Page 11 of Two For the Show
“So romantic, Janet. We can only hope they find their Omega soon, and that she is not scarred from the experience.”
That’s not what’s scarring me, but thanks for the assumption, Todd.
It’sthe middle of the night when it hits. The aching pain in my abdomen, the fever that I can’t seem to sweat out.
I double over, fighting to hold back the vomit that threatens to spill from me.
Sylvia turns the light on in the hallway, shuffling in. I’ve told her so many times, she doesn’t need to do this. I can get through this on my own. I have to.
But she won’t let me.
“Come on, now, sweet girl,” she coos, slipping into the bed beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. She holds a trash can in front of my face. “You’re going to have to let it out.”
Like her words are all the permission I need, I lose my dinner into the trashcan.
For the past two weeks, every night, like clockwork, I’vebeen waking up in pain. It’s like a heat spike, almost, but I’m a doctor, and I know better than to assume it is something that simple.
I have Foresaken Omega Syndrome, an illness that affects Omegas when not regularly exposed to compatible Alpha pheromones. And mine is probably worse than most cases, considering I had a scent match, went on heavy suppressants, met new scent matches, left them, and went back on suppressants.
My hormones are fucked up, and when and if I do finally go into heat, it may break me.
“I know those three Alphas are awful, and I’m not suggesting you go back to them,” Sylvia is saying as she rubs my back. “But why not go back to the circus? Why not your Beta?”
“It’s compromised,” I remind her. “There is someone there who has contact with my ex. I can’t go back, because he’ll probably show up the next day.”
“And you don’t think those boys would protect you?”
They would do their best. They would.
But Rich, Greg, and Tripp have money. They have clout and power.
What can a bunch of carnies do against that kind of pack?
Not that I see them as carnies. They’re not. It’s a circus, not a carnival. They’re elite performers, with acts that are worthy of a permanent Vegas show.
But I know how the media is going to spin this, howRichis going to spin this.
A pack of Alpha carnies abducted me, forcibly holding me away from my pack until I got FOS.
The FOS will be used to discount my side of the story, even though I am a doctor and still have my wits about me.No, in this case, the word of my ‘Alphas’ will override mine.
We’re relatively progressive in how we treat Omegas as a whole in our society, but medicine is one area where we still lag behind. Some states even require that Omegas get permission to go on suppressants. It’s barbaric and annoying, but we’ve learned to work the system to the best of our ability, despite its restrictions.
Except Rich learned that, too. And no doubt he’ll find a way to use it against me.
“They would,” I tell her after a particularly brutal round of dry heaving. “But I don’t think they’d win, and I can’t let them get hurt trying to protect me. This is the best thing I could do for them.”
“Bullshit,” she snaps, the curse sounding strange from the soothing Beta woman. “They’re probably worried sick, trying to figure out how to get you back. I have no doubt they will have sussed out the snake in their midst, and are waiting for you to go back to them.”
“I was a complication they didn’t need.” The pain starts to lessen, and I feel my body slumping against the pillows. I stretch out, and Sylvia follows me down, running her fingers through my sweat-soaked hair.
“Doesn’t one of them have the Rot?” she asks softly. “You don’t think he’s hurting with you gone?”
Alpha Rot, an inherited disease that weakens an Alpha and will eventually kill them, is a more permanent version of Foresaken Omega Syndrome.
And I left Quinton, knowing he suffers from it.
“Of course he’s hurting!” I snap. “I am, too! But this is what’s best for both of us.”
