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She sighs, a mix of resignation and tolerance. “Legally, I can’t keep you here against your will, but as the new dean, I must urge you to reconsider. Omegas might have full autonomy now, but your first heat is approaching. Without a pack, you face serious risks.”
Ah, the inevitable reminder of my impending heat. “I’m well aware,” I retort confidently, “and I have an ace up my sleeve—a skilled mage who can keep me sedated. I plan to sleep through the worst of it, even if it’s risky.”
Dean Anderson nods, a stray gray curl falling across her forehead. “Very well. I’ll authorize your leave, but on two conditions,” she begins, her expression serious. “I’m introducing monthly galas, starting this Friday. They’ll be open to all unbonded omegas and gammas, free of charge, in our ballroom and atrium. I want you to attend these events. Mingle and meetthe alphas of Terra and their packs. Who knows, you might even find a compatible match.”
I inhale slowly, processing her words, then exhale with deliberate calm. Does she not understand? I have no interest in a pack. My dream is a peaceful life with a horde of cats and maybe a no strings attached companion for those challenging heat periods.
“Before you dismiss the idea,consider it,” she urges again.
I hum thoughtfully, weighing my options. “Give me one year away from this place and your little parties,” I propose, understanding the need for a compromise. “Let me embrace my omega life for one year.” I can tell she wants to object, it’s written all over her face, but she nods.
“Alright,” she agrees, her lips curling into a knowing smile, as if she’s privy to secrets beyond my understanding. Ridiculous, considering I’m the protagonist of my own story, and she’s merely a supporting character.
I really didn’t think she’d go for it.
The room’s musty scent of old books and polished wood is punctuated by a faint floral fragrance—a subtle reminder of the sanctuary’s gardens just outside, a world away from me now.
“And the other condition?” I ask, itching to leave.
“If anything goes wrong, I will assign you a bodyguard,” she states solemnly, her seriousness making me suppress a wave of nervousness. “This is nonnegotiable. The administration will give you a job and an apartment. There are alpha business owners willing to have an omega as an employee, though I will say these are limited. In a year, we’ll review your situation.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Clearly, these are three conditions, not two, but I remain silent, knowing when to hold back. I’ve won this round.
“Fine, one year without the galas and a potential bodyguard if needed,” I say, although I am never going to those galas. I’d rather shave off all of my hair. “But after that, we renegotiate.” I echo her terms for clarity.
Dean Anderson nods, satisfaction in her eyes. “Agreed.” We shake hands, sealing the deal.
“Did you say gammas?” I ask, casually wiping my hand on my pants as I retract it.
“As you’re aware, gammas are a lesser version of omegas,” she remarks, her tone casual despite the offensive nature of her words. “I’m opening the sanctuary to all gammas.”
“That’s a lot of gammas,” I say incredulously.
“Not all will come, but I’m sending welcome packages to every gamma in Terra in case they are a scent match with any available pack.” She shifts uncomfortably, a sign she’s aware of the implications. Gammas outnumber omegas, and recent discoveries show they can ascend to omega status if matched perfectly with an alpha scent or bonded pack.
“So it’s become normal,” I respond nonchalantly. I’m not offended at all by the gamma presence. In fact, there are far more packs than omegas. If gammas can find a scent match, then more omegas can exist on their own terms.
“And I’ve arranged for you to live near a gamma named Violet. She’ll be in the apartment across from yours,” she says with a smirk, as if she scored a point in some game.
I stand, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. “I’ll go get my keys now,” I announce, ready to embark on this new chapter.
As I reach the door, she calls out, “Oh, and Seraphina.”
I pause, almost out the door, and turn back to her.
“Be careful. The world has changed.”
Her words carry an ominous tone, one I brush off as I step out of her office. A year of freedom awaits me, defined on my terms, yet a small voice in my head cautions me to be wary,especially at these galas. The last thing I need is to fall for some alpha prince and his merry pack of horny men.
CHAPTER 2
Seraphina
One yearlater
“Cupid seems moreinterested in his coffee with a splash of whiskey than in aiming his arrows at my round behind,” I joke, giving my friend Violet a playful wink. She cackles from her corner in the bakery where we work. “Don’t laugh at me. I don’t need that kind of trauma in my life—well, any more than I’m already dealing with.”
Violet attempts to clear her throat, but it erupts into a comical coughing fit, likely karma for her earlier alpha-centric advice.
