Page 70 of Ondine: Vol. 2

Fuck.

She needs an alpha. She needs Freddie.

Omegas need their bonded alphas.

And why did she take my book?

My hand in my pocket holds tight to my pen. At least she didn’t take that.

But I’d give it to her if she asked.

Sebastian and Arnie are still staring at the stage. I grab Jake by his collar and turn him to the exit. He takes the hint and we all leave the auditorium. She said she’d meet us up front, but none of us want to wait.

My dad texted me to say that he couldn’t really do anything about the audition. He said they were incentivized to be more diverse, and hopefully that helps. Obviously the reason there’s never been an omega in the company has nothing to do with skill, and everything to do with social discrimination. The grant helps work around that. One less salary and they have to play nice.

I can’t imagine they weren’t impressed. Moved. Absolutely floored.

She plays like she’s got your heart in the palm of her hand.

I grab Jake’s arm before he takes off into the dark music hall. He yanks it out of my hold and takes off running. I roll my eyes and go after him. Arnie is next to me, and Sebastian is at our back. Always the watchdog.

He’s using his nose and it leads us right back to the practice room.

Ondine is pacing and crying and she’s got snot on her face. She’s a total mess.

Jake grabs her into his arms and I decide I’m on guard duty with Sebastian by the door. Arnie doesn’t go to her either. I give him a questioning look.

He mouthsalpha.

She needs an alpha.

“What’s going on, baby?” Jake asks.

“She’s still recovering from bond sickness, Jake. She needs alphas. She needs Freddie,” Arnie answers.

I should have known. I’d been researching omegas. Arnie bullying the hell out of me was unpleasant, to say the least. But he did point out that I wasn’t as prepared for this as I should be.

And I’ve been trying to bridge that gap.

Jake looks horrified and pulls her away so he can see her face.

“I didn’t realize this might be too much,” she says. She’s clutching my poetry book that’s wrapped up like a mummy with Jake’s tie.

I want that back.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and I take that as my cue to leave. For a moment. I go into the hall and close the door behind me.

The woman who came and got us earlier stands in the dark hallway with a big scary smile.

“Hello, you are welcome to leave. We’ll call Ondine with our decision by tomorrow evening.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. She needs some time. She’s going through…an omega thing. Sort of. She may need a bit.”

“Oh, well, she’s the last audition of the day. Everyone is leaving.”

It’s so subtle you’d nearly miss it. She’s not happy she has to talk to an alpha. She’s not happy she can’t operate as she does with every other person here. She’s inconvenienced, and it’s all the fault of an “omega.”

I hate to do this. Dig up the corpse of my old name, but I’ve already done it once today for my girl. Might as well do it again!