Page 23 of Knot Their Omega
None of that nonsense.
Heck, the last pack talked about buying a motorcycle, and I wondered if he’d let their Omega ride it. The sheer horror and disgust that morphed on their faces at the idea of their Omega doing anything like driving a bike with an engine was all I needed to witness.
I picked up my drink and said, ‘Have a good night, Alphas.’
I knew the pool of Alphas was bad from the word through the haven of other Omegas struggles to find a pack, but fuck.
This is horrendous.
No wonder why Omegas are trying to take their power back by setting new boundaries that are legally enforced because what the fuck is this?
We’re sex slaves who talk and are forced to raise a bunch of kids who will be thrown into rich-ass societies and made into replicas of their Alpha Fathers? God forbid one of them is female.
With the way they were talking, none of the packs perceived to want a female child.
How are we going to aid in the decline in the female Omega population when all these packs don’t want a daughter?
Maybe it’s a blessing because forcing an innocent female babe to a group of men who disdain its existence will only set that child up for failure.
They don’t deserve that type of suffering.
“How is your dining experience thus far, Miss Sol?” I look to the attendant who comes by my table, clearly noticing I’m taking a break compared to all the other Omegas working overtime to swoon these men’s dicks long enough to exchange contact information.
“It’s fine, thank you,” I brush it off because I don’t need her to go off on the importance of interacting with these packs. I’m not here to be an entertainer. Nor am I being paid to waste my time.
We’re only forced into these stupid meets thanks to the lovely government, which doesn’t know how to instill legal morals onto the population they’re working overtime to pamper. Crazy how they say this is a man’s world, but who are the ones truly running it?
Women.
They don’t mark Beyoncé’s ‘Run the World’ song as an underground Omega anthem song for no reason.The thought has me smirking to myself while taking another sip of my drink.
“Are you sure, Miss Sol? I do have another pack on the list that could fit your interest?” she offers with a hopeful expression. She has to be paid extra nicely with how glowy her skin is. Not a blemish of imperfection in sight.
“I’m not interested,” I admit.
“B-But…”
“Too good for us, Omega?”
I pause in sipping my drink to look to my left, noticing the tall Alpha in a brown suit. Taking him in from head to toe, I can already tell he’s not my vibe at all.
His scent reminds me of dark coffee mixed with… spinach.
Wrinkling my nose, I correct my posture to give him a moment of acknowledgment.
“No. I’ve just exhausted my social battery and can’t be bothered.” There is no point in not being blunt.
“As an Omega, no one else cares about your social capabilities,” he notes in a condescending tone. I have to fight not to roll my eyes. “Our table is scheduled to meet you.”
“How lovely,” I mutter but look uninterested. “Can I have the tab for this, please,” I say to the attendant.
“U-U-Um, sure!” She rushes to get it for me while the Alpha chuckles.
“What? Expecting me to pay for your surplus of alcohol?”
“If you had the financial capabilities, you wouldn’t be bringing it up to begin with,” I note, realizing I’m being far too blunt.
No fucks are given when I’m tipsy. Oh boy… I’m getting myself into shit. I know it.