Page 3 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Uh, duh, why do you think I’m telling you? Quinn obviously can’t come.”

Jane smirks. “Well, she’s coming but not at the club. I’m sure her pack keeps her plenty busy.” Jane and Quinn have never met, but it’s only a matter of time. They’ll get along great.

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” I eye the binder.

“Yeah,” Jane says with a sad sigh. She’s a beta and hasn’t had any luck finding a pack to bond with. Unlike me—jaded and bitter—Jane still has hope she’ll find a pack.

Pack bonds were prompted by a population explosion that saw alphas and betas dominating the birthing rates. Driven together by some event—sometimes traumatic, sometimes adrenaline, or even simply spending time together—a group of alphas and betas can bond, forming familial-like ties. Once the pack bonds, they’ll search for their omega.

Omegas and alphas are natural mates—their bodies and hormones are meant for each other—but scarcity changed the way mates and packs work. Instead of monogamy, an omega with one alpha, when a match happens, it’s usually one omega with a pack. Though, sometimes, there are two omegas in a pack.

Finding a fated mate isn’t a requirement, but it’s the ultimate dream, at least it is for me. There’s nothing I want more than a pack that’ll love and cherish me, so I can do the same. But...like I said. Fate doesn’t like me.

I guess, when I think about it, Jane and I aren’t so different. We’ve both been waiting to find a pack that’ll love us for who we are. But unlike me, Jane is still optimistic.

A rush of dark thoughts cuts through my mind. Maybe if you weren’t so loud and annoying.

Scowling at the memory of the unwelcome advice my mother gave me the last time I saw her, I grab the binder.

I shouldn’t have to change who I am to be loved. Yeah, I’m not quiet, and I’m not going to let alphas run me over with their larger-than-life personalities. I’m not going to settle for being treated like crap. I’m sure as shit not going to take advice from my mom, who’s never had a successful relationship.

Unzipping the leather folder, I spread it out on my desk. The left pocket holds a few packets of pills, two tubes of descenting lotion, and a few other items. On the right are two thick stacks of paperwork. I grab the pills first, too curious to leave those alone for long. Jane plucks the informational packet and eyes the little package in my hands.

“Scent-suppressing pills,” I tell Jane as I read through the information printed on the wrapping. “They last forty-eight hours.”

She nods and focuses on the paperwork, one eyebrow arching. “It says here that After Dark doesn’t allow clients in unless they’ve taken measures to mute their scents.” She mumbles through a few lines before raising her voice loud enough so only I can hear. “At After Dark, it’s important that every client feels safe from the forces of nature. To experience total immersion in the playground—that’s what they call the main floors of the club—scents aren’t allowed. Clients must take the scent-suppressing pills and use the descenting lotion as a secondary measure. The playground offers the opportunity to abandon who nature says you are and embrace your true sexual identity. Contraception is not required but is highly encouraged.”

Good thing I’m on birth control. I raise an eyebrow. “So, I could be dominant if I wanted?”

Jane lifts her gaze to meet mine. “That’s what it says. Do you want that?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Just clarifying the rules. So, no scents allowed. That’s good, right? I’m sure they’re also trying to avoid any issues with scent matching and pregnancy.”

My throat tightens. I spent years searching for my match, went through countless packs, wishing their scents were that special combination that meant we were fated to be together.

The stronger an omega is pulled to a pack’s aroma, the better the pairing and likelihood of reproduction. The same can be said for packs with omegas. And when they’re an exact match—scents that blend and complement and make you want to bathe in a tub full of that very perfume—reproduction is almost certain. Not every pack has kids, though. I definitely don’t see myself with rugrats.

My best friend’s scent matches were her stepbrothers, and babies are the furthest thing from their minds too. They’re madly in love and perfect for each other. I’m so happy for her, but I also kind of hate it because it hurts to realize true love isn’t in the cards for me.

Maybe I’m meant to settle. Maybe I should try to be more demure, quieter. More palatable. I wrinkle my nose. Yeah. No. Fuck that.

Maybe I’m meant to be alone.

“After Dark is not responsible for any scent matching that occurs off premise,” Jane finishes, setting the paperwork aside. “Are we really doing this?”

As intimidating as it seems, I’m curious. I have my own set of vibrators at home, and they’ve been working overtime this last year. It might be nice to explore options...or have fun with someone else, for that matter. I’ve never had sex without scents being involved.

Perhaps that’s what I need right now, though? Maybe I need to get out of my head and learn to enjoy myself. That’s the whole point of After Dark and Good Vibes.

Freedom to explore. Freedom to find pleasure on your own terms. I’ve spent so much of my life hoping nature and fate would be kind to me. It’s time to take my destiny into my own hands.

“I’m in if you are,” I tell Jane, grabbing one of the stacks of paperwork. There’s an injury waiver, a detailed questionnaire about limits and kinks, sexually transmitted disease disclosures and requirements, a contraception notice, and a waiver about blood loss. What the fuck is that about?

Jane blows out a hard breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but screw it. I’m in.”

Smirking at her, I push one of the packets her way. “Better get to work, then.” I start with the questionnaire first because that seems the least intimidating.

Tomorrow night, I’m going to a sex club. How is this my life?

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