4. Juno

4

JUNO

Juno had been curled up in bed for most of the day. She made sure to respond with her most plaintive “I’m fine” when they checked on her. As the pain of her intensifying cramps fed into the wide open bond, so did their rising annoyance. Her fourth “I’m fine” was met with a scowled “You’re clearly not!” from Eric, ensnared unknowingly into her trap.

“Can we please see the omega gynaecologist soon?” Juno sniffed, clutching her middle. “We can get my implant out and I can get this pain checked.”

Juno certainly hoped so, she was sick of sneaking gulps of whole milk that sent her lactose intolerant stomach rioting. There were no cameras in the pantry to catch her filling her empty oat milk carton with the emergency stash of long life milk she had pilfered from the back. Her pain seemed to register through the bond as generic abdomen pain. She said the magic word (‘uterus’) and made Andrew and Eric’s eyes glaze over.

Eric snapped his fingers impatiently, “Who was the guy we got last time to put in the birth control?”

A desiccated husk of a man with a three strand combover. Juno was pretty sure he wasn’t even qualified for omega healthcare, just a general practitioner they had in their pockets. Overheard at Vincent’s funeral that he died. Shame.

“Dr Chua died three months ago,” Andrew said, without glancing up from his phone.

“Oh no,” Eric deadpanned without sympathy. “Who else then?”

“Aunt Viv’s daughter works reception at an omega health clinic. She’ll get us in quick.” Andrew gave her a suggestive look, and she fought the urge to retch. “Guess your body wants to be bred as soon as possible.”

“Yes, that must be it,” Juno replied with a pitiful sniffle.

Her appointment was thankfully booked for the next day, which was a very good thing considering her secret milk stash was dwindling. Juno spent the time buried in her newest sketch, apparently caught up in a sudden burst of inspiration. She seemed to lose track of time the morning of, jumping up with apparent surprise when Eric barked at her to get ready. An outfit was hastily chosen and her hair was thrown up as quickly as she could, held in place with the closest thing she had at hand.

Her pencil.

It went with the torn scrap of paper she had stuffed in her chosen pants the night before. The pair she had thrown haphazardly on her bed so it could be picked up in a rush under their watchful eye. She didn’t dare write anything on it yet in case she was discovered. Paper could be explained away. Get me the fuck away from these psychos could not.

Juno was just about to step out the door when Andrew stopped her.

“You look ugly with your hair up.”

Fuck.

“I-It’s just a doctor’s appointment. I thought—”

A quick tug and a crucial part of her escape plan was thwarted. He threw the pencil carelessly over his shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

Juno wasn’t sure if Andrew and Eric could sense her intentions or whether their possessive tendencies were just suffocatingly extreme today for no reason. Both insisted on attending. Eric sat in the back with her in the car. Andrew filled out her intake form and handed it back to Aunt Viv’s daughter (her name was Sarah; he didn’t care). She never had a chance to even touch the pen, let alone try to steal it. An elderly omega tried to sit across from her in the waiting room and Eric gave her such a blistering glare she changed her mind and teetered off to the other side of the room.

None of it boded well.

They were soon ushered into a room where they met Dr. Singh, a no-nonsense battle-axe of a woman. She addressed Juno first — Andrew and Eric only got a cursory greeting — and informed her that she didn’t have to have her alphas present in the room. “Some omegas are comforted by the presence of their pack, while others prefer to discuss their health privately without being distracted and pulled in all different directions by their bonds. It’s completely up to you.”

Despite being a beta, Dr. Singh’s only reaction to the two alphas’ warning growls was to give them a withering once-over.

Juno liked her. A lot.

“No, I’m happy to have Andrew and Eric here,” Juno said, her tone falsely bright.

They discussed her birth control removal first, the whole thing making Juno queasy. It worked well when it came to discussing her ‘unexplained’ abdominal pain. Dr. Singh ordered her a blood test and handed her a little specimen cup for her urine sample. “I will do the removal procedure when you return,” she said, directing Juno to the toilets with a wave of her hand.

Andrew followed her of course, but was forced to wait outside. The door was in full view of the waiting room. Even he wasn’t brazen enough to walk into the ladies room in front of half a dozen omegas and their bonded alphas. Juno pushed the door open, her heart racing as it swung shut.

She was finally alone.

Her mind was scrambling, trying to figure out what to do while her body mechanically chose a cubicle and shut herself in.

Then she saw it.

Taped on the back of the door was a sign. And two pens.

A black pen to write her initials on the sample.

A red pen to write her initials on the sample if she was experiencing domestic violence and wished to speak to her health provider alone.

She was looking for a way out and here it was.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

She plucked the red pen from the holder with trembling fingers. It wasn’t enough to just speak to Dr. Singh alone. The alphas would be instantly suspicious and then who knew what they would do to her once they got her home. She needed to convey how urgently she needed to be freed from them today.

It was a massive risk but she had no choice. Instead of her initials, Juno shakily spelled out three red letters.

S O S.

She returned to Dr. Singh’s office, eyes cast downward. She could feel Andrew behind her following her and focused on walking normally. One foot in front of the other. Hand the sample jar to the doctor. The red ink was hidden in her palm and she pictured how she would deliver it so it was faced away from the alphas.

Dr. Singh gave her sample a cursory glance. Juno swore she was going to throw up.

“Wait here, I will get what I need for the procedure.” She strode out of the room briskly without a look back.

She had taken the sample with her.

She had taken the sample with her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Eric hissed. She’d broken out in a nervous sweat, her face and neck unbearably hot and she was pretty sure she was having a heart-attack. Well, at least then she wouldn’t be in this hellish limbo of wondering whether her cry for help would work.

“I-I don’t like scalpels.”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? They’ll put a numbing gel on you. Don’t be such a baby,” Andrew said, dismissively.

Two minutes passed. Then another.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Andrew stuck his head out the door but couldn’t see Sarah at reception. Her replacement called reassurances at him and he huffed, slamming the door shut again.

Another minute passed before Dr. Singh breezed back in, completely unfazed. She set up her tools and began to clean her arm with an alcohol wipe. Numbing cream was slathered over the area and they were ordered to wait for it to take effect.

Another five minutes. Andrew and Eric sat disinterested on their phones, their bodies languid in the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

“Do you feel that?” Dr. Singh poked her arm. Next to where she had applied the cream. Her stare spoke volumes.

“Yes,” Juno whispered.

“Ok, couple more minutes.” She gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. It will be over soon.”

God, it had worked. It had worked. She couldn’t believe it.

Juno would remember the sound of the door crashing open to reveal officers from the National Omega Commission for the rest of her life.