Page 47 of Packing for Vacation

“Yeah, well, that’s part of what happened,” I say, drumming my fingers against the wooden tabletop. “I knew I was going to be an omega years before I revealed—I had the genetic testing done, you know the one people get done in order to get on Preventar? I very nearly went on that drug, but in the end I decided not to. For me it was the restrictions and potential side effects, they were too much for me to feel comfortable taking a medication that was still so new to the market.”

“Do you regret that decision?”

I look directly at Scott. His handsome face is completely neutral, as was his tone when asking that question, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lip. “You’re such a lawyer.”

“What? What did I do?” he asks, face splitting into a grin, leaning back and folding his arms. “Forgive me for not wanting to influence your answer.”

I make a gesture that hopefully reads as this evidence right here is exactly why I said that and Matiu shakes his head, amused.

“Do you, Lizzie? Regret becoming an omega?”

“I did. Like I said, my size and body shape changed, and my ADHD got worse, so yeah. And if you’re an omega it’s supposed to be normalised that you go into heat and have to guzzle cum and ride knots or at least heavily medicate and use a shitload of sex toys if you’re going solo, but when you’re from a family of betas it’s not normal. People make really inappropriate statements, I’m always the butt of jokes at Christmas—hence why I didn’t even think twice about not seeing my extended family this year. I’m here, not having to deal with that shit.”

The stillness that settles between us is laced with tension. I’m very aware that they’re both alphas I’m scent matched to, that we’re biologically ‘made for each other’ and I’ve just said I regretted not taking Preventar, one of the most controversial medications out there. For many, the option to find out whether you’re going to reveal as an omega from a simple blood test and prevent that from happening has been a lifesaver, but it’s also rocked the foundations of alpha-omega relations. Omegas are already rare. The ‘removal’ of potential omegas from the courting pool is something a number of alphas have an issue with, and my gut feeling is that far more alphas think the same thing but don’t say it out loud. I don’t think Scott and Matiu are like that, but what does it mean for me, for us, if I say that I regret becoming an omega, having had the opportunity to choose otherwise?

“I used to regret it,” I say again, looking between them. “I don’t now.”

“Because it’s failing in some patients?”

“No.” I shake my head, giving Matiu a wry smile. “Though yeah, that was maybe the start of me feeling vindicated that I’d made the right decision. I feel so sad for those affected. Has Īhaka dealt with some cases?”

“He’s mentioned it. I don’t think there’s much by way of legal recourse for any omegas caught up in it here in Aotearoa.”

Scotty hums in agreement. “You don’t regret it?” he prompts, keeping me on track.

“I don’t regret it,” I repeat, looking between them, the feeling in my chest scary because I know exactly what it means. This is real. I might get hurt. “Because I found you two.” I suck in another deep breath, their scents on my tongue. “Can we finish the conversation in my nest?”

I half expect them to accuse me of trying to get out of answering the original question, but Matiu’s quiet “Yeah, babe,” brings tears to my eyes, the lump in my throat that much bigger than before. I’m lifted into his arms, and there’s no offhand jokes about my weight, just his quiet strength as he carries me into the house and up the stairs. The soft click of the front door echoes through the air, Scott’s voice a low murmur as he tells Barry to be a good boy, and then his footsteps are following us, the fifth step creaking as it always does, the familiarity of this place shocking after so little time.

It feels like home.

Matiu hovers at the edge of the mezzanine for a moment, ever the respectful alpha despite the fact that he’s slept here almost every night. “Come in,” I whisper against his neck. “I want my alphas to hold me.”

Few words are spoken after that. These alphas, my alphas, intrinsically know what I need. Closeness, layers peeled off until flesh presses against flesh. There’s a time for games in bed, a time for no-nonsense sex and pure raw fucking, and then there’s this, where I feel as if I’m made of glass and one fall will break me, but every gentle touch of theirs is a promise that they will hold me, catch me, keep me and my heart safe.

They curl around me, a sheet pulled over us, and I close my eyes, breathing in our mingled scents. “Okay,” I say quietly. “I think I can explain the rest of it now.”

I start with the way I’d been so naïve, how I’d wanted to experience pack life and group sex before revealing as an omega, convinced that would allow me to have better control over the whole thing, having experienced it without the influence of intense hormone dumps. I’d signed up to NestMate, the dating site for those who wanted to find a pack, stating on my profile that I had the omega gene but had not yet revealed, and had met my old pack that way. Four men, all in their thirties. They’d been living as a pack for a year, and were eager to find their omega. I remember thinking that they were a catch.

After a whirlwind romance I’d gone home with them to a small town that was in hindsight, dangerously isolating. I was fine, but things could have gone so wrong.

“Looking back, everything was so stupid, but I was only twenty-four at the time. So young.” I snort, shaking my head as I stare up at the dark shape of the rafters that I can only just make out. “I built a nest in their home for us all without any nesting drive, which is so embarrassing now that I think about it. I was playing pretend. But the main thing is that I was clear from the start that I never wanted kids. I was going to be childfree by choice for the rest of my life, and they promised me that they understood. They said that line: ‘we’re on the same page.’”

It’s been three years since I left, and most days I can think about the past with a sense of detachment, as if it all happened to someone else. Today isn’t one of those days. I fall silent, doing my best to swallow down my white-hot anger.

“They changed their mind?” Scotty whispers.

“No,” I scoff. “Worse. They were lying. Blatantly so. It took three years for me to reveal as an omega, which was longer than any of us anticipated.” They’d grown antsy about it, and the last few months prior to my reveal had been full of tension. Now I understood why. “I loved them and they loved me, or at least that’s what they said. We were happy. I spent Christmases with their families. We went on vacation together. We got a dog.” My breath hitches, thinking about Coco. She’d been a courting gift for me, a beautiful, sweet Pomeranian, and I loved her more than anything.

“They were genuinely convinced that all omegas want children. They thought that once I revealed, I would magically change my mind. They did not tell me this until after my first heat with them.”

Matiu’s quiet “What the fuck?” has me shaking my head again.

“It’s fucking stupid, right? Why even go on a single date with the woman whose profile says childfree? Why waste my time? Why waste theirs?!”

Hearing the words “Let’s take you to get your IUD out this week” the morning after my heat broke had felt like someone had tossed a bucket of cold water over my head.

“I didn’t know what to do, because I built a life in that town, and with them. We had Coco…”