Page 80 of Curvy Nerdy Omega

It was revolting.

My father had spent all my formative years teaching me the true nature of alphas and why I should never trust them.

For some reason, he’d been sure I would become an omega just like him so he’d taught me to live without the one thing my body needed. My father had made me learn how to exist with the bare minimum.

Because he’d always known.

We would choke on our hunger. Desperate for what those alphas could give us. Starving for what they kept withholding just so they could stay in power.

Alphas were born hungry. Just like us. Their teeth were sharp so they could tear into us—marking us as theirs. Precious, but also dangerous because we made them weak and the weak will always lose in our world.

Power and strength can bring someone to their knees.

That’s why an alpha doesn’t know how to love without ensuring they would never be the ones begging to belong to someone.

Hypocrites, all of them.

And my father knew this better than anyone.

How many times did he remind me?

An alpha doesn’t know how to love the way we do, Daphne. They need power, so they refuse to give us what we need. They only ever react to the fear of loss. We have to make them scared – make them afraid to lose us or we’ll never survive.

My hand dropped away from my neck and I opened my eyes, the sound of the rain was like a thousand needles stabbing into my brain. Each one was sharp like the moment a tattoo gun hit a nerve.

The taste of blood in my mouth was a reminder.

Fear could be controlled, but love? That was impossible.

That’s why omegas were so dangerous. We possessed a different kind of strength. We loved with teeth and claws…all the blood we shed was proof of just how hard.

It was in our nature to be whatever an alpha needed – but our true nature was something a bit more…feral.

Vicious.

My father had never nurtured the soft, sweet, and caring traits everyone else reinforced in their omega children.

Only the desperate need to survive.

I’d tried to be the strong, independent omega my father wanted me to be. I’d tried so hard to make sure I didn’t need an alpha because this hunger deep inside was terrifying.

But I never could.

I failed before I ever became an omega.

The boy I’d loved with the intense devotion of a child who needed to belong to someone—anyone as long as it wasn’t an alpha…he was all grown up now and he wasn’t just an alpha.

He was a legacy alpha.

God, I was stupid. Back then, I’d really thought he would turn out to be a beta. I’d truly believed we would both become betas because that’s what I needed to believe to allow myself to let him into my world.

I’d promised my father I would get stronger, that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had without realizing I’d already broken that promise.

Why did it feel like every choice I made always left me bloody? How did I ever believe I could be different? That I wouldn’t give in one day to the hunger that kept threatening to swallow me whole?

They said omegas couldn’t help themselves. That we’d give in eventually and maybe they were right, because I was so angry that I actually felt sick to my stomach – barely breathing as my heart thundered in my chest. And yet, all I could think about was how Liam had to have a good reason for keeping this from me for as long as he had – that there was a logical explanation as to why he hadn’t come for me sooner even though my heart was breaking and it hurt.

I wish I could be different but I wasn’t.

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