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“Your injuries from before are healing all right?” Dr. Berthand checked, shoving the tablet back into his bag.
“From when I was held by a sadistic cult that was determined to break me into the unwilling fifth bride of a heartless alpha who thought he was humanity’s chosen savior?” The snark in my tone had enough heat to burn a village to the ground. “I mean, yeah. I’m healing.”
Sighing, Dr. Berthand picked up his bag. “I do apologize for your ordeal, Hazel. I have a young granddaughter, and I can’t imagine her suffering as you did for years.”
“Then why does OS keep making it worse? I have my pack. Can’t they just let me go?” I demanded.
“To be honest, I don’t see that happening,” he admitted.
I stumbled back a step. “Why not?”
“Hazel, not all of those who work at OS feel the same way upper administration does, but we are very aware that omegas are becoming increasingly scarce. And that threatens to topple the very foundation of our entire society.”
“Then society needs to invest in better concrete,” I gritted out.
“They do, which is what makes you unique. A beta that transitioned to an omega?” He shook his head. “Before this year, there were maybe fifty total instances in recorded history of that happening.”
Awareness prickled up my spine, slithering across my skin. “What do you mean before this year?”
His brows knit together. “I’m only sharing what was shared with the medical community recently, but there have been eleven cases of beta born omegas presenting in the last eighteen months. They’ve been found across the country, and one in the United Kingdom.”
My mouth went dry. “How? Why?”
“We don’t know. Most have been tested, but there’s nothing discernable in their history that suggests a concrete reason why. Perhaps it’s nature, finding a way to balance the designations.” His lips thinned.
“But you don’t think so.” I watched him carefully.
“I think eleven—now twelve—young women suddenly changing designations isn’t a random coincidence. But there’s nothing that can prove it otherwise,” he replied, his tone quiet, like someone might be listening to us. “The only thing these women seem to have in common is that they’re all orphans.”
My eyes went wide. “What?”
He gave a grim nod. “All of them were taken into the care of Omega Services and a pack was found for them within six weeks.”
“I have a pack,” I whispered.
“Not until you’re bitten,” he countered. “And I’ve heard rumors that there are other packs already requesting a meeting with you.”
Fear detonated like a tidal wave of emotion. “What if I bond with my pack now?”
His expression turned grave. “That would be very ill-advisable, Miss Jones. Omega Services is not an organization you want to cross. Your pack has influence. Let them use it to secure your future, but you must play by the OS’s rules.”
My lips twisted into a humorless smirk. “I’ve never been much of a rule follower, Dr. Berthand.”
He inclined his head. “Very well. Please know that I will do what I can, and that not all involved in Omega Services are bad. There’s a lot of desperate people out there, and desperate people often do unexpected things.”
“I know,” I replied, steel in my voice. “I’m one of them.”
47
Hazel
I didn’t wait for Crew and Rhett to come back in. I didn’t go check on Kellan and Jude, either. I needed to think, so I went to my nest.
As soon as I opened the door and was hit with the overwhelming scents of my pack together, the nervous energy vibrating in my chest started to settle. Already this place was becoming my home.
And my home needed some help.
I worked on auto-pilot, stripping the sheets from the bed and throwing them in the small laundry room attached to the massive bathroom. After starting the load, I changed the mattress cover and removed the dirty blankets and throws. Some of the pillows needed to be washed, too, so I piled them all up in the laundry space.
