Page 17

Gwen

F atigue pressed down on me as I took the subway. Last night there had been an away game for NYIT at BosTec. We’d won, but barely, then gone out. I’d played–first game back. It had been a lot, too much, really. But I couldn’t let my team down and I’d missed my friends.

This morning, Tens and I went to yoga in the park and visited Marty. Then they’d gone off to morning skate, and I’d taught some goalie lessons at the rink. Again, a little too much exertion, but I wasn’t going to get back into shape if I didn’t push myself.

I was glad to be back to everything–hockey, classes, work, and my EBUG duties. My brain still got tired sometimes and I felt like my ears never had stopped ringing, though the doctor said it should cease.

My phone beeped and I got a picture of the guys who were now on a plane, since they played the Hurricanes tonight. I’d made them some cake for the ride.

Clark

You’re on the way? Are you okay?

Me

I’m nervous

Clark

I’m here. I love the cake and note. Love you.

Me

Love you, too

He sent me a heart emoji, and I sent one back.

Getting off, I made my way through the village. Tens and I had been here in our quest for tasty food and muffins. There were also some fun clubs. A lot of UNYC students lived here, and I’d been to plenty of parties in this area.

I pulled my coat around me, against the November chill, as I looked for the address. The coat was something Isa had sent me–dark purple and swishy.

Verity

You’re coming this afternoon, right?

Me

Yes

The MASOs were having a little party today, then we were watching the Knights’ game together. Hopefully, it would be fun.

Turning down a street of quiet businesses, I stopped at a beautifully gated building with a wrought iron sign. Village Omega Center. Usually we just spoke on the phone or met at a coffee shop, but she said for this visit she wanted to meet here, so I could talk with another specialist, too. I took a deep breath. This was supposed to be one of the more welcoming centers. I had an appointment. It would be okay.

“Can I help you?” the delta guard asked me from the other side. Omega Centers all had gates and security, so omegas felt safe. Alphas were only allowed in certain areas.

“I have an appointment.” I showed her the appointment notice and my ID, and she let me in. It was a slight relief that I wasn’t turned away.

There was a pretty brick courtyard with ivy and tables, and only one door. I went into the lobby and was greeted with a comfy little waiting area, a receptionist, and two distinct areas behind her. One had a sign with an arrow that said Matching Center, the other led to a guarded elevator and a big sign said Alphas Not Allowed Beyond This Point.

The omega receptionist greeted me. “Hi, Hun. Where are you going today?”

After looking at my appointment card and ID, she told me to take the elevator up to the second floor. Still, it was hard to relax. This was an omega space, and I disliked invading it.

The elevator had a cute little guide. The gym and pool were in the basement. Omega services were on the third floor. Classrooms were on the fourth, along with the childcare room.

Omega Centers offered many things. Small ones often just had a clinic, some services, a matching center, and maybe a community room. The big ones had actual hospitals, tons of classes, heat suites, and emergency housing. This looked somewhere in between.

My sister, Isa, used to take craft workshops and would come home with lopsided candles and lumpy pots. My mom would go to a book club and take exercise classes. Nonna taught cooking and animal care.

The smell of the clinic hit me as I left the elevator. Suddenly I was back there, in the omega-only cancer clinic, on crutches after my broken hip, being yelled at by my big sister, Maricella.

“This is all your fault, I wish you’d never been born,” she shouted as we sat in the family waiting room.

“I didn’t make her get cancer, Maricella,” I yelled back, wanting to hit her with my crutch, sick of a grown-ass mated woman in her thirties haranguing me.

“You made it come back,” she snapped.

I froze. “What do you mean?”

Mom had already been diagnosed with a few months to live when I was brought home after my hockey accident.

“She was pregnant when she was diagnosed. She delayed treatment because of you. ” Her face contorted into a sneer. “Had she not, it might not have come back. The doctor said so.”

Horror coated me. While I knew she had it when I was little, I didn’t know that she’d delayed treatment because of me. “I didn’t ask to be born. Is this why you hate me so much?”

Maricella cackled. “No.”

A sob wracked my body.

“Oh, Hun, whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” a woman in pink scrubs said, as she helped me to the desk and gave me a tissue. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m here to see Dr. Kristy.” I showed her everything again, wincing inside.

“Oh, I see.” Her expression softened. “It’ll be okay. Do you have your Center card?”

I shook my head. “I… I shouldn’t be here.”

“You don’t belong here. We can’t help you, just go,” the women at the Center in Vancouver had told me. I’d tried to access the services the nurse at the hospital said I could after the whole kidnapping incident . It had taken a lot for me to go and I never attempted it again.

“It’s okay.” The omega woman rubbed my arm. “No need to be scared, Hun. It’s fine if you don’t have a card, I see you right here. After you meet with Dr. Kristy, we’ll make sure you get a visit to the comfort cupboard, okay?”

“Is that the closet with the treats?” I perked. “My sister used to bring me these bath pearls filled with scented oil and shaped like moons and stars.” It would make me so happy when Isa brought me silly little surprises.

She nodded. “I know exactly what you’re talking about, though I’m not sure what we have today.”

“Are you okay, Hun?” A beta nurse came over to us. “Should I take her back? Maybe call for someone from the third floor?”

“Take her to Dr. Kristy, please?” she told the nurse.

“Oh. Okay.” Her look went sympathetic. “Let’s get you some tea first.”

“You’re shitting my dick.” Nausea roiled in my belly as I gripped my half-drunk cup of tea, as I sat in Dr. Kristy’s cozy office. No, no, no, no.

“I don’t know if it’ll happen. But it could ,” Dr. Kristy told me. Her office was small, though comfortable, and filled with books. We were sitting in armchairs around a small table, not her desk.

“I don’t want to be an omega. Never have. But I don’t understand. Since middle school, I’ve always tested as beta. The drugs didn’t work.” My chest shook.

“Given you have the genetic marker, and you come from an omega-heavy maternal line, and you play hockey, you should know it is a possibility that it could happen one day,” the second doctor, an awakening specialist named Dr. Bakshi, said.

She was an elegant beta, and younger than Dr. Kristy. Her hair was long and dark and she wore the most beautiful gold jewelry.

I blinked as I took a sip of my tea. “What does playing hockey have to do with it?”

“Some sports can delay awakening in omegas. We know this. It’s why sometimes after omegas are identified in middle school they move to other sports. However, a disproportionate amount of the omegas who tested as beta, grew to beta–or beyond–heights, and then unexpectedly awakened as an omega in their early to mid-twenties, are hockey players,” Dr. Bakshi said. “It’s not the only sport where this happens, but there are a lot of you. Perhaps it’s because you start so young, hockey delays the entire process, then one day your body just can’t hold it back anymore.”

Well, that made sense. But hockey wasn’t the only sport where people started young.

Also, I never really understood shunting young omegas to specific ‘omega friendly’ sports, so it wouldn’t delay their awakening. Mostly because these were things like dance, cheer, horseback riding, tennis, and figure skating. Which were just as physically demanding as any other sport.

But what did I know?

“Perhaps in your case, because of everything you went through, your body might have continued to protect you by keeping you a beta. It’s been known to happen,” Dr. Kristy told me.

Oh. Well, that made even more sense. Had my body kept mega-push from working, too? Perhaps that’s why it made me sick. It wasn’t a bad batch–my body was protecting me.

Thank goodness my body did that.

“We also don’t know how your past trauma might affect things. There are so few beta taus, and to have one your age? I can’t find anything to help me figure out if it would affect you either way–your body keeping it away to protect you or awakening to help find someone else to love.” Dr. Kristy was in her fifties, hair going white, with bond marks on her collarbone, peeking out from her pink blouse that was under her white doctor’s coat.

Something that had been bothering me bubbled to the surface. “Do I care for Clark and Tens because I love them, or am I just trying to seal up the cracks of my soul with the nearest alpha?”

Was that why I’d stayed with Austin so long? Why I’d seen no red flags? My broken soul just wanted someone to love?

“I know your boys care for you very much,” Dr. Kristy told me. “And I can tell that you care for them, too.”

“Okay.”

I was falling for them. Hard. It was the dumb things, like Clark trading pucks for candy at games for me. Tenzin having me for breakfast. Going to sleep between the two of them. Picking out Clark’s tie. Making them lunches for their flights. Finding treats from them. Like last night–Tenzin put my favorite flavor of chips and some matcha cookies in my bag with a cute note and I’d eaten them on the train on the way to play the game at BosTec.

This was a lot, and I wished my guys were here to hold me. Or that I could go talk to Dean, since he literally was a giant beta goalie who surprise-awakened as an omega while at university and hid it to keep playing hockey. Grif hid his designation, too, but I knew Dean better.

I frowned. “I’m just some omega bomb that could go off at any time?”

Nope, I didn’t like this at all.

“Would it be so bad?” Dr. Kristy’s voice went soft. “I’m pretty sure your alphas will still care for you. Also, omegas do become professional hockey goalies and forensic accountants.”

My shoulders sagged. “Do I have the OOC gene? I know they tested me for it, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask for the results.”

Isa didn’t. I wasn’t sure if my other sisters did.

Dr. Kristy consulted her laptop. “That test was negative.”

A weight lifted. One reason I didn’t want to be an omega was that I didn’t want to fall ill with it like my mother did. I didn’t want my children to watch me die and my mates to pine for me.

Though you could still get it even without the gene.

“If you want to talk, if you have questions, email me,” Dr. Bakshi told me. “With beta designating, late blooming, hockey players, I’ve seen it as late as twenty-seven.”

Ooof. Though at twenty-seven, I’d be well-established in my career. Now, not so much.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll send you some information on what to look for, what to do if it happens, and your options,” Dr. Bakshi told me. “I’ll see you later, Dr. Kristy.”

“What now?” Besides having a fuckton to talk to my therapists about. I could become an omega? After everything? No, thank you. I’d take my chances as a beta.

“Just keep living your life, Gwen. Play hockey. Finish university. Enjoy your cute boys. Have fun with your friends. If it happens, it happens and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. There’s no need to fret. This is just knowledge I wanted you to have, because you seem like a planner,” Dr. Kristy told me.

“Okay. I appreciate it. You’re right, I’d rather know than not.” Still, nausea roiled in my belly. “Is this why everyone seemed to think I'd be an omega? I mean, now I know the dads kept me in omega activities because they didn’t want me to feel like I was being punished for being a beta. But my ex was so sure.” I made another face.

“It could be. Maybe you have some omega habits–things you picked up from all your omega siblings, or that came through after your bond broke with Officer Jones,” she told me.

“That tracks.” I drained the last of my tea and fiddled with the cup. “I don’t like how people know I’m a shadow by smell. ”

While I knew some people–and wolves–just knew, I hadn’t known it was because of undertones in my scent.

Austin had told me my scent had changed a little after the kidnapping. I'd thought it was the drugs.

“I know. Most are uncomfortable with that. It was probably meant as a way to identify those who might need extra care,” she told me.

I still didn’t like it.

We talked for a while longer. I liked Dr. Kristy, and she was helpful in ways that my therapists weren’t.

“I’m still trying to find a support group that will take you. But I can get you access to some additional resources,” she told me as we finished up.

“Not interested in a support group. Resources are good. Tens found a lot of interesting things for me on dead-matches.” Some of which I’d actually looked at and listened to. But talking about my feelings with strangers? Yeah, not my thing.

“They seem like nice alphas who care about you. Like I’ve told you, there’s nothing stopping you from taking mates in the future. What happened to you didn’t rob you of that,” she assured.

Good, I did eventually want mates and kids, and all that.

I could see that with my guys.

“Thanks again,” I told her. Though I hoped next time, we didn’t meet at the Center.

“I’ll talk to you again soon.” She stood and walked me out to the lobby.

“There you are.” The omega at the desk smiled. “Let’s see what we have? Come with me.”

She led me to a little closet that said Comfort Cupboard in cute writing and she used her badge to unlock it. On the shelves were lots of white wire baskets. Each one had a little chalkboard sign with a number on it. The inside of the cupboard door had a chalkboard that said Please Only Take Three Points Worth.

My eyes immediately looked for the little tubes of bath beads, which were in a basket near the bottom marked ?. They were pink and looked like hearts and butterflies.

“You can still go up to omega services and get your daily visit to the one up there. They have some different things. This is just for clinic appointments,” she smiled. “I think they’re doing make-and-take body scrubs for craft today.”

Yeah, not going to omega services.

The closet had many things, from hair ties and lip balm to candles and bath bombs to de-scenting products and little vibrators. Things like condoms, lube, and de-scenting towelettes were in a basket marked 0.

Finally, I decided on three tubes of bath beads and a travel case of fancy hair products, which would be perfect for away games.

“Thank you,” I told her. I felt bad taking up so much of her time.

“Anytime.” She smiled at me, then gave me one more pack of bath beads.

I checked the time as I waited for the elevator. I was going to be late for the party, but I knew that. Clark texted as I got into the elevator.

Clark

How did it go?

Me

Weird. I’ll tell you tonight.

I didn’t want to tell him by text. But I wanted to talk to him about it. Maybe he and Tens could help me sort everything out.

“Wendel, what are you doing here? You’re not an omega.” Desiree stood there in the elevator with two other omegas, all holding what looked like jars of homemade body scrub. She looked up at me with disdain. All three of their hoodies said UNYC Skaters.

“I was just meeting with someone.” I didn’t want to deal with her today. Ever since Windy had pushed me at Tito’s, I’d been trying to avoid her and had even gone so far as to trade shifts.

“What you did to Windy wasn’t okay. They might not sign him now.” She got indignant.

“I didn’t do anything to anyone, Desiree. It’s not my fault he attacked me, in the bar, in front of half the Knights and has been spreading rumors.” I shook my head. The doors opened, and I walked out.

The Knights might not sign him? I didn’t know that. The petty part of me had hoped they’d sign him and let him languish with the Bantams.

“Austin’s omega is way prettier than you. He thinks what you did was shitty, too.” Desiree smirked, chasing me as I strode across the lobby.

I stopped and turned. “I. Don’t. Care. Desiree. Just leave me alone. Please.”

“Also, your skating videos are embarrassing. Like the last one. Just stop.” She made a face.

My hands fisted. I knew I wasn’t the best figure skater and sometimes I did get comments on my technique. But this was just her being mean.

“Eat a bag of dicks. I don’t give a flying fuck what you think.” I hurried out of the lobby. Yeah, I had no interest in this.