Page 57 of Toxic

I felt like shit then—an imperfect creature who could get pregnant like an omega but couldn’t carry to term. I was nothing more than a freak.

Any relationship with an alpha meant more of the same: a lifetime of condom sex or more miscarriages. And using rubbers wasn't a 100% guarantee, as I had an instance when the condom broke. The only sure solution was celibacy or a relationship with another infertile beta.

The prospects for my future weren’t optimistic. I remember suggesting to Anton once that he could get a vasectomy. His reaction was intense. He said he didn’t want to think about it, that it was a serious operation and sometimes couldn’t be reversed. I knew then that he really wanted kids and didn’t want to lose that chance—yep, that day, another burden was added to my load.

I even thought about having my uterus removed altogether, but that would affect plenty of other things, including my sex drive, and I wasn’t ready to be castrated in that way.

While I was deep in these gloomy ruminations, I heard Skye fall asleep, his face nestled against my neck, his hand resting warmly and heavily on my waist. It felt so nice to have someone care about you, right? You’d want to keep the person forever, but… that was impossible. I had to start getting used to the idea of finally letting him go.

I felt his nose pressing against the gland in my neck, my barren, useless gland. The one that didn’t produce the pheromonal Allure. The fucking Allure that omegas had in excess, drawing alphas to them. Skye would sniff out his omega one day, for sure. Betas couldn’t just sniff each other out and find the perfect partner—we were gender neutral, like blank slates.

Some of us had a faint natural body scent, recognized by AOs as a very subtle fragrance, either floral or with a sweet, fruity tinge. But it didn’t compare to the true Allure. It didn’t reveal the level of mateship, nor could it trigger the Pull (likethat between AO True Mates). It served no real purpose, acting as an ersatz for the real thing.

I knew my scent was dahlia-like, with a cooler, minty tone. But I was also aware it wasn’t saturated with my pheromones—the missing link. Without it, the scent was just an empty signal, unable to attract any mate.

I wondered why Skye liked it so much, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Lying there with him in bed, I felt overwhelmed and helpless. This one thought tortured me, and seemed so unfair: Even though Skye appeared to be a good guy (and incredibly attractive!), plus he was so selfless about sex—when he touched me, it felt like I was closer to heaven—but all that wonderfulness… simply wasn’t meant for me!

It belonged to his future omega.

We could never be boyfriends.

The realization was both terrifying and somehow comforting—a familiar feeling of numbness, apathy, and grim acceptance of my fate washed over me.

Accepting a failure. Again.

Happiness in a relationship with an alpha was never meant for me. The only stable relationships for me were with other betas, and I should try to find a steady partner among them. The betas' sperm had very low fertility, with less than 3% of them able to impregnate their partners. They were a logical choice for me… but there was one big, gigantic, cosmic-scale problem.

I wasn’t attracted to betas—only to alphas.

And not for lack of trying—I’ve tried so many times to develop feelings for my own subgender.

Take Liam, for example. We went to school together and were friends before I even started seeing Anton in our junior year of high school. Liam pleaded with me several times to date him. He wasn’t the only one—several other beta friends askedme out, but… I just couldn’t. I had to apologize and turn them down. Almost always, these refusals ruined my friendships with those guys, but not with Liam. He stayed by my side faithfully for years. Even when he didn’t get into the same college as Anton and me, but a different one on the other side of the city, we kept in touch online and saw each other every holiday. He was never angry about my refusals. Once, he told me, "They’ll hurt you, Soren, but I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you. I hope you’ll give me a chance someday."

And so, he waited… he waited through Anton, through my phase of being in the Kingdom of Promises, and planned to keep waiting. I knew I would have to give him this chance someday. For his loyalty and perseverance. He was a good, dedicated friend. No matter what I asked for, no matter what help I needed, he was always there.

I sighed, feeling a wave of guilt. I hadn’t told him that the miscarriage had started. He had promised to jump in his car and be here in two hours when I told him about my pregnancy and its inevitable end.

But I still didn’t call him. I preferred… Skye’s help. I don’t know what kind of universe that made sense in. None, really.

My stupid attraction to him was the most likely reason. Madness! His touch. His closeness. Every day we met, it felt like a fever. A few times, I almost suggested full-on sex. I barely held back. Why was there such intense chemistry between us? I didn’t even have this with Anton. Sure, it was good, but nothing like with Skye, where I practically trembled with desire. A few of his strokes over my skin, and I was there, ready to jump his dick. Magic!

Soren, stop! I forced myself to think back to Liam. I should have told him. I owed him that.

Careful not to wake Skye, I reached for my phone on the nightstand, hearing the alpha’s soft breathing behind my ear. I could only type with one hand, but I managed:

"Hey, Liam. It happened today, suddenly. I miscarried. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know, but Skye was here to help. I know, it’s weird. I know I shouldn’t have involved him, but I didn’t have the strength to resist, and I let him take care of things. Don’t be mad, I know you promised to come, sadly it all happened way too quickly."

For a moment, Liam didn’t open the message. Then he did, and there was silence. The typing indicator appeared… then disappeared. Again and again. Yeah, he was struggling with what to say. I got that.

"How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?"

That was all he wrote in the end. I felt relieved and grateful. He didn’t want to add his frustration to my burdens.

"The worst is over. I’ll be good as new tomorrow."

He didn’t reply for a while. I was about to put my phone down when his message popped up.

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