The Havenfield Meeting Room

Isaac

I curl my fingers around the binder pressed against my chest, hugging it tight.

I’m not good with uncertainty or spontaneity. And right now, I’m being forced to deal with both.

Havenfield called first thing this morning, requesting that Kofi bring both me and Swanley into the office. An admin sat us in this obviously unused office, with its white walls and empty bookshelf, then she left. No explanation at all. It’s obviously about Carys—that’s the only thing that makes sense. But why couldn’t they have mentioned it before we arrived?

My mind won’t stop racing at the possible problems.

Carys has been our sole focus for almost a year now. Kofi fell for her first, telling us all about the enchanting omega. Once he put in his claim, it took several months before we were allowed phone calls with her, and now we all adore her. If Havenfield decides to reject our claim, I’ll die.

Even though I’ve never met her in person, I know that she belongs to us. And I’ll be devastated if we can’t have her.

“Issac.” Kofi places his hand on my knee, stopping it from bouncing wildly. “It’s okay, beta. There’s no need to worry.” He smiles sweetly, flashing his perfect, white teeth.

“How can you be so calm?” I ask.

“I agree.” Swanley paces next to the table. “What the hell is taking them so long?” He’s jacked up, overflowing with nervous energy.

“Please, sit.” I frown at the red-haired alpha, trying to hide my own nerves. “You’re making me even more on edge.” I pull at the collar of my fitted pale-blue sweater. I wish I had worn something loser, but Swanley talked me into wearing it. He said it brought out the blue in my hazel eyes, but it’s too small, hugging me around the middle. I hate it.

“Swanley,” Kofi looks up at the still pacing alpha. “Sit.” He eyes the chair on the other side of him. “This room is too small for you to stomp around.”

The wooden table takes up most of the space, with a handful of bulky desk chairs dotted all around. I stare at the door on the other side of the room, wishing like hell they’d get on with it.

“This is bullshit.” Swanley plops down, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His white dress shirt pulls tight around his biceps, emphasizing his impressive muscles. He leans forward, glaring at Kofi. “ They asked us to come here, and now they’re making us wait.” His voice slips into an angry growl. “I have shit to do today.”

Kofi’s eyes flash at his sharp tone. “Calm down,” he warns in a calm but firm tone. “You’re upsetting Isaac.”

Swanley glances at me, taking in my nervous expression. I can’t blame him for not already feeling my worry. I have a weak mental bond with both of them. They both struggle to feel my emotions without concentrating. It’s fairly normal for most betas, as our bonds with our alphas aren’t as strong as it is with an omega. But right now, Kofi and Swanley are both so tense it’s actually making my head hurt.

“I’m sorry, Izzy.” Swanley lets out a long breath, obviously trying to calm himself, but he’s still tense as hell. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I hate these fucking games. Who asks for a meeting at a specific time, then makes you wait for over an hour?”

“This is a hospital,” Kofi says simply, smoothing his hand down his black silk tie. “They have patients to tend to.”

“What did they say again?” I ask about the phone call Kofi received yesterday. I’ve made him repeat it over a dozen times now.

“Just that they’d like to meet with us about our application,” Kofi gives me a warm smile. “Everything is going to be okay, beta.” He caresses my upper back. “Please, don’t be scared.” But he’s not telling me the whole truth. They didn’t want me here. Places like this never care about meeting the betas in a pack. Only alphas are assessed when claiming an omega. Apparently, my kind aren’t necessary when it comes to understanding a pack.

“Isaac,” Swanley says my name, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Come over here, Izzy.” He pats his knee. “I’ll settle us both down.” His lips quirk up into a sly smirk, and I roll my eyes. I swear he can switch from annoyed to teasing at the drop of a hat.

“That’s not helpful.” I stare at my lap, trying to navigate the swirl of emotions in my head.

“Talk to me, beta.” Kofi leans toward me, his comforting energy filling the room. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I rake my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes. “What if…” I take a steadying breath, bracing myself. “What if they’re taking her away from us?”

“They won’t do that.” Kofi squeezes my knee gently. “Rejected omegas are very hard to place with new packs. Most don’t even survive the first few months of de-mating, and those that do survive tend to have a rather large failure rate. But Carys is strong and healthy. Havenfield wants to see her placed in a good home. They won’t revoke our claim.”

“Are you sure?” I rest my chin on the edge of the binder.

“Listen to me, Isaac,” Swanley narrows his dark brown eyes. “Havenefield is salivating at the chance to give us Carys,” he says with so much confidence it's almost impossible not to believe him. “They want to stroll into next year’s shareholder meeting and brag about the rejected omega they successfully placed.” His brows lift, giving me a pointed look. “Trust me. These fuckers want a win.”

I look at Kofi, needing his confirmation.

“It’s true.” My pack alpha nods with a half-hearted sigh. “So many see rejected omegas as a lost cause, but Carys has done better than any other omega I’ve treated.” His gaze drifts to the desk in front of us. “It might have something to do with her only being claimed by one alpha instead of a whole pack,” he says as if talking to himself. His eyes narrow at a stack of papers, thinking. “It has to be the lack of scar tissue on her scenting gland.”

I give the stark office a sweeping look, trying not to let the barrage of possibilities overwhelm me. “You don’t think something has happened to her?”

“Of course not.” Kofi gives me a kind smile, but I can see the tension in his eyes. He’s not sure.

I need to collect myself. “Where’s the restroom?” I ask, setting my binder on the desk in front of me.

Kofi gives me an understanding smile. “Around the corner, down the hall, and to the left.”

Swanley moves to stand, but I put my hand up, stopping him. “I can go by myself.” I give him my best smile, but I can’t help how tight it is.

Swanley’s brown eyes pull in at the corners. He can probably sense how hopeless I feel. “Are you sure?” he asks as I edge around Kofi, squeezing his shoulders as I make my way to the door.

“I’m sure.” I smile at my alphas, before shutting the door behind me.

The air in the hallway is a good ten degrees cooler, and it smells almost sweet compared to the intense unease in the meeting room. I scrub the back of my neck, before cutting around the nearest corner and heading to the bathroom.

The bathrooms in this place are just as stark white as the rest of the place. High walls covered in smooth tile, marble floors, and brushed chrome features that scream money. Kofi once mentioned that the mating application fee was a shocking amount, but I never got the nerve to ask.

I turn the cold water on full blast, bringing handfuls of it up to my face. My eyes are hot and my cheeks are flushed. I cool myself down, then scrub my hands with the delicately perfumed soap. Sadly, this doesn’t settle my nerves the way I had hoped.

But I’m so scared.

It’s well-known that packs don’t stay together very long without an omega. Alphas are aggressive and combative in groups, and need an omega’s calming presence to keep them centered. A beta just won’t do. And while I’ve tried very hard to keep my mates happy, there’s obviously something missing in our lives. Lately, Swanley has felt more confrontational, and Kofi has been acting uncharacteristically reckless—like secretly meeting with our omega when he could be easily caught.

The only time everyone is calm is when we talk about Carys. It’s like my small pack is pieces of an unfinished puzzle, rattling around without the last piece to hold the whole thing securely together. And Carys is that piece.

She’s ours. I can feel it in my bones.

I pat my face dry with an expensive hand towel, before looking myself over in the mirror. My dark hair falls into my eyes, flopping over my ears. I should have gotten a haircut.

I tug at the middle of my pale blue sweater, hating the curve of my tummy. I suck it in, pretending it’s flat and firm.

“What are you doing?” I groan at my reflection. Frustrated and feeling a bit silly, I wipe down the wet counter, then I force myself to head back.

I turn the corner, fix my smile, then open the office door to rejoin my pack.

A thin older woman sits on the other side of the desk. Her black pantsuit is a bit big for her slight frame, sitting a little high on her shoulders, and her silver hair frames her face, accentuating her dark red lipstick. I recognize her from the last Christmas party. Ms. Kenna is Kofi’s boss—she’s the Executive Director or something like that—and her presence has me even more on edge.

Ms. Kenna looks up at me and her eyes go wide as if surprised to see me. “Is this your beta?” she asks Kofi, and he quickly nods. “You didn’t have to bring him,” she says, and my body instantly knots with intense anger and frustration.

“Isaac is just as important to my pack as Swanley is,” Kofi says firmly. “He’s not going anywhere.”

I stand awkwardly as Ms. Kenna stares back at Kofi with complete disbelief. I’m sure she’s not used to having alphas push back on her. I mean, she does have the final say in who gets an omega and who gets thrown out on their ass.

“Fine.” Ms. Kenna points to the empty chair. “Sit.” she squints at the stack of papers in front of her. “Mr. Metski.”

“Mitzski,” I whisper. I hate correcting people. It always feels rude.

“My apologies. Mr. Mitzski.” She forces a partial smile, before turning to Kofi.

I take my seat next to him, grab my binder off the desk, and place it in my lap. Swanley gives me a small nod, his eyes soft around the edges. It makes the tension in my chest lessen, and I pull in a deep breath.

“You haven’t missed anything important,” Kofi whispers as I open my binder and pull out my favorite pen.

“Shall we get started?” Ms. Kenna rests her hands on the papers. The joints on her frail fingers are large knots and the wrinkled skin along the back of her hands looks like tissue paper. “Let me get right to the point.” She looks Kofi right in the eyes, and I tense. “Are you interested in moving forward with your claim on Carys?”

“Yes,” both Kofi and Swanley answer in unison. My heart jacks up as both alphas lean forward.

“We’re all very interested in Carys,” Kofi says. “Swanley and Isaac are very excited to meet her as soon as we’re able.”

“Well,” Ms. Kenna pushes back in her chair, her bony hands clasped in her lap, “We’d like to move a little quicker than that.”

Swanley shifts, angling his shoulders forward. “Why would you?—”

Kofi holds up a hand, stopping Swanley from asking anything else. “What’s going on?” he asks Ms. Kenna. “Did something happen with Carys?”

The uneasy feeling in my gut grows, shifting into fear. Rejected omegas have so many health issues. Carys is vulnerable to so many medical complications.

“She’s refusing to eat.” There’s a hint of sadness in Ms. Kenna’s voice, but her expression remains firm. Professional.

“How long?” Kofi sits straight as a board, his big hands curling into tight fists. I stare as he presses his knuckles into the tops of his legs, trying to remain calm.

“It’s been three days.” Ms. Kenna presses her lips into a thin line, making the wrinkles around her mouth etch even deeper. “I’m sure you can understand our worry.”

“ Why isn’t she eating?” Kofi narrows his eyes. “Is it her O-levels? Is she reverting?—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Ms. Kenna interrupts, and my eyes go wide. Kofi is a very calm and patient man, but he’s still an alpha. And nothing enrages an alpha more than being interrupted. “Since her last treatment, Carys has completely shut down.”

“Shit,” Kofi bows his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What are you going to do?” Swanley scoots to the edge of his seat. He’s filled with a panicked, almost frantic energy. “Sedation? Feeding tube?”

“They can do that,” Kofi says with a heavy sigh, “but it will destroy all the progress she’s made.”

“Dr. Blackwell is right,” Ms. Kenna says with a rather annoyed lift in her voice. “We can’t sedate her or have her undergo any kind of hormone replacement therapy, as both are likely to completely derail her treatments. She’d probably have to start over at square one?—”

“Which would increase the likelihood that her de-mating will fail, and she could slip into a permanent persistent state of distress and die,” Kofi says.

Swanley nods, the movement jerky. “And the feeding tube?” He looks so tense. I wish I was sitting next to him so I could touch his arm.

“A feeding tube could be incredibly traumatic,” Ms. Kenna says. “Omegas are too delicate for that kind of intrusive care.” The older beta looks almost angry as her gaze drops to the stack of paperwork on the desk. “This is a very serious situation.”

“What caused this?” I ask.

“Well,” Ms. Kenna shifts in her seat, “Dr. Ambrose had just shared with her that he felt she wouldn’t be ready for placement for another year. We’re pretty sure?—”

“A year ?” Kofi’s voice rises, and my shoulders instinctively curl inward.

“I understand your frustration, Dr. Blackwell,” Ms. Kenna squares her shoulders. “But we have to be very careful here. Dr. Ambrose just wants to make sure her old mating is completely scrubbed. It would be very irresponsible to rush her into?—”

“I’ve been monitoring Carys's progress since the day she arrived here, Clara,” Kofi cuts in. But despite his hard expression, he speaks in an even, professional tone. “Carys no longer suffers bouts of illness or Rejected Mate Psychosis, and her hormone levels are spot on. A year is excessive.”

I sit quietly, listening to my impressive pack alpha. He’s so calm and sure as he rattles off all the medical hurdles that Carys has overcome. She really is so strong. I can’t wait to meet her in person.

“Making her wait another year is cruel,” Kofi says bitterly. “It’s no wonder her system fell into complete shock.”

“You don’t have to convince me of that,” Ms. Kenna says. “And now that Carys is forcing the issue with her hunger strike, it seems you won’t have to convince anyone else either.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “The board is overriding Dr. Ambrose’s assessment, and has decided that Carys's situation qualifies her accelerated placement.”

“How accelerated?” Kofi’s expression is intense, and our bond hums with his restrained excitement.

“We want to have her settled with your pack in a week or two.” Her dark eyes narrow at my pack alpha’s face. “Assuming all your paperwork is in order.”

We’re actually getting Carys?

This feels like a dream. A weirdly horrible yet wonderful dream.

“Wait…” I say as realization hits me. Everyone turns to me as I flip through my binder, finding the section on Havenfield’s omega acquisition policies. “I thought that claiming an omega like Carys required a prolonged dating period.” I skim my finger over the right page. “We’ve only been talking to Carys for a few months now. I mean, Swanley and I haven’t even met her in person yet. That’s not prolonged .”

“That’s not always the case.” Kofi rubs my shoulder, but I keep looking for the right passage.

“It’s right here.” I tap the paragraph. “The timeline for pursuing re-mated omega deviates from the above estimates. Prolonged exposure to a new pack is needed, including a longer courting period to prevent the likelihood of a failed mating, which could result in death for the omega.” I pause at that last sentence, letting the weight of it sit heavy in my gut.

Rushing this could kill her, but doing nothing could kill her too.

I glance at Kofi, but his sad expression doesn’t offer much comfort. “The guidelines for rejected omegas are loose at best,” he says gently.

“Unfortunately, there’s no set rule book for these kinds of situations,” Ms. Kenna says. Her tone is clipped, like a teacher repeating the same lesson for the tenth time today. “While Havenfield is very firm in our established procedures, we also understand that when it comes to rehabilitated omegas, every one of them requires something a bit different.” She presses her thin lips into a thin line before letting out a long sigh. “And rejected omegas are even more challenging when it comes to navigating their medical issues.” She looks at Kofi, her expression hard. “You do understand that omegas like her don’t have their heats, and that she might never have one ever again?”

“I’m aware,” Kofi says simply, and Swanley narrows his dark brown eyes. We’re all already aware of this, and none of it matters. Omegas don’t need to produce slick to be good mates.

“And you understand that if she never has a heat, it greatly reduces her chances for pregnancy?” Ms. Kenna looks right at Swanley, giving him an almost challenging glare.

I immediately stare at my lap, struggling to handle the growing tension in the air.

“We know,” Swanley growls and I feel Kofi shift next to me.

“And another thing,” Ms. Kenna’s voice rises as if she’s preparing to deliver the final blow. “Because of her medical condition, you’ll have to mark her outside of her heat.” She pauses, letting the weight of that statement linger in the air.

I hate this. It’s best to mark an omega during their heat. It’s less painful. Less risky. But if we want Carys, we don’t really have a choice.

“There is a chance that Carys's body might reject each and every one of you.” Ms. Kenna’s dark eyes land on Swanley, before cutting back to Kofi. “While she insists that she is experiencing zero pain and has no connection left with her old mate, we can really only hope she’s telling the truth.” A heavy sigh makes the older beta’s chest fall. “She might truly struggle while in your care.”

I stare at the binder in my lap, deeply conflicted. I want Carys. I want her so badly it hurts, but all of this feels so rushed. She needs time to heal from her old mating before taking on a new pack.

I mean, what if she’s not really healed and Kofi mates her? His simple bite could destroy her system and possibly even kill her.

“We are prepared to take Carys the way she is,” Kofi says firmly.

“Alright then.” Ms. Kenna places her hand on the stack of papers in front of her. “Shall we go over your application?”