7. Juno

7

JUNO

“What do you mean I have to go off heat suppressants?”

It was supposed to be a routine check-up. Twice a year she had bloodwork done as part of the trial’s ongoing monitoring of her health. Based on Dr. Mahoney’s endlessly sympathetic look, the results this time were very different.

“This is something we have unfortunately seen in a few other omegas who have undergone bond dissolution. Particularly in those who were bonded to two or more alphas and have never been on suppressants. We believe it’s a combination of the drugs and the body being used to going through heats. The suppressants would normally regulate the hormones responsible but your body is starting to overproduce them instead to compensate. Have you felt different recently? Responded to any alphas?”

Of course she had.

“A-An alpha at an art exhibition I went to recently. And…” Juno didn’t even want to say it, it was so mortifying. “My lecturer. At Uni.”

She nodded compassionately. “Yes, it does sound like your reproductive system is preparing to go into a new heat cycle again. I also noticed your scent-neutralising products have lost their effectiveness. Your body is fighting against anything that prevents you from seeking out potential partners.”

Great. Just one blow after another.

“Can’t I just take stronger suppressants?” Juno asked desperately. But she already knew the answer before it left Dr. Mahoney’s mouth. Already knew what this would mean. Suffering through heats on her own, locked away for days in pain or…

Alphas.

Vulnerable and dependent on rutting alphas.

“I can refer you to heat services. It’s all very safe, trust me. Heat partners are vetted and wear teeth caps to prevent bonding. There are interviews beforehand so you wouldn’t be meeting them for the first time when you’re in heat.”

She knew how it all worked already of course. Hazel had told her a more colourful version of her experience with heat services. By the end, Juno had to plug her ears and sing over her to block out the endless descriptions of knots.

“I don’t think I could go through with it. I know I meet them beforehand and choose them myself but that doesn’t mean I’d feel safe with them.” Juno wrung her hands, trying not to panic.

“It’s ok, Juno. That’s only one option. We should absolutely find a solution you are comfortable with. Have you considered the courtship galas? I’m sure if you speak to a NOC representative they can include you in the next—”

“No,” Juno interrupted, shaking her head. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than wearing an uncomfortable dress surrounded by packs of alphas. Fending off unwanted advances while competing with omegas far more alluring, beautiful and less damaged than she was.

Dr Mahoney tried a different tactic. “Well, we also have the scent matching system. The omegas who run that are lovely. They’ll be more than happy to help you. Perhaps you can track down your mystery alpha, and meet on your own terms.”

She’d heard of it before, of course. Not all alphas could afford the tickets to the galas, but many paid a yearly membership to have their details and scents on file with NOC. They could also opt-in to heat services if they wished, and have their scent cards added to a separate collection for heat partners.

Was there a coffee scented card in those binders? Juno supposed if she was going to try and find an alpha, sniffing cards was the least intimidating way to go about it.

“I’ll…I’ll make an appointment for scent matching. Thank you.” Juno glanced at her bag where her useless suppressants lay. “How long do I have?” she asked quietly.

“Until your next heat?”

Juno dipped her head, staring at a slightly uneven tile on the floor. Her ears were so full of white noise, she could barely hear Dr. Mahoney’s reply.

“It’s hard to say for certain but based on your previous heat cycles, I would say three to six months.”

* * *

The omegas in the scent matching department were lovely. Aisha, Marco and Layla exuded serious fairy godmother energy, flittering around her offering compliments and reassurance. Each had found their alphas through scent matching. Aisha rubbed her pregnant belly the whole time, Marco had been happily bonded for over 30 years and Layla had created her own pack after being drawn to two individual alphas.

“There’s much less pressure.”

“You can take as much time as you need with the cards.”

“Trust me, darling, it’s much better this way.”

Still didn’t make it any easier though.

Despite the name of the department, they told her that the cosmic idea of ‘scent matches’ was more of a Hollywood thing. “Good for movies and TV shows, not so much how it works in real life.” NOC preferred the term scent sympathetic, where both the omega and alpha had a strong physiological reaction to each other’s scents. But the romanticism of scent matches was hard to erase from the public sphere and unfortunately many still felt it was fated, leading to pack tensions when other aspects of the relationship were not in sync.

“The point is,” Marco summed up. “Whatever happens here is completely up to you and your comfort zone. You are not obligated to meet an alpha just because they smell good.”

Layla explained their system — for each new incoming scent card, their team of omegas would sniff and come to a consensus on the scent profile before meticulously categorising. Alphas scents were characterised by two distinct fragrance notes (omegas had three, and betas one for those playing at home), so both were analysed and cross-referenced.

“We usually give a varied range of scents to see what you’re leaning towards before narrowing it down further from there. Or…is there a scent you’d like to start with?” Aisha gave her a knowing look.

She suddenly thought of fresh pine needles, warmed in the sun.

“You don’t happen to have beta scent cards do you?” she asked tentatively. They exchanged a quick glance before Aisha shook her head. “NOC doesn’t allow us to carry beta scent cards. To be fair, our system wouldn’t be able to handle an influx of that many new profiles. Plus we work with heat services and only alphas can be heat partners.”

Marco scoffed. “Tell that to Antoni.”

Layla leaned in. “His bonded beta.”

“Was there someone else?” Aisha asked kindly.

Juno swallowed nervously. “Coffee with…I think, macadamias.”

They all clapped excitedly and leapt up from their seats.

“Coffee, yes — just like my Luis. I could drink that man up.”

“You do drink that man up.”

“I’ll cross reference with all nutty scents, not just macadamia. Just in case!”

Moments later, she was ushered into a small room with a stack of crisp white cards in individual clear sleeves on the table and blessedly left alone. “As much as we would love to watch you find your person, we know it’s a private thing. We’ll be right outside if you need us,” Aisha assured her before shutting the door.

Juno had no idea there could be so many variations of coffee. Freshly roasted coffee beans, just brewed coffee, cold drip coffee; sweet, bitter, intense. Not to mention the ones that really put her off — burnt coffee, left to sit too long coffee, way too milky coffee. Even when cross-referenced with nuts, she swore she ran the entire gamut from hazelnuts to almonds to newly shelled pistachios.

She was about halfway through when she found him.

Of all the reactions she thought she might have, tearing up out of sheer relief was pretty low on the list. “What the hell,” she muttered as she wiped her eyes.

Maybe this could work after all.

But you still never want a bond.

Juno stared down at the card, labelled only with a long reference number that would match up to a profile in the system. Was it fair to him?

She was teary again when she opened the door, her voice wavering. “Do you think it’s cruel of me to reach out to him even though I don’t think I have it in me to bond anyone ever again?”

The three of them swarmed her.

“Oh honey.”

“As much as most bonds usually happen during heats, it doesn’t mean they aren’t discussed and consented to beforehand.”

“This alpha clearly could come to mean something to you. You deserve a chance at happiness, whatever that may look like.”

Juno handed the scent card over with a tremulous smile. Layla tapped away on her tablet for a few moments before sliding it over.

“Oliver Rivera. Preferred name Ollie,” Layla said with a gentle smile. “Of Pack Rivera-Gunnarsson.”

“We’ll get their scent cards while you look.” Marco winked.

Juno ran a finger over the photo. God, he was cute. Definitely an Ollie and not an Oliver. The photo was a little dated, his hair was much scruffier now and she was pretty sure he had a few extra freckles too. But that boisterous smile, those shining eyes behind glasses — it was him.

He was 27, Filipino/Australian and a photographer. Juno swiped across and it was a new profile.

“Oh, sorry I—”

Aisha glanced over. “That’s the other members of the pack.”

Juno stared down at the piercing gaze of Ollie’s pack mate.

Isaac Rivera. Prime alpha. 34. Filipino/Chinese Singaporean. CFO.

Where Ollie was wild and untamed, Isaac was all structure and sharp edges. His jaw, his neatly styled jet-black hair and crisp shirt collar. She could see a slight familial resemblance there — the same golden tan skin and dark brown irises, but they were clearly half siblings at best.

Juno swiped to the last profile.

Everett Gunnarsson. 32. Swedish/Australian. Civil Engineer.

Could someone look tall in just a photo of their face? Because Everett looked tall. His dirty blonde hair was closely cropped and his icy blue eyes were electric. He was also the only one of the three that was tattooed. There was what looked like the start of full sleeves peeking out from the arms of his T-shirt. Juno stared more closely at his ink in the frustratingly small photo.

“Quite a choice you’ve made there zooming in on his biceps,” Layla observed over her shoulder. “Not that I blame you.”

Juno yelped and hurriedly pinched the screen to zoom back out. “I was looking at his tattoos!”

“Mmhmm.”

Layla squawked as Aisha flung a pen at her head. “Stop teasing her!” Aisha turned back to Juno, pointing at her computer. “My notes say they also have a beta in their pack. All we have is a name — Miles Sullivan.” She tapped away a few more times. “Ooh interesting, Rivera is their omega mother’s surname.”

Hearing this gave Juno a tiny surge of hope. Most packs were named for their prime alphas, but there was a growing trend towards taking their omega’s name to symbolise their central role at the heart of the pack. It wasn’t the norm but it was slow and steady progress towards tipping the scales of power symbolically. For a pack from their mother’s generation to have done so would have been almost unheard of.

Marco had returned with two scent cards. “For the other alphas.”

Juno was about to sniff the first one when she paused. “Is it a problem if I’m not drawn to the other pack members?”

“Oh god no, honey.” Marco waved away her concern. “Luis is bonded to a beta in my pack and I’m not. She’s like a sister to me.”

Aisha nodded sagely. “Same for me with one of my alphas.”

“Packs look very different these days. Sure, there are some still centred around an omega but more and more it’s become like the family you’ve chosen.” Layla patted her hand. “But you also never know. One of my alphas had a friend whose scent I wasn’t drawn to…until one day I was.” She coughed, going slightly pink and Marco cackled.

Feeling mollified, Juno brought Isaac’s card up to her nose.

Rum, spiced and burning, grounded by the earthy scent of leather. A clandestine midnight meeting, two glasses clinked and tipped back, a pact made.

“Woah.”

“You like it?” Marco peered at her over his glasses, eyebrows raised.

“Yes but…” Juno took another sniff. “Not in a romantic attraction way. I feel like…I’m safe with him. That he’s capable of protecting me and would do anything to do so.”

They looked pleased. “He would be your prime alpha if you joined the pack. It’s a good thing that you feel that way about him.”

Layla handed her the second card. “Mr Biceps over here.”

Sharp biting eucalyptus carried on a salty ocean breeze. A frozen morning, noses red, looking for fins on the distant horizon.

Juno smiled pensively. “He’s lovely. Deep, like there’s so many layers to him. My instincts are nowhere near as strong with him compared to Ollie’s but there could be something there.”

All three omegas were beaming at her.

“Please say you’ll reach out.”

“You must — Marco will have a fit if you don’t.”

“God, you have to invite us to the wedding!”

Juno sank back in her chair with a huff of laughter. “Yes. Yes, I will. Just tell me what I need to do next.”

“Well first you decide whether you want a church or civil ceremony…”

“I meant contacting them, not the wedding thing!”

As Aisha shooed Layla and Marco away and began to talk her through the process, Juno thought bemusedly that she had never felt so light.