Page 49 of The Omega Switch: Part 1
I had to be the most reliant and obedient omega ever. But when I looked back, I hadn’t always been that way. I was my mother’s daughter - curious, independent, and full of ideas. I had always wanted to try new fragrances, develop new products, and work alongside my mom in the lab. It wasn’t until she passed when I was a young teen that things started to change.
My fathers basically checked out of parenting at that moment, and I didn’t get much comfort from them. I grieved privately, throwing myself into my work. When they’d brought in Clara and Arabella a few months later, I was still so out of it that I could barely process the change. Their strong personalities so easily clashed with my own. And my fathers always, always sided with them.
It was easy to see what had happened. I’d been thrown aside, a useful tool for the company but otherwise not needed or wanted.And because they thought of me that way, I’d eventually started to see myself that way.
But that stopped now. I took a deep breath, researching ways to overcome my dependency. Part of the process was to practice holding strong boundaries, but that was clearly proving to be more difficult that it seemed when my family chose to ignore my boundaries by forcing me around with alpha barks. But there was something else I could do.
I needed money, but my fathers controlled my account. But, I had an idea. I could ask to purchase my own supplies for the lab for personal projects - that was something they would usually allow. I quickly looked up some of the most expensive equipment I could find, knowing that there was a local physical store nearby and a generous return policy.
Then, I crept out of my room, going to the study where Aaron was reading. I knocked gently on the door, and he looked up, surprise on his face.
“Ivy? What is it?” He asked, and I lowered my head in false deference.
“I’d like to purchase some supplies for the lab. From my personal account, as it’s a side project. Can I send you the links so they can be purchased?” I asked, and he nodded. That was simple - he didn’t care if I worked on personal projects. They often led to new innovations. I thanked him, turned and headed down to the kitchen. I was lucky that Mara was working today.She was humming to herself, kneading some bread before she looked up at me.
“Ivy! Good to see you out and about.” She said with a smile when she spotted me. But I quickly approached her, close enough to whisper in her ear.
“I need a favor,” I said. Mara’s eyes widened, and she quickly glanced around before pulling me behind the pantry door.
“What is it?” she asked in a hushed tone, and I took a deep breath.
“I have some supplies that will arrive sometime this week. Would you be able to return it for me, for cash, but bring the money directly to me? And keep it between us?” I asked, and her eyes widened slightly before she nodded.
“I just-” I started to explain, but Mara stopped me.
“I’ll do it. Just tell me when.” She said, and gave me a proud smile. I always knew Mara was on my side, but it felt good to have just one person I could trust. She mimed zipping her lips, then glanced out the door, giving me a nod before she walked out. I let out a deep breath, relieved that I’d be getting a little of my own money at least - some form of independence.
I quickly stepped out, meaning to head back to my room. But as luck would have it, Arabella herself was walking out from the living room, staring at her phone before she looked up and noticed me. She immediately threw me a look of disgust.
“What are you doing down here?” She asked, and I braced for whatever insults she had brewing in her head.
“I still have to eat just like everyone else,” I said, grabbing a protein bar from the pantry while she looked me up and down.
“You should work on a diet and fitness routine. Being cooped up all day doesn’t help you get a pack,” she said before tossing her hair over her shoulder. I should have let it slide. But I’d been letting everything slide for years, and where had it gotten me? I was so used to getting walked over that my own father’s control had ruined my match with the pack I was supposed to be with. So I finally said something.
“Hey, Idohave a pack.” I snapped at her, and she looked up at me, her expression bored. “I know it, and you know it. Why can’t you just tell the truth?” I asked, and though my voice had started off strong, I was now pleading. Arabella rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Oh, not this again." She sighed.
My hands clenched at my sides. "Arabella, please." The word tasted awful. I was always begging. Begging for recognition, for my own money, even begging to eat more food.
"Are we seriously still talking about this? Get over it," she said sharply, and I stared at her in disbelief.
"Please just tell the truth. They won’t hold it against you. Do you really think you can keep this charade up forever? You don’thave my personality. You can’t possibly think it will work long term.” I said, trying to use reason with her, dancing around saying things directly to prevent my voice from choking. As it was, I was already growing hoarse.
Arabella stepped closer, an angry sneer on her face. This was an expression the public never saw.
"You really think Pack Vale wants some awkward lab worker who can barely hold a conversation?" I felt my throat tighten more. "You think they want someone who can't even make eye contact for more than five seconds?"
"Stop," I said, my voice weak. She ignored me.
"You've built this fantasy in your head where they somehow chose you. But they didn't." She snapped, stepping toward me as I backed up, my back hitting the wall.
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her the reports proved otherwise. I wanted to throw every piece of evidence in her face. But I couldn't speak of it directly. Instead, years of insecurity crawled up from places I'd spent a lifetime trying to bury. Arabella saw it happen, then landed her next blow perfectly, like she always did.
"If they wanted you," she said softly, "they would have noticed you. Even if they knew you matched with them, they would never have accepted you. Trust me - I’ve heard the way they talk about you.”
I felt my breath catch. Was she lying? After the scratch incident, I didn’t doubt they thought the worst of me. She leaned in, her smile cruel.
