Page 3 of Happy Birthday, Omega
“So, uh, what brings you to the theater?” He asks in a false casual tone, his body tightening by the second. His eyes fixate on the throbbing spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Her mating gland.
“I-It’s my birthday,” she squeaks, her tight smile sliding off her heated cheeks. She swallows thickly, her heart rate thumping quicker and quicker.
A deep rumble resonates in his chest, responding to her unintentional submission, and April feels a trickle of slick drip into her panties. His nostrils flare and his hands clench at his sides. Inky black pupils rapidly swallow up the deep brown color of his eyes.
The smallest high-pitched whine slips through her lips, and she watches as he visibly flinches. Other Alphas in the room twist in her direction, noses lifted high and questing to find the origin of the blooming Omega arousal.
“Alright, you two. That’s enough.”
A firm push on her lower back and her chaperone steers her out of the theater atrium and into the waiting academy car. She’s chastised for putting herself into a potentially dangerous situation with an unknown Alpha, but she can barely hear the words over the rushing of blood in her ears.
The entire drive to the dorm, April replays the meeting again and again. It’s the first time her body has reacted that way to an Alpha, and she feels exposed. Vulnerable.
She never even got to say goodbye to Bryce, but he visits her dreams from that night onwards.
4
Onhernineteenthbirthday,April Howard receives a card.
It doesn’t arrive until she is sitting in the dining hall with the other Omegas eating lunch and contemplating whether this will be the year her secret birthday admirer forgets about her like everyone else.
Just as she grumpily takes a bite of her calorie-controlled chicken salad, a snooty Beta receptionist strides into the hall, clutching a massive bouquet of light pink roses. Her name is yelled, and she barely has time to turn before the Beta tosses the bouquet carelessly at her. She catches them with a grunt, and some of the delicate petals squish in her hands. The receptionist doesn’t answer when April calls after her, asking who dropped them off.
Tucked into the arrangement is a familiar cream envelope.
Happy Birthday, Omega. I hope these roses smell as sweet as you.
Her eyebrows raise. The tone is different this year. It’s flirtatious and with an unspoken intimacy that fills her with an excitement she rarely feels these days.
She’s in her fourth year at The Omega Academy and her classes have taken an uncomfortable turn. Her teachers say that she’s approaching the age where Alphas will court her with the intention of mating, and she needs to be prepared. On her rare excursions outside of the academy, she feels the press of hungry Alpha eyes following her more and more.
They switched her poetry class, her favorite, for something simply called “Omega Prep”. As far as she can tell, it’s about learning how to flirt with Alphas while still appearing virtuous. If she hears another lecture about the correct amount of eye contact, she might just scream. The entire experience is unbearable.
Recently, she’s noticed that her hormones have become unbalanced, and she’s highly suspicious that the academy is tampering with her dosage. Since she presented, the drug has helped suppress her natural Omega urges and pheromones. Her control is slipping daily, and she’s never wanked so much outside of a heat before.
She’s also begun picking up scents she’s never noticed before. Her fellow students each have their own unique signature smell and she can identify who will walk through the door before they appear. The grumpy headmistress smells like printer ink and cat hair.
Taking a whiff of the card, she’s surprised to detect the faintest scent clinging to its fibers. She spends an embarrassing amount of time sniffing the card as she tries to figure out what it smells like. It’s earthy, yet not something found in nature. It oddly reminds her of a classroom. She eventually gives up, fixating instead on the gorgeous spray of pink flowers.
April genuinely believed that she would never apply the knowledge acquired in her flower arranging class, but she now privately acknowledges that she did an excellent job of arranging her birthday present on the windowsill.
The roses stay there until the last petal drops, and even then she’s reluctant to throw them away. She keeps a single petal pressed between the pages of her favorite poetry book.
She wonders whether her secret birthday admirer is now a secret birthday suitor.
5
Onhertwentiethbirthday,April Howard receives a card.
In fact, it actually arrived two days prior, attached to the front of a large white box tied with an ivory ribbon. She restrained herself from tearing it open the moment it had arrived in her dorm room, waiting until it was the morning of her birthday to unwrap her present.
Happy Birthday, Omega. I know you’ll look stunning in my gift. Wear it for me?
The message sends a shiver down her spine and a tingle to her most private place.
Sitting on her bedroom floor, she delicately unties the ribbon and opens the box. Inside is a long, slinky, midnight blue dress with sequins that make it shimmer in the early morning light.
April gasps, her hands shaking as she gently runs them down the luxurious fabric. The dress is clearly designer and tailored to her exact size. She breezes past how strange it is that her secret birthday suitor knows her measurements. It’s a lavish gift, far too much to be gifted anonymously.
