7. Mila

Chapter 7

Mila

M y representative's name is Felicia, and she's much too bright and perky for my liking.

She talks as if being an Omega is the best goddamn thing imaginable, even though she is Beta, and that I can put all my trust in her and the academy.

She's brainwashed, pretty much, and the quicker I can get away from her and her superiors, the better.

But it's a small price I am willing to pay. I have to endure her crap just so I can warn Oliver about Lily.

I don't know what will happen after. When we part ways, I will most likely be placed with a pack.

I am told that the pack I choose will be my choice, but why do I have a feeling they are just saying that to make me feel better?

Truth be told, I have never felt so hollow. For the first time in my life, I have no purpose, and now I just go with the flow, letting other people dictate how I live.

I will become nothing but a pretty puppet. Property of the government. Freedom is no longer a choice here.

No wonder so many Omegas run away.

All of it reassures me that I made the right choice all along to hide my identity. Being Beta and having the opportunity to train as a soldier was a gift, I learned, in the end, and a privilege.

As Felicia walks me across campus to my new dorms, it becomes immediately obvious that I am not like other Omegas.

Their bodies are not as strong as mine. They are delicate and dainty. Several plant flowers in a garden, and others knit by a stream. Some Omegas are painting in a circle, and others are doing yoga.

It's like a little village here, and everywhere I look, I see bright smiles.

However, those smiles vanish when they find me, and then the whispering starts.

Already, I am the talk of the town.

Felicia gushes. "You're going to love it here, Daisy. You have everything you could ever want and more. We have a gym, a swimming pool, dance studios, cooking classes…"

But no shooting range classes.

I think I will pass.

The whispers grow around me, and now my ears burn.

"Sounds amazing," I lie, trying to ignore the malicious stares of several Omegas.

Damn, they look as if they walked straight out of a postcard. They wear pastel-colored dresses, and there is no black or camouflage to be seen.

Finally, we arrive at a block of offices, and Felicia leads me to a small cubicle so she can enter my name in the database.

They still have no idea I am Mila Stone, so let's hope it stays that way.

"So, Daisy," Felicia starts, loading her computer. "What kind of pack are you hoping to join?"

My mind draws a blank, and I wet my lips, thinking of my answer.

My best bet is to give her a standard one.

What does every Omega dream of? Like hell I'd know.

The only other Omega I knew was Oliver, and he'd already had his dream.

I suppose I could say that I just want a pack that treats me right. But I would be lying there also.

I don't want to go through the system; I don't want to even have to choose a pack because I don't want to get hurt again.

I had a pack, and they broke my heart.

They abandoned me, and I am still licking the wounds of their betrayal.

Felicia cocks her head, and I refrain from rolling my eyes. Her smile is just a bit too bright, and she's too sickly sweet for my tastes.

"Well? Any preferences?"

A sigh looses from me. "I'm not so sure."

Felicia tightens her lips, and it's obvious my answer displeases her. I'm not sure what she expects, for me to gush and list off all my favorite traits in an Alpha, perhaps?

Quite frankly, I've had enough of Alphas.

Alphas have caused me nothing but pain lately, and I just wish I could withdraw from the world and disappear into my own private bubble, but unfortunately, that is not an option here.

Felicia is aware that I'm a 'runaway', and my reluctance to give a specific answer won't work in my favor.

In the end, I give her my answer, batting my eyelashes. "Just a pack who treats me right…"

The woman brightens, and now she types at her keyboard, her fingers working a mile a second.

Wow. Now that is a real skill.

Forget shooting a bullet at long range; I should have gone into secretarial work.

"Don't worry, Daisy. Our algorithms are flawless and will match you up with every compatible pack in the city. You're in good hands now, dear. You just leave your fate to me…"

My chest caves at that last sentence, and I tense my shoulders, peering around the office.

All the other government drones type away at their keyboards, and I spy other Omegas before their desks. One beautiful redhead is listing off with her fingers, telling her representative exactly what she wants in a pack.

She looks so excited, her brown eyes lighting up with every word, and I really am living amongst a group of aliens here.

Or maybe I'm the alien here?

Everyone is so perky and smiley, and I miss the military. I miss having angry drill sergeants screaming in my face, getting their spittle all over my cheeks.

Now I have to deal with faux kindness.

No one is genuine.

Finally, Felicia stops typing, and now she glances up at me, her smile brighter than ever.

"You're all set, Daisy. Right now, our specially curated algorithms are working their magic, matching you up with the perfect pack as we speak. Isn't it exciting?"

A deafening silence follows as she grins that faux smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and I just want to bolt and get to my new room.

"How… lovely…"

Her grin falters, and then she giggles nervously, returning to her keyboard.

"One day, you will thank me… and maybe you will name one of your babies after me."

Oh, dear God.

When is this over?

I return her smile, hoping she doesn't notice that I am internally dying.

She is making me nauseous.

Felicia pushes her glasses up her nose. "You do want to have children right, Daisy?"

Why is she asking this? It's such a personal thing.

What I do with my womb isn't any of her business.

But it all makes sense…

After all, that is what this is all about.

Why else would they have all those pastel-colored Omegas out on campus, knitting, painting, and learning to cook?

They are training how to be mothers.

In the end, I give her an answer. "Of course."

She purses her lips for a moment, assessing me a little while longer. Then with a happy squeak, she goes back to her keyboard.

I never did get to see what she was typing.

"Well, then. That's all sorted. Now, are you excited to see your new room?"

Yes.

I just need somewhere to sleep for the next few days.

But that is not an option.

Tomorrow, I will start my Omega training.

Sounds fun.