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I’m going to find the omega.
I take off at a run, following the heavy perfume through the house, out into the garden.
In the dark there’s a hazy slim figure with white blond wavy hair, darker at the roots. Her. She smells like honey and nectarines. She smells like home.
But something… Something is off. Just slightly. I pull up short, trying to figure out what it is. She’s bathed in shadows, her features mostly hidden from me, besides the glint of moonlight off her hair.
Wrong, something deep in me says.
I don’t care, replies the hindbrain part of me, that only wants to fuck.
The sound of thundering footsteps behind me forces me into action, my feet carrying me forward as the omega whines, reaching out for me.
Rule 27: When in heat, find your alphas
I’m on fucking fire. My whole body is burning with fever and need.
I know what this is. Experienced it once. My first heat when I was twenty. But this is worse, so much worse. I can feel the two medications in me battling for dominance. The one that paralyzed me, keeps me immobile, is bowing under the pressure of whatever they gave me to force my heat.
I take stock of my body, trying to see if anything else is wrong, and it’s at this point that I register that, although my shirt and bra remain on my body, I have no pants on. Or underwear—when did she take those off of me? It’s enough of a shock for me to force my eyes open, but once I do, I immediately wish I hadn’t.
There’s a bright light over my face, making my eyes water uncontrollably, because I can’t fucking blink or close them. A moment later, Dr. Attersby blocks the light, fully masked with one of those little caps on her head, like she’s about to do surgery. Oh, shit. Is she about to do surgery? On me? What will she do? What will she take?
A whine pulls from my chest and she shakes her head at me. “Shhh, I told you I’m not going to hurt you. We just have to do this one thing and then we can go.”
Go? Something tells me she’s not going to just let me go back to my pack, that she won’t just give me something to counter the effects of either of the drugs she gave me.
A pathetic, needy whimper pulls from my chest as a cramp hits, hard and fast, making slick gush out of me onto the exam table. She glances down and then the mask bulges as her eyes crinkle like she’s smiling. “Oh, good. It’s working.”
I want to protest when she moves to the end of the table, between my legs. The exam table tips my head just enough that I can see her, watch as she puts first one of my feet in a stirrup and then the other. It is horrifying.
I’ve never felt so exposed.
I am no stranger to being in this position. Dr. Callahan made me come in twice a year for an exam, just to be sure there weren’t any lasting physical effects of the suppressants.
Dr. Attersby looks up at me, before looking back between my legs like it’s some kind of treasure trove of knowledge. It’s fucking weird and I make a noise of protest. “I’m not sure how much we’ll need, so I’m going to just take all of it. Or… at least enough to fill the container.”
As she says that, she holds up a rather large plastic cup, like the ones people piss into for a urinalysis, but bigger. Another cramp hits, and she moves to catch the slick pouring out of me.
My vision goes blurry, tears steam from my eyes, and I look away. The last thing I want is to watch as she violates me, takes from me. In the name of… what? Research? She wants to find out the effects of RMD on an omega in heat?
One of her hands pats my knee in what I think is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it just makes me want to scream. The most I can get out is another keening cry. But… I think my mouth moved a slightest bit, my lips parted. Is it wearing off?
God, I hope so.
I lose track of how long I lay there with her catching my slick in that cup like some kind of fucked up soft serve machine. I’m too busy trying to focus on moving my face, my fingers, any part of my body she can’t see.
At one point, she looks up at me sharply. “If you could give me some kind of warning when you feel a cramp coming, I would appreciate it. I’ll be able to gather more, much faster if you do.”
The woman is an omega. She should know cramps come without warning. They aren’t like a fucking orgasm that you feel building and building until they pop. They just hit like a fucking adder.
I just try my best to narrow my gaze at her, while not moving my face, and she sighs and goes back to staring at my vagina. If I think about it too much, about what’s actually happening here, I might have a mental breakdown.
Yes, it’s much better to think of forcing the drugs out, of being able to move again.
The door opens and I hear Dr. Attersby murmur, “take this to the lab and get the pheromone spray started. I’ll be along shortly to help.” Then she glances over her shoulder at me. “We might need to bring in an easement team.” There’s a murmur from whoever is on the other side. Dr. Attersby shakes her head. “No. Just tell them we have an omega who came in already spiking. They don’t need to know we did this to her.”
I’m not sure what she thinks will happen when the alphas come in and find me unable to move. But maybe she’ll just say something like I was a danger to myself in the throes of my heat.
