Page 244 of Omega for the Pack

“It’s my notice,” I said quietly, biting my lip. I could literally hear my mother in my head, sad and disappointed in me. “I feel like it’s time for me to move on and do something new.”

Lucia’s eyes flashed as she looked at the letter.

“Today is your last day?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t handle the pressure, huh? This job is tough on single omegas looking to screw a few alphas,” she said snidely.

What the fuck? This bitch…

Without saying another word, I turned and walked out of her office for the very last time.

And I didn’t look back.

When I got homethat day, I flipped on the living room light in the cramped apartment I lived in.

The drive home after work in my rusty old car was a relief. Self-doubt, excitement, and uncertainty filled me during the entire drive. I couldn’t believe what I just did. I’d contemplated quitting it for years but hadn’t gotten the guts to do it. It just wasn’t my passion.

I dropped my keys onto the coffee table, flopping on the couch. Every bone in my body was tired from my overnight shift and odd hours. Even the purse I wore felt like a brick as I dropped it on the floor.

Sighing, I relaxed on the couch, gazing at my numerous paintings hanging on the walls. I spent time after work and on my off days painting in my spare room of the house. I’d then hang them all over my living room. Covering the wall entirely in art.

I didn’t have many clients who’d come over to look at my paintings and buy them, but when I did- the pay was worth it.

Slowly getting up as my thighs ached, I started a cup of tea in the kitchen. The rent was due sometime next week, and I had no savings. It was probably irresponsible of me to quit, but I did have a gig to help with wedding venue design for my cousin this Saturday. It should be enough to cover me for a while. While the tea kettle boiled, I walked around the apartment, closing the windows. It was chilly, and I was getting cold.

Three series of knocks sounded on my door.

I sighed.

I didn’t feel like seeing anyone today. I just wanted to relax, cry, or mope around for a little before I could celebrate my new life. It just wasn’t a good time right now.

“Who is it?” I said upon opening the door.

“It’s me, sweetie,” said my mother, walking into my apartment without a care in the world. Behind her, my three alpha fathers followed her inside.

Great. An impromptu visit.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“We thought we’d check in on you since you didn’t reply to my text for two days,” said my mom, Steph. She was dressed in her college professor uniform, wearing her black pencil skirt and blazer. She had straight black hair with streaks of gray in it, while I had very curly hair. She was considered a stunning beauty back in the day, with alpha packs fighting for her attention. I felt like a disappointment in her eyes, even though she never said it. My dads, Jon, Seth, and Rob, cherished my mother like crazy, each attending to her different needs in the pack. Jon was the oldest of my fathers, with short gray hair, and he was pouring the tea I made in the kitchen, oblivious to our conversation.

“I’ve been so busy,” I said quickly, which was a half-lie. Mom had been texting me about the Omega Ball constantly. I didn’t want to go to the Omega Ball this year. Every year I’d go and have high hopes, but no one was interested. I was on the chubbier side and twenty-eight, which made me ancient for omega standards and not as desirable.

“The ball is tomorrow, and I thought we could go all together as a family,” said Mom, sitting carefully on the edge of my couch like it would contaminate her. My apartment was too artsy and messy for my mother’s taste. Her house was always immaculate, with minimal design and not a stain in sight. She would alwaysbe annoyed when I pulled out my paintbrushes and canvases in her house, but now I was free to do that in my own home.

“But Mom,” I sighed. “I was going to skip going this year. It doesn’t make a difference, and alpha packs aren’t interested in me. I’m still freaking single, and I’m just going to continue to live my life.”

“Jade,” she said, her face wrinkling as she tried to understand what I was saying. She didn’t look happy at all. I couldn’t imagine what she’d say if I told her I quit my job. There was no way in hell she’d let me live that down. “You can’t skip going to the Omega Ball. You’re an omega and should support anything that helps other omegas.”

Omegas were rare in Howl’s Edge Island; I’ve heard this conversation a million times from her.

I was sick of it.

I was sick of being different and trying to prove a point to alphas who didn’t care. Omegas were deemed incapable of anything except producing alpha babies for a pack. That long-standing belief still carried on today, with betas getting way more freedom. I had to constantly slather on my scent blocker cream so I could pass for a beta in the streets. An omega was in danger of getting kidnapped and sold if caught. We had distinct smells and auras that alphas could detect a mile away. I always stayed my distance from a large hulking alpha for fear of getting taken into his pack or sent to the Omega Auctions.

“If anyone treats you badly at the Ball, we will handle them accordingly,” said my father, Seth, who was balding and the tallest of the three.

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