Page 7 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

Dr. Reeves’s smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—concern, curiosity, and something I can’t quite place. Maybe he’s wondering if I’m going to go full She-Hulk on his office.

“Of course,” he replies smoothly. “Why don’t we step into my office and discuss this in private?”

I follow him down a long, gleaming hallway, the sterile white walls pressing in on all sides. My heart pounds against my ribs, every step echoing with a resolve I’m desperate to hold on to.

I won’t let them see how rattled I am. I’m cool. I’m calm. I’m collected. I’m also lying through my teeth.

The office is all sharp angles and glass, the floor to ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of the city below. Dr. Reeves gestures to a pair of plush chairs, but I remain standing, my arms crossed defensively over my chest. I probably look like a bouncer at the world’s most uptight nightclub.

“I’ll stand, thanks. Sitting is overrated anyway.”

He shrugs, settling into his chair with an easy confidence that grates on my nerves. “As you wish. Now, what seems to be the issue with your match, Ms. Aria?”

“The issue,” I say, my voice trembling with barely contained anger, “is that I never consented to be part of your system. I want to know how you got my information and why you think you have the right to dictate my future. Did you guys raid my diary or something?”

Dr. Reeves leans back, steepling his fingers as he considers me. “Look, I get it. You’re freaked out, but we aren’t the bad guys here, okay? We’re just the messengers, delivering what your biology is screaming at us.” He sounds like he’s telling me my horoscope, not turning my life upside down.

“Information I never asked for,” I bite out. “I don’t remember putting out a help wanted ad for my love life.”

He sighs, leaning forward slightly. “Ms. Aria, are you aware of the new Omega Registration Act that’s about to be passed?”

A chill creeps down my spine. “What does that have to do with anything? Is this some new reality show I didn’t sign up for?”

“Everything, I’m afraid.” He picks up a tablet, tapping a few times before turning the screen toward me. “The act will require all omegas to register with the government by the end of the month and undergo mandatory scent matching. Scent Synergy has been tasked with overseeing this process.”

My stomach drops faster than a skydiver without a parachute. “That’s… That’s not legal. It can’t be. What is this,The Handmaid’s Tale: Omega Edition?”

Dr. Reeves’s expression softens, though his eyes remain hard and unyielding. “It will be very soon. The act is being fast-tracked through legislation as we speak. It’s designed to ‘ensure the safety and well-being of omegas,’ according to the official statement. Your information was part of a preliminary database compiled by the government. We believe it may have been obtained through medical records or employment data. Your match with Pack Clarke was so strong that it triggered an immediate notification, even before the act is officially passed.”

My legs buckle, and I sink into the chair, my mind spinning like a carnival ride. The room suddenly feels too small and warm. My scent spikes with distress, and I see Dr. Reeves’s nostrils flare. I probably smell like a citrus-scented dumpster fire right now.

“This can’t be happening,” I whisper more to myself than to him. “I feel like I’m in a bad dystopian novel.”

“Ms. Aria, you must understand that this match isn’t just rare—it’s statistically improbable. The potential benefits to societyare immeasurable,” Dr. Reeves says, his tone turning clinical. “I know this is overwhelming, but matches of this strength are incredibly unusual. It’s quite remarkable, really.”

“Remarkable?” I choke out, anger flaring hot and fast. “My life is being ripped apart, and you think it’s remarkable? I don’t care if this match is rarer than a dodo bird sighting. It’s my life, not some science experiment. What’s next, putting me in a zoo exhibit?”

He holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “I apologize. That was insensitive, but you need to understand the gravity of your situation. Once the act passes, refusing to acknowledge a match of this magnitude could have serious repercussions.”

“What kind of repercussions?” My voice barely rises above a whisper, fear settling like a stone in my chest. “Are you going to send the omega police after me?”

“Legal action and possible fines.” He pauses, scrutinizing my reaction. “Even mandatory bonding in extreme cases.”

The room spins, the walls closing in. Mandatory bonding? The words sting like a slap across the face.

“This is insane,” I say, my voice shaking. “You can’t force people to bond. It’s a violation of basic human rights. What’s next, arranged marriages for betas?”

Dr. Reeves sighs, his expression resigned. “I understand your perspective, Ms. Aria, but the government views it differently. They see it as a matter of public health and societal stability.”

I stand abruptly, my movements jerky. I probably look like a malfunctioning robot. “What about Pack Clarke? Do they know? Are they in on this twisted game of matchmaking?”

“Yes,” Dr. Reeves confirms. “Mr. Clarke was notified at the same time you were. Given the strength of the match, we believed it was essential to inform both parties immediately.”

Pack Clarke knows. They know everything. A fresh wave of panic surges through me, and memories of their hands, their scents, flood back in vivid detail.

“I need to leave,” I choke out, my legs already carrying me toward the door. “I can’t… I won’t let you turn my life into some twisted science experiment. I’m not a lab rat.”

Dr. Reeves rises quickly, his expression almost pleading. “Ms. Aria, please. There are ways we can help. Options to make this transition easier?—”

---