Page 2 of Omega Inked

I try to remember the pass code I saw in the hidden omega forums last night. We're supposed to tell them that Eve sent us--a fictional character meant to symbolize all omegas. "Um...Eve sent me?"

The woman arches an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Eve, huh? Alright, let's see what she sent me." She reaches under the counter and pulls out a tablet, tapping away at it before handing it over to me. "Sign in here and I'll know if you're telling the truth."

I take the tablet from her, my heart racing as I input the pass code. A green checkmark pops up on the screen, and the woman nods. "Alright, Eve sent you. What do you want?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. "I want a tattoo on my neck," I say, pulling my hair back to show her the spot. "A small one, just a symbol."

She studies me for a second. "You want a claiming mark?"

I nod. "That's the one."

She tilts her head and gestures over her shoulder. "Follow me."

I take a deep breath and follow her, my heart pounding in my chest. We pass through a door to a back room, where the scent of ink is even stronger. There's a tall, muscular alpha with messy dark hair sitting in a chair, his loose tank top showing off tattooed arms and a muscled back. He turns to look at me as we enter, his green eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"This is Phoenix," the tattoo artist says, nodding at the alpha. "He'll be doing your tattoo."

This doesn't seem like a good sign. I didn't think there would be any alphas here, and I gulp at the sight of him.

He's scary.

And...he smells amazing.

That's chemistry, though--and it drives me crazy. This tattoo won't do anything to stop me from getting horny every time I'm around an alpha.

Phoenix stands up, towering over me. "You sure about this?" he says, his voice low. "We just have to check before we tattoo you--the ink has synthetic pheromones in it that will make it seem like you're already mated. You won't be able to find a pack once it's done, unless you get it removed."

"I know," I say softly, trying not to tremble in fear. Sure, it would be nice to have a pack of my own, and I used to fantasize about it...but that was before I grew up, before my first heat.

Before I realized this world isn't fair to omegas like me.

"I need this," I tell him, my voice quiet. "I can't live my life like this anymore."

Phoenix studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Alright. What design do you want?"

I hadn't even thought about that. I swallow hard.

"I don't care," I tell him. "Just do it."

"Take a seat," he says.

I sit down in his chair, my shoulders rigid, and I watch as Phoenix goes over to a table and pulls on a pair of black latex gloves. He's covered in tattoos--and, I notice, he doesn't have a claiming mark of his own.

"You aren't packed up?" I ask.

"Fuck no," he mutters, glancing over his shoulder. "In my line of work...claiming an omega would be dangerous. Not enough alphas in Solstice Bay to protect an omega from our enemies."

I gulp. "You have a lot of enemies?"

"You don't want to know," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Now, let's get this over with."

He turns back to the table and begins mixing ink, his movements quick and precise. I watch him work, mesmerized by his skill.

"You're good," I say quietly. "I've never seen anyone work like you."

He grunts in response, not looking up from his task. "I've been doing this for a long time. Don't flatter me, omega."

I flinch at the word, but say nothing. He's right--I am an omega, and there's no getting around that. Not in this town, at least.

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