Page 13 of Knot Their Omega

Getting hit by the cool morning air, matched with the wonderful view of the sunrise across the skyline, has me inhaling deeply and letting it out nice and slow. It helps clear my mind a little.

“You’re going to give Velvet high blood pressure with how you taunt her,” Knox begins as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and proceeds to offer me one.

I can’t deny it, especially after what just happened.

Taking one, I pull out my own lighter and take in the wonderful purple flame that ignites from the special metal contraption that reminds me of my pack members. We all have one, each flame burning a different, unique color.

I should have been blue, but I lost that bet.

Meh. I don’t mind anymore. Not after finding that lavender pick.

“If I don’t remind her of what a pain in the ass I am, she’d want me to come back home,” I laugh and give Knox a smirk as he takes a moment to enjoy the first inhale of his cigarette.

He lets out a puff of smoke as his large structure leans against the cold metal bars of the ledge. I end up mimicking his stance, needing the chilled touch to calm me down.

I didn’t realize how hot I felt until now.

I took my shit today. I remember clearly. Why am I still reacting?

The cigarette will help, at least. Despite the addictive nicotine in them, they have a hint of suppressants that help tame Alphas’ sense when it comes to Omegas. If my rut blockers didn’t help this morning, the cigarette will give me a fighting chance until I get back to the tour bus.

“She misses you,” Knox mutters while avoiding eye contact.

I know he doesn’t want to admit that he misses me as well.

I smile and look over at the sunrise in admiration.

“I know.” It’s the truth. I miss both of them, but staying here in my teens would have caused too many problems.Too many stupid questions. “You know I didn’t want to jeopardize anything.”

He takes another go at his cigarette.

“I know.”

We don’t say anything for a while. Just allowing ourselves to enjoy the warm sight of oranges and gold as they extend through the sky and begin to steal away the dark blues and blacks of the night’s beauty.

“Your gym is still a popular spot, it seems,” I voice, recalling a group of jocks talking about Knox Gym and how peeved they were that their applications for entry were denied.

Good. We don’t need fake Alphas trying to act rich and almighty within these walls. All they’ll do is taint the image Knox worked so fucking hard to maintain.

“Word still spreads far and wide,” Knox admits. “We’ve had to turn down a bunch of applicants. A shame, but we only had one person drop a spot this year.”

Damn.

“The entire year?” I have to ask for clarification because Knox is the type to always try to make space for new applicants quarterly.

“No one wants to leave,” Knox laughs as his eyes meet mine. “Can you blame them?”

“Nope.” It’s the truth. “The biggest luxurious gym with the perfect low exposure cinematic aesthetic to make them look like carved gods’ in their social media pictures and videos. How would they possibly give up this space that secures them dates with the very limited pool of Omegas?”

Our society is rather desperate now that there’s an official Omega shortage.

We knew it was coming. We’d been warned for years of the decline in Omegas versus the Alpha ratio, but now, with it looking to be estimated at 1:50, we’re borderline to having an emergency.

The real question is, how do you solve a potential Omega crisis in a society that juggles between whether their existence is valued or disdained?

We Alphas see the value in having an Omega, but logistics don’t help much when half of the Omega population only want a rich, successful Alpha who can spoil them with nothing but designer while they pop babies.

Babies that aren’t guaranteed to become Alphas or Omegas in the future.

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