Forbidden: Part One (Luna & Sol Omegaverse Book 1)
Forbidden: Part One – Chapter 4

“Congratulations, hun! We just got your blood work back, and you are officially in pre-heat. The doctor will be in shortly to discuss the next steps so we can get you set up with your pack. It’s not every day we have a twenty-three-year-old who hasn’t gone into heat yet. This must be such a relief for you.”

The young beta nurse was overly chipper as she bustled around the clinical exam room in the Designation Center Clinic. I had spent the night in the hospital and been moved to the clinic this morning.

Yesterday’s trip to the store was lost in a hazy mist. I vaguely remembered walking into the store, but my next memory was waking up alone in a hospital room. The nurses told me I passed out while shopping. Despair clung to me. My time was up. My mandatory blood work appointment wasn’t for another week, but my body had sped up the process. Traitor. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Usually, the bright hospital lights and antiseptic smells were torturous, but I stayed calmer than usual thanks to the delicious scent surrounding me. It took me a while to determine that the scent was coming from my sweatshirt. It was rich coffee and long afternoons spent in the bookstore. I refused to let anyone take the sweatshirt away and slept better than I had in a long time with my face buried in it. Even after showering this morning, I felt like it was still on my skin, imprinted on me and comforting.

The nurse continued to prattle on about my upcoming heat. The lab result wasn’t a surprise, but I still felt like a weight was crushing my lungs. Did this woman really think I was happy about my lab results? Could she really be that naïve? I always wondered what betas thought about omegas. We were kept somewhat segregated from the rest of society. Do they all believe what the news says about us?

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a pack that won’t hold your age against you,” she said before handing me a small crinkly gown to change into and finally leaving the room. Oh wow, what a relief that not all alphas will hold my ancient age of twenty-three against me. Bitch. 

My stomach turned as I hopped up on the exam table, feeling vulnerable and exposed. My mind started blanking out, my heart racing at the thought of having to endure another invasive exam. The scar on my arm burned in phantom pain, and I squeezed it, trying my best to hold on to reality. It’s not in me anymore. They’re not here. This is a different doctor. My body was not convinced by my pathetic attempts to reassure myself. Sweat trickled down from my armpits. I wanted to escape from the room, but my body sat frozen as if held captive by the bright overhead lights.

The door slammed open and a middle-aged doctor—alpha, of course—entered the room with the overeager nurse on his heels. Not him, it’s not him. This doctor was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders, slicked-back brown hair, and a smile so white it belonged in a dental commercial. I bet all the beta nurses threw themselves at him, dying for a scrap of attention. He smelled like moldy dill and cilantro, almost making me gag.

“Ahh, I see we have a late bloomer omega,” the doctor said, consulting his paperwork. “Age twenty-three, the mother is an omega. Regular lab work hasn’t returned positive for pre-heat before now. Nurse, what do you notice about this omega?”

I clenched my hands into fists, hating how he wouldn’t look at me or address me like I was an actual person.

“Well, besides her obvious late heat, the omega has been consistently overweight since puberty,” the nurse answered sweetly, batting her eyes at the doctor.

I resisted rolling my eyes.

“You can see here in the records that she was put on a diet regimen during her time at the DA, which resulted in moderate weight loss, but since graduation, she has clearly gained it back,” the doctor said with a sneer, his eyes lingering over my body while he sniffed deeply, breathing in my scent.

I blinked rapidly, refusing to let this asshole alpha make me cry. The diet regimen he was talking about consisted of the DA cutting my meal plan in half, so I was starving. If not for the kindness of my few friends sneaking me food, I probably would have ended up in the hospital. Not that the doctors would have minded as long as I lost the weight.

“Well, the good news is that the omega will be joining a pack. Nurse, I want you to draft a meal plan guideline to give to the omega’s alphas so they’ll know how to best care for her.”

Fucking what? I was not about to let a pack control what I ate. My breath quickened, and I recognized the sign of an impending panic attack. I clenched my fingers into tight fists, my fingernails leaving deep crescents in my hands.

“Lie back, omega, so we can do the pelvic exam. I’ll explain what we’re doing, nurse, since you’re new.” The nurse giggled her thanks.

I wanted to punch them both.

The alpha guided my legs into the stirrups and roughly pushed up the paper gown, leaving me exposed. Just think about the beach, standing in the water as the waves wash over you. The beach visualization was not fucking cutting it as the doctor shoved his dry fingers up my vagina. I heard him explain to the nurse that he was measuring how tight I was, something that would be included in the report given to prospective packs. Omegas were forbidden to have sex or masturbate—we had to stay pure for our alphas so they could have the pleasure of ripping us open with their massive cocks.

The doctor’s words became muffled as my panic intensified. I started running through the latest moves we learned in self-defense class. I imagined shoving my knee into the doctor’s groin, knocking him to the ground. He would be too stunned to do anything before I stomped on his balls repeatedly, crushing them. My breathing evened out ever so slightly. Well, what do you know, that was more effective than the beach visualization. My awareness of the clinic room faded as I ran through my violent fantasy.

The doctor finally finished up after making some notations in my chart, and they both left me to get dressed. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I tried to pull on my clothes. I wanted to get out of this cold room with its bright lights and bury myself under a pile of soft, warm pillows. I was pulling on my jacket when the nurse returned. I still felt like I was in a haze and barely took in what she was saying as she led me out of the clinic to the main lobby.

“Alright, omega, just take a seat here, and someone will be with you shortly,” the nurse said, gesturing to a chair in the small waiting room off of the main hall before she spun around to head back to the clinic.

I sat down, facing the large posters on the wall staring at me with bold, black letters.

Complete your pack! Sign up for pack interviews today!

There was a large photograph of four alphas standing around a petite omega. Maybe I was projecting, but she looked miserable. Underneath the photo, there was more text.

Research shows that alphas are incomplete without an omega. Omegas are the domestic glue that bring alphas together, providing a warm, nurturing energy in the home. 

98% of alphas express complete satisfaction with their omega at six-month follow-up interviews.

The Designation Center ensures all omegas have completed proper Academy training so they can best serve their alphas.

Don’t wait! Sign up today.

Sam and I used to roll our eyes at propaganda like this. The Designation Government might only have taken power five years ago, but we’d grown up with these messages in our traditionalist community. The poster didn’t seem laughable now that I was days away from being forced to join a pack who would view me as an object for their satisfaction. My hand itched to pull out my phone and text Sam, but if anyone saw it would invite too many questions about how I paid for it.

My leg bounced as I tried to force air into my constricted lungs. My promise to Sam to not do anything drastic flitted through my mind, but how could I keep living with nothing but years of abuse ahead of me?

I leaned over to see if I could glimpse the front door across the main lobby. What would happen if I made a run for it? Would I make it to the door? I imagined myself walking out calmly, evading security before hot-wiring a car and driving all the way to Sam’s in Sol. I sat back up in my chair, forcing myself to cut off the fantasy before I started crying. I needed to prepare for what was coming, not lose myself in what-ifs.

I knew from other omegas who had gone into pre-heat that I would meet with a Designation Center employee and complete a questionnaire covering what I was looking for in a pack. They would use my answers to find compatible packs to interview. Somehow, I didn’t think the questionnaire would cover my preferences: In your ideal pack, how many alphas would you bond with? Zero. What are your favorite hobbies? My illegal self-defense class, where I learn how to take down alphas. How many children would you like to have? None.

I could only imagine the horror on the DC employee’s face before they had me carted away. Even before the Designation Laws passed, I knew that finding a compatible pack would be challenging. I enjoyed my independence and the hustle and bustle of the city, whereas many omegas preferred quiet pack homes in the country. Most alphas and omegas were biologically wired to want to have as many children as possible, but I had never wanted kids. And then, of course, there was my weight, which, as my mother said, was “disgusting and unnatural.” Even if I could find a compatible pack, they would likely never want someone who looked like me.

I was so sucked into my childhood memories of my mother berating my body, forcing me to exercise and withholding food, that I almost thought I heard her voice.

“Josephine!”

Wait… that was her voice. She couldn’t be here, could she? Well, why wouldn’t she be? I caught sight of her striding towards me, her heels clicking on the marble floors. I’ve obviously gone to hell, and today is my orientation day planned by Satan.

My throat tightened and a wave of nausea washed over me as I caught sight of my pack fathers, Jericho and Richard, following close behind her. No, no, no, I can’t do this, can’t handle seeing them. Cold sweat prickled on my skin as the room spun slightly. My body screamed at me to get up, to run and hide, but it was as if all my muscles had locked into place.

“Josephine, are you ignoring me?” my mother asked.

She was standing in front of me, perfectly put together in a baby blue pencil skirt and matching blouse that showed off her tiny waist. Jericho and Richard stood next to her, looking impatient. I averted my eyes, hating how visceral my fear was, hating that they could scent it on me.

I forced myself to stand, unwilling to let the three of them loom over me. This was the first I had seen my pack fathers since I moved out of their house a year ago. I had hoped time would make me stronger, would help me get over the icy cold fear that kept me frozen and weak in their presence. Now that they were standing before me, I realized how wrong I’d been.

“What are you doing here?” I asked stiffly.

My mother sniffed. “That’s the greeting we get? We’re here for you, of course. Director Whiteburn notified Jericho of your lab results. Why didn’t you tell us? This is such good news.”

There was clear relief in her eyes and even the hint of a smile on her lips. Of course, she was thrilled. The fact that I remained unbonded was an endless source of shame for her.

My mother’s face returned to her usual scowl when I didn’t respond.

“You better change that attitude if you want to attract a good pack. We just met with the director to ensure you get interviews with the most prestigious packs, at least those who would deign to accept an omega like you.”

“Lucky me,” I said, hoping my sarcastic tone covered the fact that I was on the verge of tears.

My mother grabbed my arm, my skin stinging under her hold. “It’s about time you proved to the world you’re not completely defective. Twenty-three and no pack—it’s an embarrassment,” she hissed.

And there it was. All she cared about was how my actions reflected on her. I’d spent my whole life hearing all the ways I was a disappointment. Getting out of my parents’ pack house saved my life, but it was a massive scandal and my mother still wasn’t over it. Most days, her phone calls to me ended in her shrieking at me and crying about what a difficult daughter I was. I had tried blocking her number, but that led to her showing up outside my apartment and shouting loudly enough for all my neighbors to hear. Mrs. Hughes, an elderly beta next door, had thought we were under attack and came out into the hallway with a metal baseball bat to defend herself. She’d looked ridiculous, being close to seventy and wearing a fluffy bathrobe, but even with all that, she’d been a badass and scolded my mother for her behavior. After that day, I decided to just suck it up and answer her calls.

My mother was waiting for a response, but I was worried I would start crying if I spoke. I just shrugged, averting my gaze.

She huffed, eyes burning with anger. “Your late heat has put scrutiny on all of us. I don’t know what I did to deserve such an ungrateful daughter,” she hissed. “Catherine’s daughter found her pack at nineteen and she’s already pregnant. Christine’s daughter has six alphas and is already on her second baby. I don’t know why my daughter wants to punish me like this!”

“Angeline, calm down,” Richard said tersely.

My mother’s husbands were so cold it almost made me feel sorry for her. She stopped speaking, meekly deferring to her alphas in a way that made me want to defend her even after the way she had spoken to me.

“Josephine, we need to talk to you in private,” Jericho said, gesturing between him and Richard. “Angeline, stay here.”

“They told me to wait here for my interview,” I said, trembling.

My omega cowered at the thought of being alone with them, the memories of what happened that day flooding my mind—the smell of antiseptic, the cruel laughter, their stares. I dug my fingernails into my palms so hard I thought they might draw blood, the pain the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. I couldn’t let my mind go back to that place. I refused to show weakness in front of them.

“Today is not the day to disobey us, Josephine,” Richard snarled.

My hatred for the two of them grew as they placed their hands on me and marched me towards a closed door in the small hallway. They opened the door and practically shoved me into the small meeting room. There was a table in the center with metal chairs around it, a TV mounted on the wall, and no windows. I forced myself to keep breathing.

“Let’s not waste any time, Josephine. You have been a disgrace to this family long enough, and we cannot allow it to continue. We know you’ve been taking black-market suppressants. The only reason you’re not in jail right now is because we didn’t want to subject your mother to such humiliation,” Jericho said.

“You have no proof,” I said quietly. I knew I was pushing it and should just shut my mouth, but I also knew this was a scare tactic. No medical tests could detect suppressant usage.

“You fucking ungrateful bitch,” Richard shouted in my face.

I tried my best not to cower under his aggression. Richard had always had the shorter fuse. Jericho, ever the politician, was more subtle in his manipulation. He placed his hand on Richard’s chest to hold him back. As first alpha, everyone in the pack deferred to him.

“We want to be clear, Josephine. You are going to bond with a pack immediately. You will stop rebelling. You will obey your new alphas. You will be the picture of a perfect omega. We have had to put up with you for years. If you continue to cause problems for us, we will escalate things,” Jericho said in his dangerously calm voice.

Their hatred towards me was a weight on my chest. A desperate longing filled me, and I wished I’d gotten the chance to know my biological father, the alpha my mother ran away with at seventeen. I couldn’t imagine my critical, image-obsessed mother rebelling, but I used to fantasize as a child about what my life would be like if my dad hadn’t died. Anything would have been better than being raised by my hateful pack fathers actively fighting to strip omegas of our rights. They had never treated me with any affection, even as a young child, and their anger towards me seemed to only grow throughout the years as my mother failed to get pregnant again, a shockingly rare occurrence for an omega. They saw me as a nuisance, a reminder of my mother’s failure. And then, at the DA… my stomach roiled and I breathed through my mouth, trying to block their scents from reaching me and keep myself from vomiting. Don’t think about it. Never think about that day.

Jericho reached out and grabbed my chin harshly. “Do you understand?”

I ripped my face out of his hand and backed up, holding back a whine. I forced myself to meet his glare with a nod, knowing there was nothing else I could do. I needed to get out of here, to be far away from them.

Richard’s phone went off, and he jerked his head at Jericho, who cast me one last look of scorn before sweeping out of the room. I kept as much distance from them as possible, and we returned to the sitting area just in time for a woman to call my name.

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