The pulse grew stronger, unfurling low in my body. It was a quiet awakening, I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Instinctive, curious, and dangerous ineveryway.
Silas didn’t move or speak. He just watched me, jaw tight and fist clenched, as if he were doing everything he could to hold himself back from embracing his hunger.
And somehow, his restraint made it so much harder to lookaway.
It was only a short drive to Dr. Hampton’s office. I noted the building’s sign, Omega Training Center, as we pulled into the underground parking garage. We exited the vehicle and took an elevator up to the third floor.
I was finally here.
The Omega Training Center.
The place I thought I was going to five years ago, when Marco’s men showed up at my house impersonating Arca transport drivers. They had been calm, official, and practiced in the way they spoke. I didn't second guess anything as it seemed so routine, like I was just another omega being transported for enlistment.
My mother stood in the doorway as I stepped into the transport van, her hand lifting in a small wave, and her expression carefully composed.
At the time, I told myselfeverything was fine, that this was exactly how it was supposed to happen, and that the unease in my chest was just nerves. But there had been something in her eyes. Something I didn’t want to name at the time.
Guilt.
I ignored it then, pushed it down and told myself I was imagining things.
But the truth was, I always knew, long before Marco ever confirmed it aloud.
My mother sold me.
He made sure I never forgot either, bringing it up whenever he wanted to break me down further, always reminding me of her debts, and how easy it had been to exchange me for wiping the slate clean. Her only omega daughter traded like nothingmore than an object.
My mother told me she had arranged transport to the Omega Training Center, all the while knowingexactlywhere I was really going.
When a registered omega doesn’t show up for mandatory enlistment, Arca investigates. But my mother and Marco had already prepared for that. All she had to do was lie, say I’d run, disappearing to avoid enlistment. Even back then, Marco had sources within Arca, already on his payroll, making sure those lies were believed and the investigation was shut down, quickly and quietly.
And just like that… I was gone.
I had enrolled to start training at eighteen, just like every other omega. Life was supposed to look so different. This wasn't what I thought my future would be.
But my past felt so distant now.
Like it belonged to someone else.
I barely recognize the girl I was before that van door closed.
And now here I was, a woman, finally standing where I thought I had been going all those years ago.
When the elevator doors opened, a hallway stretched long and quiet, lined with numbered doors. Dr. Hampton stood in front of one, waiting to greet us.
“Lena, thank you for meeting me here today,” she said warmly. “Sorry for the change in routine, but during our session, I’ll be running a few tests, which will require the equipment in my office.”
She opened the door and gestured inside. Instead of entering her office, I stepped back, brushing into Silas. My shoulders collided with his solid chest. Leaning down, he looked at mewith a hardened expression.
“Go inside, little mute,” he ordered gruffly. Then his tone softened as he stepped closer, close enough that his lips barely brushed the shell of my ear. Goosebumps rippled across my skin.
“I’m right here,” he whispered.
His reassuring words doused my fear as I crossed the threshold, wary eyes sweeping Dr. Hampton's office. I cataloged the space automatically, checking corners and exits, looking for anything that might signal danger, before allowing myself to take another step forward.
The office was dimly lit, with overhead lights kept off in favor of soft table lamps which cast a warm glow across the room. Nothing was harsh or abrupt. Every wall was lined with framed photographs of smiling faces, candid and unguarded. I briefly wondered if any of the people in them were real, or if the photographs were staged, taken for Arca propaganda.
Tall bookshelves filled one side of the space, packed with medical texts and well worn binders, their spines labeled and organized with care. From a small speaker tucked onto a shelf, classical piano music played quietly, the notes unobtrusive, threading through the room without demanding attention.
