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Omega Revealed

Omega Revealed

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SERIES: Omegas of OAN
BOOK: 1 of 4
STANDALONE? Interconnected with a Series Arc
TROPES: Hidden Omega, Superheroes, Accidental Mating Bite, Unplanned Pregnancy, Going Into Heat at Work, Sex First Feelings Later, Menage, Breakup Due to Misunderstanding, Alpha Male

This workplace meeting just got hot.

Beth is in the middle of an important meeting at OAN Global Tech when her heat suppressants fail. She’s hidden her omega status for years only for them to stop working at the absolute worst possible time. When her Alpha boss takes her hostage it’s up to the head of security, Finn, and his beta lover and second-in-command, Holden, to defuse the situation.

The problem? She really likes the way they smell.

Both of them.

Their love was forged in fire, bloodshed, and tears.

After surviving their stint in the military and capture by the Theta-devs both Finn and Holden have settled down into civilian life. In between attacks everything is great. They have each other, their friends, and their work at OAN, but then they answer a security alert and find more than they’d expected.

The woman they’re sent to rescue isn’t a beta like her file says. She’s an omega, and she’s in heat.

Beautiful, sweet, delicious Beth. She fits between them perfectly, all soft curves and fertile omega. Is it possible to take something amazing and turn it into perfection?

Omega Revealed is the first novel in the Omegas of OAN series. Each book is a standalone that follows a different couple but there is a series arc and they are best read in order. A content guide is available for readers with sensitivities on the authors website www.alexisbosborne.com

There was nothing that Beth hated more than eight o’clock in the morning meetings on a Monday except for, perhaps, decaffeinated coffee. Because, really, what was the point of it? She took a sip of her large coffee and groaned softly under her breath as she wished that the elevator would hurry the fuck up. She was running ten minutes late. Everything had just seemed to take her forever today. 

First, her hot water had gone out and she’d had to take a sink bath and throw dry shampoo into her hair. It wasn’t the same as a real shower at all, and then she’d realized that she’d left her ‘carefully picked out just for the special meeting today’ outfit at the dry cleaners. She’d had to quickly cobble together something else. Then she’d had to run back to her fourth story walk-up to grab her datapad that she’d forgotten, causing her to miss her usual subway train and wait for the next one.

It was just one of those mornings where nothing could quite seem to go right, and now the barista had apparently given her decaf instead of regular. She was already dragging ass today. This was not going to make things any easier.

A beta male in the elevator sniffed and side-eyed her warily as he shifted his coffee cup from one hand to another while the sleek, steel elevator glided noiselessly up the OAN skyscraper. 

She ignored him as she checked her emails on her datapad and sipped her accidentally-decaf coffee. People had been giving her weird looks all morning. She knew that her sponge bath wasn’t a real substitute for a shower, but man, she’d done the best that she could. The young, holo-tattooed barista had stared at her dumbly while fixing her order, and then the commuters in the subway had pressed a little too close to her while there was still a bit more room down at the other end of the subway car for spreading out. Weird.

She paused from deleting her junk mail to look down at her smart but still casual business outfit. Navy slacks, a light cream sweater, and sensible flats. It was professional and neat, nothing flashy. She looked like every other busy New Yorker trying to make it another day in the never-ending rat race of a city. So why all the weird looks today? She ran her tongue over her teeth, checking for lipstick smudges, as her thumb deleted another sales alert from her inbox. 

Beth pretended to scratch an itch on her nose with a shrug of her shoulder as she sniffed her armpit, but she’d definitely remembered to put on deodorant today.

“Floor thirty-one,” the elevator’s AI system announced overhead as it stopped and the man in the well-tailored suit stepped out. He glanced at her with a funny face until the silver doors slid shut and the elevator continued its ascent. 

Beth’s stomach flip-flopped. She wondered for a moment if it was just nerves about the impending meeting or if last night’s reheated take-out was off and she was getting sick. This was not the week for food poisoning, dammit. She had way too many things to get done on this project to afford to get ill right at the crucial moment. They were just days away from finishing stage one and this next bit was paramount.

Her nostrils flared and she focused on her breathing. 

A twinge of nausea caught her off guard, and her bowels cramped.

“I’ve detected an increase of greater than ten percent in your heart rate, Miss Sawyer. Is everything alright?” the AI concierge asked in a politely concerned, disembodied voice. 

If an AI could sound concerned, of course. Beth figured that if any artificial intelligence system could sound like it had emotions, then it would definitely be the one developed by OAN Global Technology. Orrson Sarratt was a certified genius, and his advances had done more to throw humanity full steam into the future than anyone else from their lifetime. The AI system that oversaw the entire building seemed eerily all-too-human at times.

She flashed a shy smile up at the camera mounted in the corner of the elevator’s ceiling. It was a habit of hers. She liked to look at him when they spoke. Was it a ‘him’? Really, it only seemed polite to not call SYSTEM an ‘it’.

“I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today,” she told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Shall I inform Dr. Wyse and Ms. Foxwell?”

Beth shook her head. “Please tell them that I’m running late but I’ll be there with the data they requested.” She patted her oversized crossbody bag and datapad, a nervous habit that she had of always checking to make sure that she had them, while she tried to ignore the cramping in her gut. The awful sensation moved lower. Her period? Beth did calendar math in her head. No, she wasn’t due for another two weeks. The nausea worsened, so she stopped sipping on her coffee. It, and its woeful lack of caffeine, wasn’t helping her anyway.

“Very well, miss. Floor seventy-five,” SYSTEM announced. 

The elevator doors slid open and Beth made her way quickly down the shiny metal and glass corridor. The sliding door of the lab whisked opened for her as she tried to slip quietly into the conference room at the back, quickly making her way to her seat. It was the only empty one left. Programmers and scientists glanced up from their papers as she entered.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said shyly as she settled into her chair and started unpacking her bag while trying not to make too much noise or draw too much attention to herself.

Dr. Wyse smiled his shy little one-sided quirk of the lips at her. “Thank you for finally joining us.”

Beth glanced at him and smiled back. From anyone else, that phrase would have had a sarcastic or passive-aggressive edge to it, but not from Dr. Wyse. He was as mild-mannered and polite as they came. Disgustingly nice, one might say. He turned back to the hologram projection of the Lazarus project and continued speaking to his team of scientists.

Beth’s attention waned as her mind drifted. She focused on not ruining the meeting by getting sick all over the conference room table. Her insides churned and the room felt uncomfortably warm. She shouldn’t have worn a sweater. Usually, the labs were a little chilly to account for the lab coats that nearly everyone wore, but today it felt stifling. Sweltering.

Was she running a fever? Her sweater felt too hot and way too tight. It itched and scratched at her neck. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbow and bounced her foot as she let her eyes glaze over while the scientists chatted about their progress and roadblocks. The Chinese were hoarding the processor chip that they needed because they wanted a higher price per unit after the latest PR debacle between their CEOs at some gala in London last month.

Shit, pay attention.

Beth tried very hard to focus but corralling her thoughts was starting to feel like a Herculean task.

Ms. Foxwell leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Are you feeling okay?”

Beth gave the competent beta woman a wry smile. “Not the greatest,” she admitted, “I think I’m coming down with a stomach bug or something.”

Foxwell’s expression turned thoughtful as the woman leaned in and sniffed her shoulder. “You do smell . . . different.”

Beth’s stomach twisted again and her mouth ran dry. 

There was a pitcher of water on the table. She grabbed it and poured herself a cup. She drank it greedily, but it only made the cramping in her stomach worse. 

A couple of the scientists turned to stare at her expectantly, their faces contorted into a frown as she poured herself another glass with slightly trembling hands. A jolt went down her spine and ended in a flare of ache and discomfort in the small of her back. She almost moaned.

Beth sat up straighter in her chair and glanced a little repentantly at Dr. Wyse.

“Beth?” Dr. Wyse prompted. “You have the financials and requisitions, right?”

She nodded and swiped her finger across her datapad as she flicked through to the information that he wanted and beamed it up onto his projection screen. Get it together, girl. Just get through lunch and then you can maybe go home early and call in sick tomorrow. They’d be okay without me for a day and a half, right? Her work for the project was probably at a standstill for a little bit, anyway, until they got those chips and moved onto phase three of testing. She could probably afford to take a day or two off once this meeting was over. Maybe.

“Y-y-yes,” she stammered as she pulled the expense sheet file from the folder and flicked upwards, adding it to the screen. “We were over budget for the quarter by two hundred thousand credits, but I’ve managed to cut that down to just thirty-one thousand by renting some of the equipment that we won’t need long term. I have a few other budget cut ideas for the other sub-departments to help us balance it out.”

Dr. Wyse nodded and asked her to send him the information, then moved his attention to the scientist seated at the other end of the table. 

Beth nearly heaved an audible sigh of relief once his eyes were off of her. She settled back into her chair and zoned out for the rest of the meeting. 

The dull ache in her back wrapped around her pelvis and burrowed into her thighs. She shivered and twitched. Her body felt hot and cold at the same time, and it felt like she’d been zapped by an electrical current. The hairs on her arms stood up in a flash of goose-flesh. What kind of illness was this? Maybe I should stop by the walk-in clinic on the way home just to be safe.

Her body throbbed. Her face felt flushed and hot. She wanted to pull the horrible itchy sweater over her head. What had she been thinking when she’d picked it out this morning? It was horrible. Uncomfortable against her too-sensitive skin.

A bead of sweat dampened the fine hairs along her forehead. She shifted in her seat and tried to force herself to relax as she pretended to pay attention to the meeting. I’ve got to stop spacing out. This was her job, after all, and it was one that she enjoyed even if it could be a little boring at times. Accounts managing wasn’t generally an exciting career; however, working for OAN certainly had its more interesting moments. For an omega, having any sort of meaningful job like this was absolutely unheard of, and she took immense pride in her work. It was important.

Beth fidgeted in her seat and ignored Foxwell’s concerned look. The cramp in her belly twisted and tightened, then released. Moisture poured from her body and saturated her panties before bleeding onto her pants and pooling under her butt on the seat. 

Beth’s eyes widened. 

Holy crap, had she just shit herself? Gotten her period early? 

She waited in horrified silence for three seconds as time seemed to stretch and slow into an eternity.

The plastic stylus that Dr. Wyse had been pointing with snapped in half right in his hand. Everyone in the room looked up at him and time seemed to fall into slow motion. 

His nostrils flared and a ring of black tinted his normally hazel eyes as his pupils broadened into wide-blown, black circles. His head swiveled and suddenly he was looking right at her. His gaze bored into hers, his nose twitching as he scented the room. His chest rose and fell dramatically as he took in big gulps of air. Brown faded and black took over until his eyes practically glowed with a deep ferocity as his pupils continued to expand, engulfing his irises, and his attention fully locked onto her.

Fear overpowered her shame and embarrassment as she stared back at him in mute horror.

Her Alpha boss was staring at her like she was a juicy steak and he was a starving wolf. A predator among sheep, and her, the prey.

Her core throbbed and more moisture pooled within her slick-soaked panties. Her walls clamped down around air, hungry. Wanting.

No . . . no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. She’d always been so careful. Always took her heat suppressants. Never skipped a dose. Even if it meant forgoing other luxuries to be able to afford black market, questionably sourced drugs. Oh God, no.

SYSTEM came on over the speakers overhead. “Dr. Wyse, I am detecting a spike in your vital signs.”

Everyone held their breath as they waited for the doctor to report the all-clear, that he’d regained control of himself.

It never came. 

Foxwell unholstered her sidepiece, and scientists scrambled up from their chairs. 

It was absolutely the wrong thing to do. 

Dr. Wyse’s tenuous grasp on his self-control snapped, and his body twisted as it exploded up and out. His lab coat strained at the seams, threatening to rip, as lean, wiry muscles bulged and grew. He swelled, his blood rushing to expand the muscles of his body in preparation of either fucking or fighting. For an Alpha in rut, either one would do. Brutal. Depraved. Rutting alphas only cared about getting blood on their knuckles and slick on their cocks.

The alarm klaxon wailed overhead as SYSTEM called a Code Alpha overhead.

Beth heard a ringing in her ears and her legs felt weak and stupid as Dr. Wyse lunged across the table, knocking Foxwell aside with the back of his hand like it was nothing. Like she was a rag doll. He growled a low and menacing sound that echoed through Beth’s body. 

Her guts twisted, and a resulting flood of moisture exploded from her body at the sound. An ingrained, Pavlovian response. Her panties were absolutely soaked. It wicked through the thick material of her dress pants and crept down her thighs. 

She heard whimpering and whining, and realized belatedly that it was coming from her. She was the one who was making those pathetic sounds. Omega mewls and whimpers, meant to appease an angry Alpha and trigger his mating urges in the hopes that he’d simply rut her without causing too much damage, then leave once his prick was satisfied. Hopefully without breaking her in the process.

Dr. Wyse picked her up off her office chair as easily as one would pick up a child. His grip was firm but gentle. He hoisted her into the air and carried her into the corner, batting scientists and office furniture out of his way as the room panicked and everyone tried to flee for safety all at once. They made a disorganized, chaotic jumble of people instead. Men and women scrambled over one another in their haste to run to safety.

He lifted her until she was inches from his big, scowling face as he stared down at her with hazy, rut-confused eyes and sniffed the top of her head deeply. His face split into an eerie grin and his nostrils flared with every breath. It was chilling. The kind, mild-mannered doctor whom she’d worked under for years was gone, and in his place was a caricature of that man. 

He wasn’t a person anymore, just an Alpha intent on one thing. 

Her.

“Omega,” he moaned as he isolated them in the office corner and turned his back to the room to shield them from the others. Protecting her from other potential Alphas in case they should dare interrupt. Attempting to claim her. Stealing her for themselves.

Beth wiggled in his grasp, but it only made him tighten his grip and growl at her. The sound rasped against her hindbrain and sent another torrent of slick down her trembling thighs. She whimpered and dug her nails into his arm as she clenched against the strain within her, and her clit throbbed in automatic response. A shiver wracked her body as she tensed. The doctor made a shushing noise. Something deep and guttural, but broken. She realized that he was trying to purr, trying to soothe her with his Alpha pheromones and his calming sounds even as he held her captive in his grasp and pawed at her. The sound was poorly managed, doing nothing to lull her into complacence or acquiescence. She struggled weakly against his firm grip.

Her body felt hot and needy, and she moaned as her thighs rubbed against each other while she struggled vainly. It wasn’t enough. 

She needed to get away . . . needed . . . wanted . . . friction.

Instinct won. 

Beth ached to be filled and fucked and knotted. Her body felt empty and wrong. Her clothes were too tight. Her skin felt too hot and far too small for her. A horrible keening sound of a distressed omega filled the room between the doctor’s stuttering, clumsy, unaccustomed purrs.

A potent chemical-laden scent tickled her nose until she sneezed. The doctor smelled like chai tea and warm milk, but there was a sour note to his scent as if the cup of tea had been left out in the hot sun until the milk curdled. Her nose crinkled and her lips parted in an attempt to breathe without taking in more of that horrid scent.

The veins in his neck pulsed and his scent glands pushed his scent into the air, dumping Alpha pheromones into the room. The smell of him turned her stomach until she thought that she was going to be sick. Her nose scrunched up tight, and she panted through her mouth as her body tried to shut his scent out of her nostrils. 

Something felt horribly wrong. She hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t . . . didn’t . . . it was all wrong. 

Even as her mind rebelled, horrified and unwilling, her body yearned for him. This man. Any Alpha. Someone to take her. Claim her. Something to fill all of her aching, empty parts and make her whole again. Complete her. Bind her. Break and breed her. The hidden, chemically suppressed urges were free now and they hammered at her mind.

The doctor sniffed her neck and made a face. His grip on her shifted and his arm brushed against her aching breasts. Her nipples pebbled, sending a bolt of arousal straight to her core. 

She whimpered. A high-pitched keening sound that begged for more.

Beth fought it even still while she struggled to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn’t have to smell his noxious scent as she writhed vainly in his grasp. He held her by the neck with one hand and dragged a finger between her clothed legs until it came away wet. He raised it carefully to his nose and sniffed. Beth moaned and shifted in his grip, embarrassed that she’d enjoyed his large, rough finger as they’d slid over her damp crotch and pressed her dress slacks tight between her legs. 

Her clit was strained, swollen, and plump against her wet panties. Need filled and consumed her as she struggled uselessly against his Alpha rut-powered grip.

Her body tightened and thrummed. Her omega rose to the surface and purred. Alpha. 

He might not be her Alpha and he might not be remotely pleasant to her omega, but he was still an Alpha and something deep down inside of her lizard brain wanted her to just relax and let go. Let him take her. Enjoy the fucking.

Slick slid down her inner thighs and something inside of her loosened and opened. She was tired of fighting. Of hiding. Of the constant vigilance and struggle. What had she been running away from? The press of his skin against hers was sublime. Everything she’d ever wanted, but hadn’t known she needed. 

Alpha, her omega purred in sexed-out, needy bliss.

Everything else in the room faded away as instinct took over and she was boiled down to one thing. 

An omega in heat. 

Need incarnate trapped in the grip of an Alpha in rut.

SERIES: Omegas of OAN
BOOK: 1 of 4
STANDALONE? Interconnected with a Series Arc
TROPES: Hidden Omega, Superheroes, Accidental Mating Bite, Unplanned Pregnancy, Going Into Heat at Work, Sex First Feelings Later, Menage, Breakup Due to Misunderstanding, Alpha Male

This workplace meeting just got hot.

Beth is in the middle of an important meeting at OAN Global Tech when her heat suppressants fail. She’s hidden her omega status for years only for them to stop working at the absolute worst possible time. When her Alpha boss takes her hostage it’s up to the head of security, Finn, and his beta lover and second-in-command, Holden, to defuse the situation.

The problem? She really likes the way they smell.

Both of them.

Their love was forged in fire, bloodshed, and tears.

After surviving their stint in the military and capture by the Theta-devs both Finn and Holden have settled down into civilian life. In between attacks everything is great. They have each other, their friends, and their work at OAN, but then they answer a security alert and find more than they’d expected.

The woman they’re sent to rescue isn’t a beta like her file says. She’s an omega, and she’s in heat.

Beautiful, sweet, delicious Beth. She fits between them perfectly, all soft curves and fertile omega. Is it possible to take something amazing and turn it into perfection?

Omega Revealed is the first novel in the Omegas of OAN series. Each book is a standalone that follows a different couple but there is a series arc and they are best read in order. A content guide is available for readers with sensitivities on the authors website www.alexisbosborne.com

There was nothing that Beth hated more than eight o’clock in the morning meetings on a Monday except for, perhaps, decaffeinated coffee. Because, really, what was the point of it? She took a sip of her large coffee and groaned softly under her breath as she wished that the elevator would hurry the fuck up. She was running ten minutes late. Everything had just seemed to take her forever today. 

First, her hot water had gone out and she’d had to take a sink bath and throw dry shampoo into her hair. It wasn’t the same as a real shower at all, and then she’d realized that she’d left her ‘carefully picked out just for the special meeting today’ outfit at the dry cleaners. She’d had to quickly cobble together something else. Then she’d had to run back to her fourth story walk-up to grab her datapad that she’d forgotten, causing her to miss her usual subway train and wait for the next one.

It was just one of those mornings where nothing could quite seem to go right, and now the barista had apparently given her decaf instead of regular. She was already dragging ass today. This was not going to make things any easier.

A beta male in the elevator sniffed and side-eyed her warily as he shifted his coffee cup from one hand to another while the sleek, steel elevator glided noiselessly up the OAN skyscraper. 

She ignored him as she checked her emails on her datapad and sipped her accidentally-decaf coffee. People had been giving her weird looks all morning. She knew that her sponge bath wasn’t a real substitute for a shower, but man, she’d done the best that she could. The young, holo-tattooed barista had stared at her dumbly while fixing her order, and then the commuters in the subway had pressed a little too close to her while there was still a bit more room down at the other end of the subway car for spreading out. Weird.

She paused from deleting her junk mail to look down at her smart but still casual business outfit. Navy slacks, a light cream sweater, and sensible flats. It was professional and neat, nothing flashy. She looked like every other busy New Yorker trying to make it another day in the never-ending rat race of a city. So why all the weird looks today? She ran her tongue over her teeth, checking for lipstick smudges, as her thumb deleted another sales alert from her inbox. 

Beth pretended to scratch an itch on her nose with a shrug of her shoulder as she sniffed her armpit, but she’d definitely remembered to put on deodorant today.

“Floor thirty-one,” the elevator’s AI system announced overhead as it stopped and the man in the well-tailored suit stepped out. He glanced at her with a funny face until the silver doors slid shut and the elevator continued its ascent. 

Beth’s stomach flip-flopped. She wondered for a moment if it was just nerves about the impending meeting or if last night’s reheated take-out was off and she was getting sick. This was not the week for food poisoning, dammit. She had way too many things to get done on this project to afford to get ill right at the crucial moment. They were just days away from finishing stage one and this next bit was paramount.

Her nostrils flared and she focused on her breathing. 

A twinge of nausea caught her off guard, and her bowels cramped.

“I’ve detected an increase of greater than ten percent in your heart rate, Miss Sawyer. Is everything alright?” the AI concierge asked in a politely concerned, disembodied voice. 

If an AI could sound concerned, of course. Beth figured that if any artificial intelligence system could sound like it had emotions, then it would definitely be the one developed by OAN Global Technology. Orrson Sarratt was a certified genius, and his advances had done more to throw humanity full steam into the future than anyone else from their lifetime. The AI system that oversaw the entire building seemed eerily all-too-human at times.

She flashed a shy smile up at the camera mounted in the corner of the elevator’s ceiling. It was a habit of hers. She liked to look at him when they spoke. Was it a ‘him’? Really, it only seemed polite to not call SYSTEM an ‘it’.

“I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today,” she told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Shall I inform Dr. Wyse and Ms. Foxwell?”

Beth shook her head. “Please tell them that I’m running late but I’ll be there with the data they requested.” She patted her oversized crossbody bag and datapad, a nervous habit that she had of always checking to make sure that she had them, while she tried to ignore the cramping in her gut. The awful sensation moved lower. Her period? Beth did calendar math in her head. No, she wasn’t due for another two weeks. The nausea worsened, so she stopped sipping on her coffee. It, and its woeful lack of caffeine, wasn’t helping her anyway.

“Very well, miss. Floor seventy-five,” SYSTEM announced. 

The elevator doors slid open and Beth made her way quickly down the shiny metal and glass corridor. The sliding door of the lab whisked opened for her as she tried to slip quietly into the conference room at the back, quickly making her way to her seat. It was the only empty one left. Programmers and scientists glanced up from their papers as she entered.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said shyly as she settled into her chair and started unpacking her bag while trying not to make too much noise or draw too much attention to herself.

Dr. Wyse smiled his shy little one-sided quirk of the lips at her. “Thank you for finally joining us.”

Beth glanced at him and smiled back. From anyone else, that phrase would have had a sarcastic or passive-aggressive edge to it, but not from Dr. Wyse. He was as mild-mannered and polite as they came. Disgustingly nice, one might say. He turned back to the hologram projection of the Lazarus project and continued speaking to his team of scientists.

Beth’s attention waned as her mind drifted. She focused on not ruining the meeting by getting sick all over the conference room table. Her insides churned and the room felt uncomfortably warm. She shouldn’t have worn a sweater. Usually, the labs were a little chilly to account for the lab coats that nearly everyone wore, but today it felt stifling. Sweltering.

Was she running a fever? Her sweater felt too hot and way too tight. It itched and scratched at her neck. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbow and bounced her foot as she let her eyes glaze over while the scientists chatted about their progress and roadblocks. The Chinese were hoarding the processor chip that they needed because they wanted a higher price per unit after the latest PR debacle between their CEOs at some gala in London last month.

Shit, pay attention.

Beth tried very hard to focus but corralling her thoughts was starting to feel like a Herculean task.

Ms. Foxwell leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Are you feeling okay?”

Beth gave the competent beta woman a wry smile. “Not the greatest,” she admitted, “I think I’m coming down with a stomach bug or something.”

Foxwell’s expression turned thoughtful as the woman leaned in and sniffed her shoulder. “You do smell . . . different.”

Beth’s stomach twisted again and her mouth ran dry. 

There was a pitcher of water on the table. She grabbed it and poured herself a cup. She drank it greedily, but it only made the cramping in her stomach worse. 

A couple of the scientists turned to stare at her expectantly, their faces contorted into a frown as she poured herself another glass with slightly trembling hands. A jolt went down her spine and ended in a flare of ache and discomfort in the small of her back. She almost moaned.

Beth sat up straighter in her chair and glanced a little repentantly at Dr. Wyse.

“Beth?” Dr. Wyse prompted. “You have the financials and requisitions, right?”

She nodded and swiped her finger across her datapad as she flicked through to the information that he wanted and beamed it up onto his projection screen. Get it together, girl. Just get through lunch and then you can maybe go home early and call in sick tomorrow. They’d be okay without me for a day and a half, right? Her work for the project was probably at a standstill for a little bit, anyway, until they got those chips and moved onto phase three of testing. She could probably afford to take a day or two off once this meeting was over. Maybe.

“Y-y-yes,” she stammered as she pulled the expense sheet file from the folder and flicked upwards, adding it to the screen. “We were over budget for the quarter by two hundred thousand credits, but I’ve managed to cut that down to just thirty-one thousand by renting some of the equipment that we won’t need long term. I have a few other budget cut ideas for the other sub-departments to help us balance it out.”

Dr. Wyse nodded and asked her to send him the information, then moved his attention to the scientist seated at the other end of the table. 

Beth nearly heaved an audible sigh of relief once his eyes were off of her. She settled back into her chair and zoned out for the rest of the meeting. 

The dull ache in her back wrapped around her pelvis and burrowed into her thighs. She shivered and twitched. Her body felt hot and cold at the same time, and it felt like she’d been zapped by an electrical current. The hairs on her arms stood up in a flash of goose-flesh. What kind of illness was this? Maybe I should stop by the walk-in clinic on the way home just to be safe.

Her body throbbed. Her face felt flushed and hot. She wanted to pull the horrible itchy sweater over her head. What had she been thinking when she’d picked it out this morning? It was horrible. Uncomfortable against her too-sensitive skin.

A bead of sweat dampened the fine hairs along her forehead. She shifted in her seat and tried to force herself to relax as she pretended to pay attention to the meeting. I’ve got to stop spacing out. This was her job, after all, and it was one that she enjoyed even if it could be a little boring at times. Accounts managing wasn’t generally an exciting career; however, working for OAN certainly had its more interesting moments. For an omega, having any sort of meaningful job like this was absolutely unheard of, and she took immense pride in her work. It was important.

Beth fidgeted in her seat and ignored Foxwell’s concerned look. The cramp in her belly twisted and tightened, then released. Moisture poured from her body and saturated her panties before bleeding onto her pants and pooling under her butt on the seat. 

Beth’s eyes widened. 

Holy crap, had she just shit herself? Gotten her period early? 

She waited in horrified silence for three seconds as time seemed to stretch and slow into an eternity.

The plastic stylus that Dr. Wyse had been pointing with snapped in half right in his hand. Everyone in the room looked up at him and time seemed to fall into slow motion. 

His nostrils flared and a ring of black tinted his normally hazel eyes as his pupils broadened into wide-blown, black circles. His head swiveled and suddenly he was looking right at her. His gaze bored into hers, his nose twitching as he scented the room. His chest rose and fell dramatically as he took in big gulps of air. Brown faded and black took over until his eyes practically glowed with a deep ferocity as his pupils continued to expand, engulfing his irises, and his attention fully locked onto her.

Fear overpowered her shame and embarrassment as she stared back at him in mute horror.

Her Alpha boss was staring at her like she was a juicy steak and he was a starving wolf. A predator among sheep, and her, the prey.

Her core throbbed and more moisture pooled within her slick-soaked panties. Her walls clamped down around air, hungry. Wanting.

No . . . no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. She’d always been so careful. Always took her heat suppressants. Never skipped a dose. Even if it meant forgoing other luxuries to be able to afford black market, questionably sourced drugs. Oh God, no.

SYSTEM came on over the speakers overhead. “Dr. Wyse, I am detecting a spike in your vital signs.”

Everyone held their breath as they waited for the doctor to report the all-clear, that he’d regained control of himself.

It never came. 

Foxwell unholstered her sidepiece, and scientists scrambled up from their chairs. 

It was absolutely the wrong thing to do. 

Dr. Wyse’s tenuous grasp on his self-control snapped, and his body twisted as it exploded up and out. His lab coat strained at the seams, threatening to rip, as lean, wiry muscles bulged and grew. He swelled, his blood rushing to expand the muscles of his body in preparation of either fucking or fighting. For an Alpha in rut, either one would do. Brutal. Depraved. Rutting alphas only cared about getting blood on their knuckles and slick on their cocks.

The alarm klaxon wailed overhead as SYSTEM called a Code Alpha overhead.

Beth heard a ringing in her ears and her legs felt weak and stupid as Dr. Wyse lunged across the table, knocking Foxwell aside with the back of his hand like it was nothing. Like she was a rag doll. He growled a low and menacing sound that echoed through Beth’s body. 

Her guts twisted, and a resulting flood of moisture exploded from her body at the sound. An ingrained, Pavlovian response. Her panties were absolutely soaked. It wicked through the thick material of her dress pants and crept down her thighs. 

She heard whimpering and whining, and realized belatedly that it was coming from her. She was the one who was making those pathetic sounds. Omega mewls and whimpers, meant to appease an angry Alpha and trigger his mating urges in the hopes that he’d simply rut her without causing too much damage, then leave once his prick was satisfied. Hopefully without breaking her in the process.

Dr. Wyse picked her up off her office chair as easily as one would pick up a child. His grip was firm but gentle. He hoisted her into the air and carried her into the corner, batting scientists and office furniture out of his way as the room panicked and everyone tried to flee for safety all at once. They made a disorganized, chaotic jumble of people instead. Men and women scrambled over one another in their haste to run to safety.

He lifted her until she was inches from his big, scowling face as he stared down at her with hazy, rut-confused eyes and sniffed the top of her head deeply. His face split into an eerie grin and his nostrils flared with every breath. It was chilling. The kind, mild-mannered doctor whom she’d worked under for years was gone, and in his place was a caricature of that man. 

He wasn’t a person anymore, just an Alpha intent on one thing. 

Her.

“Omega,” he moaned as he isolated them in the office corner and turned his back to the room to shield them from the others. Protecting her from other potential Alphas in case they should dare interrupt. Attempting to claim her. Stealing her for themselves.

Beth wiggled in his grasp, but it only made him tighten his grip and growl at her. The sound rasped against her hindbrain and sent another torrent of slick down her trembling thighs. She whimpered and dug her nails into his arm as she clenched against the strain within her, and her clit throbbed in automatic response. A shiver wracked her body as she tensed. The doctor made a shushing noise. Something deep and guttural, but broken. She realized that he was trying to purr, trying to soothe her with his Alpha pheromones and his calming sounds even as he held her captive in his grasp and pawed at her. The sound was poorly managed, doing nothing to lull her into complacence or acquiescence. She struggled weakly against his firm grip.

Her body felt hot and needy, and she moaned as her thighs rubbed against each other while she struggled vainly. It wasn’t enough. 

She needed to get away . . . needed . . . wanted . . . friction.

Instinct won. 

Beth ached to be filled and fucked and knotted. Her body felt empty and wrong. Her clothes were too tight. Her skin felt too hot and far too small for her. A horrible keening sound of a distressed omega filled the room between the doctor’s stuttering, clumsy, unaccustomed purrs.

A potent chemical-laden scent tickled her nose until she sneezed. The doctor smelled like chai tea and warm milk, but there was a sour note to his scent as if the cup of tea had been left out in the hot sun until the milk curdled. Her nose crinkled and her lips parted in an attempt to breathe without taking in more of that horrid scent.

The veins in his neck pulsed and his scent glands pushed his scent into the air, dumping Alpha pheromones into the room. The smell of him turned her stomach until she thought that she was going to be sick. Her nose scrunched up tight, and she panted through her mouth as her body tried to shut his scent out of her nostrils. 

Something felt horribly wrong. She hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t . . . didn’t . . . it was all wrong. 

Even as her mind rebelled, horrified and unwilling, her body yearned for him. This man. Any Alpha. Someone to take her. Claim her. Something to fill all of her aching, empty parts and make her whole again. Complete her. Bind her. Break and breed her. The hidden, chemically suppressed urges were free now and they hammered at her mind.

The doctor sniffed her neck and made a face. His grip on her shifted and his arm brushed against her aching breasts. Her nipples pebbled, sending a bolt of arousal straight to her core. 

She whimpered. A high-pitched keening sound that begged for more.

Beth fought it even still while she struggled to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn’t have to smell his noxious scent as she writhed vainly in his grasp. He held her by the neck with one hand and dragged a finger between her clothed legs until it came away wet. He raised it carefully to his nose and sniffed. Beth moaned and shifted in his grip, embarrassed that she’d enjoyed his large, rough finger as they’d slid over her damp crotch and pressed her dress slacks tight between her legs. 

Her clit was strained, swollen, and plump against her wet panties. Need filled and consumed her as she struggled uselessly against his Alpha rut-powered grip.

Her body tightened and thrummed. Her omega rose to the surface and purred. Alpha. 

He might not be her Alpha and he might not be remotely pleasant to her omega, but he was still an Alpha and something deep down inside of her lizard brain wanted her to just relax and let go. Let him take her. Enjoy the fucking.

Slick slid down her inner thighs and something inside of her loosened and opened. She was tired of fighting. Of hiding. Of the constant vigilance and struggle. What had she been running away from? The press of his skin against hers was sublime. Everything she’d ever wanted, but hadn’t known she needed. 

Alpha, her omega purred in sexed-out, needy bliss.

Everything else in the room faded away as instinct took over and she was boiled down to one thing. 

An omega in heat. 

Need incarnate trapped in the grip of an Alpha in rut.

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