Page 35 of Hard Knot

“Oh, so I’m up to your standards, hmm?”

“Shut up,” I brush him off, deciding to get back on topic. “Five years is usually the cut-off. If an Omega hasn't been claimed by then, they're considered..." I wave my hand vaguely. "Defective. Useless. A waste of resources."

"And what happens then?"

The question makes my stomach clench.

"Nobody knows for sure.” I have to shrug while I think about it. “They just... disappear. Some say they're sent to rehabilitation centers. Others think they're sold off to foreign packs. The optimistic ones believe they're released back into society."

"But you don't believe that," he says.

It's not a question.

I meet his gaze steadily.

"Would you?"

"No," Carter says quietly, his hazel eyes darkening with something that looks like understanding. "I wouldn't believe it either."

I give him a small smile, surprising myself with how genuine it feels.

"Then again, you could look at it from a different angle. In some twisted way, this place protects us from what's out there." I gesture vaguely toward the windows. "At least in here, we have walls between us and the real monsters."

His brow furrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Unclaimed Omegas don't last long out there." My voice comes out harder than I intended, bitter with remembered pain. "They get kidnapped, raped, left in alleyways to die. And they're lucky if the government even bothers to identify the body at that point. Most just end up as another statistic – another 'unfortunate incident' in the weekly reports."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Carter says carefully, his thumb still making those maddening circles on my foot. "Did you know someone who..."

The question hangs in the air, and suddenly I'm not in the locker room anymore.

I'm standing in a sterile morgue, staring at crime scene photos spread across a metal table. The fluorescent lights are too bright, making the images seem surreal, like a horror movie instead of reality.

Jessie's reality.

I don't realize I'm crying until Carter's warm hand brushes my cheek, his touch gentle as he wipes away a tear I didn't know had fallen.

"I'm not—" I start, then stop, swallowing hard. "I'm not usually this emotional. I'm not that kind of Omega."

"There's nothing wrong with expressing your emotions when your heart is hurting," he says softly, and something about the simplicity of his words breaks something loose inside me.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I see past the dangerous Alpha exterior to something that looks almost...relatable. I find myself nodding slowly before looking down at my lap, where my hands are twisted together so tightly my knuckles have gone white.

"Her name was Jessie," I say, the words coming out barely above a whisper. "My best friend. She was..." I have to pause, searching for words that could possibly do her justice. "She was everything I'm not. Bright, optimistic, always wearing these ridiculous neon colors and telling me to 'live a little.'"

Carter stays silent, but his hand moves from my cheek to cover my twisted fingers, offering quiet support.

"I never got to see her body…not really. Just the photos." I let out a shaky breath. "They needed an Omega who knew her to identify her because her family... they didn't..." My voice cracks. "They didn't give a damn.”

How the memories sting. They bring back that overwhelming anger I used to carry into anything that let me physically let it out. Dance, fighting, any type of sport that I could use my unresolved rage to my advantage and win.

It was obviously negative and bad for my own mental health, but at least it was a form of grieving I could thrive off of since no one else cared to listen or acknowledge my pain.

“Can you believe that? Their own daughter…unidentifiable after the traitorous harm done to her just because she was an Omega. The least your parents could do is come see you one last time. Come tell the world that you were there and they were mourning the loss of their own."

A bitter laugh escapes me, the sound harsh and frustrated as I shake my head.

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