Page 11 of Queen Of Clubs

Leaning forward, I sniff, and my eyes widen. That isn’t pee... no, that's the source of the peaches and cream smell.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, my brain trying to process what the hell is going on. What on earth would be coming out of me that would smell like that, smell so good?

And then it hits me. I’m eighteen today.

No. It wouldn’t happen less than an hour after my eighteenth birthday, would it? It took the guys months before they presented. Except Zane, who presented only a few days after his eighteenth birthday.

But a lot of people I know didn’t present until closer to their nineteenth or even twentieth. Most everyone finds out no later than twenty-one.

If this is what I think it is, then that would mean I’m an... I’m an omega.

I blink dumbly at the wet patch as tears sting my eyes. All my life I was so confident I’d be a beta like my parents and their parents before them. I don’t even think I have an omega in my immediate bloodline.

I’m an omega. Not a beta.

The knowledge of that hits me. I’m currently in the process of changing, my body at odds with itself. If I ended up as a beta, nothing much would change.

But becoming an omega... it’s like altering my whole body’s chemistry. Over the next week, my body will grow softer, adapting to be able to take a knot. And slick. God, there's going to be so much slick. There already is.

I want to cry. I want to scream at the universe for screwing me over yet again. Not because I’m an omega but because the only alphas I’d ever wanted aren't here.

We talked about this, if I ended up becoming an omega. Not often but it was mentioned because they too thought I’d be a beta.

They said they would be there for me, care for all my needs as I went through these changes. Like a sick person needing a hand to hold, a cuddle, or a back rub.

I have nothing. I have no one to be there for me. I’m going through the biggest life change, and I’m doing it alone.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shakily get to my feet. I need to change, to get out of these soiled clothes. And then I need to strip this bed and get the hell out of here.

Because if Charles gets up to use the bathroom and gets a whiff of my slick, there’s no way I’d make it out of here.

That has me slipping into survival mode, one I unfortunately know so well.

Grabbing a change of clothes from my bag, I quickly change. Balling up my soiled pants and panties, I toss them on the bed before stripping the mattress and balling up the blankets.

Bag in one hand, blankets in the other, I climb out of the window. It’s a warm night with a cloudless sky. For a second, my eyes find the moon, and I wonder—just for the smallest second—if Everett is looking too.

Then I shake my head at those silly thoughts. He’s living life, rich and famous, with supermodels and actresses throwing themselves at his feet.

He wouldn't be thinking about me. He wouldn’t be looking at the moon.

Why would he? It’s just a stupid fucking moon.

I’m hit with another adrenaline rush as I toss everything to the ground below before carefully grabbing onto the drain pipe, praying with everything in me that it holds my weight long enough for me to get down.

Thankfully, it does. The moment my feet touch the ground, I snatch my bag and the blanket up and take off running.

With only one thought in mind—getting as far away from that hellhole and its monsters as I can—I don’t stop running until my lungs can’t take it anymore.

I’m on the verge of passing out, another wave of nausea hitting me hard. I bend over to the side and puke into a bush.

“Kill me now,” I groan, closing my eyes as the world spins. No. I can’t stop, not yet. I don’t run, but I do keep going until I’m deeper into town. Finding the nearest dumpster, I toss the slick-covered things into it, getting rid of any evidence. I just hope that it didn’t soak through and onto the mattress. I wouldn’t put it past Charles, after getting one smell of the proof that I’m an omega, to come track me down.

Apparently, I was worth a lot.

I knew omegas somewhere in the world were being taken against their will and sold to fucked up people, mostly alphas of power.

When I see a twenty-four-hour drugstore, I grab some of my cash and head inside. The man at the counter watches me. I do my best not to make eye contact as I head toward the health and beauty section.

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