickly. Help them find joy in the holiday season and you will remain here to finish out your internship. Fail, and when you return, you will pack your bags and return home.”
Theo stammered a moment, but nobody argues with Santa. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled.
“Don’t you have windows tofrost?” Santa suddenly said loudly.
Why I ever thought I could get anything past him, I’d never know. I winked away. Far away, this time.
I found myself in another tree and looked around a ski resort. A very green ski resort.
“I think this place needs some fresh snow,” I said out loud.
With that, I got comfortable on my branch and settled back as the temperature dropped and the snow started falling. As I watched my handiwork, I brainstormed a way to make it up to Theo. Sure, Santa had gone easy on him, but missing out on the days leading up to Christmas in the North Pole would stink. I sat there, lost in thought until the sun started to set, casting a dreamy glow over the snow.
“I don’t like snow either.”
The annoyed voice drifted up to me and I narrowed my eyes at the sentiment. Excuse you! Who doesn’t care about snow?!
I leaned down to see a sour-faced young man pulling a suitcase out of a car nearby.
“Suit yourself. Merry Christmas!” called the driver.
“Bah! Humbug!” retorted the cranky guy.
He slammed the trunk and stomped off toward the main entrance. I shook my head and made the snow fall harder out of spite.
“Someone needs to get into the… spirit…” I said, trailing off as a brilliant idea struck me.
Chapter Two
Shaun
“What are you wearing?” my father demanded.
“Um…” I looked down at myself in confusion. I was just wearing business-casual navy pants and a red knit sweater with white snowflakes on it.
“The Christmas sweater,” he clarified, growling the word Christmas.
“Oh.” I winced, but didn’t apologize. I wasn’t sure what my father’s obsession with hating Christmas was all about, but I wasn’t going to let him make me feel bad for wearing a cozy sweater that wasn’t even that Christmasy. “I was told you want to talk to me?”
“Yes.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk and I hurried over to sit.
“A long time ago, when shifters were struggling to adapt to the modern world as we moved from pack-life to integrating more with humans, a young shifter had a brilliant, innovative idea. He purchased a beachfront resort.”
I almost rolled my eyes as I realized the dramatic introduction was just about my grandfather. Instead, I nodded.
“There, he created a packlike community, made up of shifters living on and near the resort. He employed shifters, including omegas, without discrimination. And the proceeds from the resort became a fund to support any shifters who wanted to join. The resort provided employment, housing, and security. After its success, he added several more resorts, all over the country.”
I nodded again, wondering when he was going to get to the point.
“He realized that too many resorts made it hard to supervise them. Without his oversight, he found that resorts fell below hisstandards,” my father went on, still acting like this was some sort of revelation for me. “His solution was to divide his resorts up. He gifted several to his siblings, expecting them to take the same care as him. The resorts his sister ran thrived. But his brother…” My father wrinkled his nose. “My great-uncle let the money go to his head. He opened over a dozen more resorts and did nothing to ensure they supported local shifters or treated omegas fairly.”
I couldn’t resist making a face; I was an omega. And I was eternally grateful that my family did treat us fairly.
“You know how that turned out,” he added dryly.
