Page 23 of Follow Your Instincts (Fairview City Omegaverse)

Maggie

“M aggie, dear, would you like to come out and join us for lunch?” Steffi asked.

“No,” I croaked. I was burrowed so deeply into the blankets that I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her disapproval anyway.

“Oh, chicken, it’s been three days, you can’t stay in bed anymore,” she pleaded.

“Yes, I can. I’m very good at it,” I said.

The foot of the bed dipped from Steffi’s weight. “I think it’s time for some tough love.”

I scoffed.

Steffi pulled at the blankets until she unearthed my face. I squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in from the window. She looked annoyed but concerned, like how Mrs. Rosen had looked when I was sick growing up.

“I think I’ve been quite patient, but you’ve had enough time to wallow. I don’t even know what you’re wallowing about since you won’t tell me-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.

Steffi’s nostrils flared delicately. “Yes. So you’ve said. Repeatedly.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if gathering her patience. “Please just come and have lunch, and then you can get back into bed and wallow to your heart’s content.”

I groaned. The thought of being around other people was almost unbearable.

“Dear, you’re worrying me. I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a very strong young woman. If this is about what happened the night you presented, there are some great counselors you could-”

“It’s not about that,” I interrupted. The last thing I wanted to think about was that horrific cherry on top of the disaster my life had become.

It was embarrassing . I had been around these guys, Soren excluded, for a few hours. I didn’t know them. Lachlan clearly didn’t like me at all. Ben was a shameless flirt who probably made everyone feel special. Lucas was sweet but seemed closed off.

So then why, why , did it feel like the end of the world that I wouldn’t see them again?

Why was I listening to emo music on repeat?

Why was I exclusively watching ’90s romcoms and bawling when the credits rolled?

Why was I on the verge of tears thinking about their dumb faces?

Why had I refused to shower so I could sniff my hair under the covers to try and unearth a few molecules of their scents left to huff like an addict?

Being an Omega was turning out to be the big pile of wet shit I had known it would be.

But instead of saying any of that to Steffi, who, bless her, was just trying to make sure an Omega in her care didn’t get bed sores, I rolled my eyes and sat up.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll come eat lunch.”

“Wonderful, dear,” Steffi said. “I’m going to recommend a shower first. You are a bit ripe.”

I managed not to cry as I washed the last remnants of Soren and Ben’s scents from my scalp. Progress, right?

“Oh, goodie. Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Jess said when I slumped into the dining room. Everyone had already started eating.

“Hey girlie, glad you’re back with the living,” Austin said, smiling. They passed me a plate of salmon, wild rice, and roasted root vegetables. It smelled incredible, but I had no appetite.

“Thanks,” I said dully and took the seat next to Bridget. Steffi gave me an encouraging smile and gestured for me to take a bite.

“You okay?” Bridget asked quietly.

I gave her a tiny smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. But thanks for asking.”

“Well, if you want some company tonight, we can watch Clueless ,” Bridget said. I looked at her blankly for a moment, and she returned my small smile. “I heard you watching When Harry Met Sally , You’ve Got Mail … and Sleepless in Seattle . Let’s give Meg a break.”

I snorted despite myself.

“So, did your fairy tale pack not turn out like you expected?” Jess asked.

I glared at her. “Can’t I be depressed about something other than men?”

“I don’t know, can you? In my experience, dumbass men are usually the problem,” Jess said.

I sighed. Jess did not need to know about my obsession with four guys I barely knew, one of whom I was pretty sure hated me. “I think maybe I’m going through those stages of grief for my old life. You know… anger, bargaining, depression. Maybe I’ll get to the acceptance part sometime next week.”

“Good for you, dear,” Steffi said sincerely.

After lunch, Austin bullied me into helping with the dishes and then making another batch of cookies. Despite my determination to be in a terrible mood, Austin was so friendly that it was hard to stay miserable.

The next morning, I bullied myself into going on a run and returning Kira’s many, many calls and texts .

“Oh, thank god,” Kira said when she picked up my call. “I watched this documentary last night about an Omega center that was actually the front for some weird sex cult, and I was about to come out there and bust you out.”

“Why the hell were you watching that?” I yelped. “That’s horrible!”

“Yeah, no shit! A lot of these documentaries about Omegas are dark as fuck, Mags, you have no idea,” Kira whispered.

“Okay, stop watching true crime, my life has enough crime in it without you adding things. And come on, Steffi is not a sex cult leader. Andre probably could be, but I think he mostly uses his sexiness for good.”

“So, why have you been MIA for three days if you haven’t been used in an underground brothel?”

“Nothing. Sorry. It’s stupid. I’m fine now,” I said.

Liar , I thought. I had dreamed about those kisses with Ben and Soren until they’d turned into much more than kisses and finally satisfied the base layer of arousal that had settled into my bones over the last ten days.

Apparently, Omegas can have wet dreams. Yay.

“Yeah, okay, very convincing,” Kira said sarcastically. “What happened with that pack? Did you see them over the weekend? If you weren’t being pimped out I at least hoped you were getting some Alpha dick.”

“Nope. Sorry to disappoint but I don’t think there will be any Alpha dick happening any time soon. It didn’t exactly go well,” I admitted.

“Aw, man, were they weird little freaks? Did they have a sex dungeon?”

“Kira, you have got to stop watching these documentaries. Your brain is rotting. And no. Three of them seem nice. The house was gorgeous, and I don’t think there were any sex dungeons.

One of the Alphas got territorial about his pack or something, kind of freaked out, and growled at me. Clearly, he has a problem with me.”

“I’m sorry, Mags. That really sucks. So you’re just gonna ghost them?” Kira asked.

“They wouldn’t want me around anyway if I’m fucking with their pack dynamic,” I said.

This didn’t seem strictly true. Ben had tried to call me the day after the disaster, but I didn’t answer. Then he and Soren had both texted me apologies and made it clear they wanted to see me again if I was open to it. There was no mention of Lachlan. I ignored the messages.

“What about that other pack? The boring ones,” Kira said.

“They weren’t boring . They were sweet,” I said, thinking back on my meeting with Matt, Oliver, and Reese. There hadn’t been the insane, overwhelming attraction I felt for Pack Murray, but they did seem nice. “Either way, I’m taking a break from the pack matching thing. I need some more time.”

“Yeah bitch, ya think? You presented as an Omega like five minutes ago, and you were already trying to shack up with a bunch of hot strangers. Take a second to chill before you end up bonded to a pack that wants a bunch of Omega sister wives,” Kira said.

“Seriously, stop with the true crime. I mean it,” I said sternly. “You’re gonna give yourself nightmares.”

“Whatever. I’m trying to look out for you, and this is the thanks I get. Can I come out and see you this weekend?”

“Yes pleeeease,” I said. “Bring Indian food.”

I kept myself busy over the next week by running as much as possible, studying for the detective exam, hanging out with Kira a few times, and getting to know Bridget.

She was quiet at first, but her quiet demeanor hid a dry sense of humor. She may have seemed delicate and soft but she had a core of steel. And she was clearly very smart and dedicated to her research into Omega biology.

“So, why are you here?” I asked after one of our 90’s romcom nights: 10 Things I Hate About You . “You’re brilliant, beautiful, kind, funny. Why aren’t you all packed up?”

Bridget leaned back against her headboard and tipped her head up. Then she fixed those green eyes on me. We were snuggled in her room, surrounded by stray popcorn kernels. Bridget was also a secret slob. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“I do! If you’re okay with talking about it. Sorry if I’m pushing,” I said.

“No, it’s okay,” Bridget said. “It’s just not fun to talk about. And I don’t want you to pity me because I promise things are much, much better now.”

“Pinky promise I won’t think of you any differently,” I said, holding out a pinky. She wrapped it in one of hers with a smile.

“My pack growing up was abusive,” she said quietly. “My fathers were the worst kind of Alphas: narcissistic and cruel. Those kinds of Alphas seem to find each other, and I think they feed off each other's worst instincts.

“They controlled everything my mother did; who she talked to, where she went. She wasn’t allowed to have a job.

They said her place was at home, raising the kids and being the perfect Omega.

Except she couldn’t even do that part right because after she had me, she couldn’t have any more kids.

I almost killed her,” Bridget said as an aside, looking at me quickly before turning back to stare at the far wall.

“So it was just her and me, trying to survive in a house with three Alphas that treated her… badly. She tried her best. She was the best mother I think she was capable of being. And my fathers ,” Bridget spat the word, her sweet voice taking on a surprising amount of venom.

“They treated me like a little princess. As long as I acted like the perfect girl, they loved me. But if I didn’t listen, or showed any personality they didn’t like…

I quickly learned to be who they wanted me to be.

“Somewhere along the way, I realized I would probably present as an Omega like my mom. With Alpha dads and an Omega mom, it’s pretty much guaranteed that at least one of the kids will be a designation other than Beta.

And I knew that the last thing I ever wanted was to be stuck like my mother was,” she said, and took a pause .

She looked over at me. “Did you know that gymnasts, ballet dancers, and ice skaters often have delayed menstruation?”

“What?” I asked, bewildered at the conversational whiplash.

“They have to be as lean as possible to excel at their sports. And because of that, their bodies delay menstruation. It’s an evolutionary thing.

If you don’t have enough body fat, your biology says ‘Sorry, not ready for a baby, let’s wait until the next mammoth is caught.

’ I learned about that in one of the biology books my mom brought home for my homeschool science class, and I had an idea.

If I could keep my body fat low enough, maybe I could delay presenting as an Omega, too. ”

My heart sank as I saw where the story was heading.

“It worked, by the way,” she said with a tinge of pride.

“I starved myself and didn’t present. I turned sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nothing.

My fathers were livid. They had already been talking to other packs about me, setting up future courtships with their…

friends. But then I was nineteen and then twenty, and even though I was stuck in that house, at least I wasn’t being auctioned off like a prize cow.

It got easier over time, not eating. And it made me feel powerful, gave me literal control over my future.

As long as I was thin enough, I was safe. ”

Bridget paused and looked over at me again, as if looking for signs of pity, then took a deep breath.

“By the time I was twenty-one, I had a Bachelor of Science in Biology from Fairview University Online, and I was dying. I don’t know how thin I had gotten, but I passed out one day and wouldn’t wake up.

My mother convinced my fathers to let her take me to the hospital.

And three years later, here I am.” She smiled, and her face softened back into the sweet disposition I was used to.

“I’m really, really lucky to have a safe place like this where I can continue studying. ”

“God, I’m sorry, Bridget,” I said softly. Bridget rolled her eyes and flicked me.

“Ow!” I said. “What the hell?”

“You weren’t supposed to pity me, remember? ”

“It’s not pity! That’s a really sad story! What else am I supposed to say?”

“I’m joking. Kind of. Sorry for trauma dumping. I kind of get on a roll when I talk about it,” Bridget said.

“I mean, you know why I’m here, right? It’s nothing compared to your story, but that asshole Alpha attacked me just because he thought he could get away with it.

And we’re supposed to want to be with these men?

Fuck that.” Anger thundered through me; at Todd Phillips, at Bridget’s fathers, and at Lachlan for ripping off my rose colored glasses about Pack Murray.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Alphas are the problem. It’s men ,” Bridget said.

I groaned. She was right. I had responded to enough domestic disturbance calls to know there were horrible men in every designation.

“Why are men?” I asked.

“I hope that the next evolutionary leap will be a designation that allows women to reproduce asexually. Like Komodo dragons,” Bridget said.

She looked so serious that I burst out laughing.

“What? I’m serious! It’s called parthenogenesis,” Bridget explained, her eyes wide.

My giggles faded. I turned on my side to look at Bridget, and she mirrored me. “Thanks for talking to me about this.”

“Thanks for being normal about it,” Bridget said, smiling. “But, can I give you some unsolicited advice?” I nodded. “Don’t give up. To quote all of my therapists, our trauma doesn’t define us. Don’t let some Alpha jerk decide the end of your story.”

“Thank you Dr. Bridget,” I said in a sing-song voice and she threw a piece of popcorn at my nose.