Page 7 of Pack Frenzy
Blending has never been my strong suit.
We keep pacing in silence. Around us, whispers spread—soft, quick, dangerous.Evaluations… viewings… today.
The words pass girl to girl until they feel inevitable.
Lily joins me halfway through the next lap. Her hands twist together until the knuckles whiten.
“Did you get any sleep?” I murmur.
“Some.” She shrugs.
The staff lead claps once. “Line up! Compliance check!”
We form rows, shuffling close. Cold morning air seeps through the thin fabric. I refuse to shiver. Lily’s breathing quickens beside me.
“Easy,” I whisper. “They want us rattled. Don’t give it to them. We’re Omegas, they need us.”
She nods, but her body trembles anyway. I shift half a step forward, blocking her from the nearest scanner. If anyone notices, they don’t comment.
They march us two circuits—maybe to log vitals, maybe just procedure. A girl near the back stumbles and vomits. A staffer notes something on her tablet but doesn’t stop. Efficiency over empathy.
When the whistle blows, we’re ushered back through the doors, down a long hallway. Or maybe I’m walking slower, dreading whatever comes next.
“Keep moving,” someone calls.
We pass the open cells and turn left down a corridor I haven’t seen. The walls here are cleaner, newer. A sign reads PROCESSING & HYGIENE with a cheerful arrow.
Rachel catches my eye and shakes her head slightly.Don’t react.
The shower block smells like chemical lemon and industrial bleach—the kind that strips everything, even hope. The tile has been scrubbed so many times that the grout’s worn thin. A single drain gurgles at the center.
My skin crawls.
“Strip. Hang up your suits. Five minutes,” an attendant calls.
I peel my jumpsuit off, hyper-aware of every bruise and the female guards blocking the exits. The shower room’s lined with polished steel instead of mirrors—Nexus doesn’t trust us with glass.
When I angle my shoulder toward one of the panels, the reflection’s warped but clear enough. The taser marks have gone purple. The needle mark on my elbow has yellowed.
Naked, we’re all the same—scared, scarred, trying not to look at each other because seeing someone else’s shame reflects your own.
The water hits lukewarm at best, and my breath catches, shoulders knotting.
Steam wafts up, and I’m twelve in our bathroom at home, Sabrina counting with me before my first book report in front of the whole school.You’re braver than you think, Jess. Remember to breathe.
I didn’t believe her then. I barely believe it now. Except I keep counting until my shoulders feel like they drop half an inch.
“Thirty seconds,” someone calls.
We hurry, but the water cuts off mid-rinse. Terrific.
Next, I towel with coarse fabric that smells like storage. Fresh gray sets wait folded on a steel table—slightly better cut, still cheap. My ankle monitor blinks: Asset Tracking – Nexus Intake.
Lily fumbles with her zipper. “They want us to look nice. Maybe the Alphas will be too, and I’ll get picked this time.”
“Any Alpha should be fucking glad to have an Omega like you.”
Her laugh is barely a breath, but it’s real.
