Page 10 of Dream Girl
The best-known Center function was its matching program. Omegas could safely meet vetted packs and alphas, both for permanent bonding and to ease them through their heats if they weren’t ready to mate–or simply didn’t wish to.
Omegas were encouraged to register with their local Center after they awakened so that they could receive the healthcare they needed and get educated about their choices. Identified omegas that hadn’t awakened were welcome, and we had plenty of classes and activities for them, too.
When we pulled up on his motorcycle to the guard station, I flashed my badge and Brennan showed his ID. He drove me up to the staff entrance, which saidStaff Only–No Alphas Allowed.
I took off my helmet and gave my well-appointed alpha a kiss. “Thank you for the ride. Have fun.”
Waving at the delta guard, I used my badge to get in and went to the main area the advocates used.
Claire was waiting for me and handed me a tablet. “Rose has gotten her checkup and bloodwork and is ready for you. I’ve separated her from her mother, but Mom’s getting impatient.”
“Suspicions?” I looked over the file.
“I’ll let you do your magic; she’s in room one.” Claire was middle-aged, her long braids swinging as she moved. Like me, she wore a pink Omega Center polo and a badge.
Every omega who came to the Center was eligible for an advocate, who regularly met with them and acted as a guide and educator. Those under eighteen were legally required to have one. They could also be legally appointed. Mostly, I worked with teenagers and young adults. All our advocates were omegas or betas with omega family members. We had degrees in social work and extensive training. I might not be the advocate that stayed with her, but considering her age, I might.
The room Rose was in was cozy, like a little living room. Most of our spaces were designed to put omegas at ease. I watched through the window as the tiny, pretty, teenage redhead played a game on her phone.
I knocked and then opened the door. Immediately, the girl tensed, and I made note of her body language, and how she relaxed as soon as she scented that I was an omega and not the giant alpha I resembled.
“Hi Rose, I’m Evan Wilson, and I’m an advocate. How are you?” I smiled, trying to put her at ease.
“You’re an omega? You’re so big.” She had braces, her hair in a French braid, omega scent reminiscent of bubblegum.
While bloodwork could detect an omega during early puberty, an omega wasn’t considered mature until they awakened or‘blossomed,’ which meant that special tinge to their scent that marked them as an omega came in, indicating that they were ready for their heat, their fertile cycles, to start. Usually this happened during their late teens or early twenties. Sixteen was pretty early, though not unheard of.
“I am. May I sit?” I asked.
Rose nodded. “I’ve never met a male omega. Is your alpha a man or a woman? Sorry, is that rude?”
“Not at all. Where are you from, Rose?” I asked. Male omegas weren’t nearly as rare as they used to be.
“A small town you’ve never heard of. It’s a pretty long drive. Mama said the alphas would be better here.”
While there was no law that said you couldn’t go to another Center, and people came to us from all over since we were a regional center, something about her words made warning bells go off in my head.
“My pack’s all guys. Want to see?” I pulled up a picture on my phone. A client’s reaction to them always offered me insights.
“Ooh, they’re so big. I can have more than one alpha?” She giggled as if the idea was scandalous. “They’re so cute.”
Huh. Packs were pretty common, especially in cities. My guess was that she was from farm country. Probably to the east of us, where the beta populations were thick and alphas and omegas were rarer. North was ranch country, which tended to have more packs.
“You can absolutely have more than one. Which one do you like best? I won’t get jealous or tell.” I grinned back. That, too, offered insight.
Of course, she could be from the west of us, where there were a lot of fundies. They thought packs were a way to control the population, and every alpha having an omega of their own was divine right.
“Him.” She pointed to Wes, with his dimples.
“Good choice. Tell me about you, you’re sixteen? What’s your favorite subject in school?” I asked, trying to get the conversation going.
Rose told me all about school, her friends, and her hopes and dreams–like wanting to be a surgeon.
“You know, omega doctors are really needed, and not just in the Centers,” I told her.
She frowned, salty sadness in her scent, as her shoulders slumped. “My mom says I can’t be a doctor now.”
“No? Why?” I frowned. There were no laws stopping her.
