Forbidden: Part One (Luna & Sol Omegaverse, #1)

by Emilia Emerson

To anyone who has had to claw their way out of patriarchy and purity culture back to the home of their body. I hope your days are filled with unashamed pleasure.

Absolutely nothing was going my way today. It wasn’t as if that was anything new, but hiding between a dirty brick wall and a dumpster was a special level of hell.

A breeze stirred and wafted a warm cinnamon roll scent my way. My inner omega automatically relaxed at the yummy-smelling alphas and I clenched my jaw in irritation. Biology was a bitch—these alphas were not safe, no matter how tempting they smelled. But I had to admit, they did smell unusually good.

Westin and I were the two unbonded omegas in the group, and I felt a level of solidarity with her. She was twenty-three, just like me, and though we had never talked about using suppressants, I was sure she was on them. She was petite and striking—her long hair almost silver as she put it in a ponytail. It was hard for me to imagine that someone that looked like her could still be unbonded.

I walked back over to Poppy and gave her a strained smile, feeling hideous beside her petite frame and luxury workout clothes. Poppy was too sweet to judge me, but I still tugged on my thrifted black tank top, wishing it could magically make my fat rolls disappear. Not for the first time, I wished I had a different body, a different life.

No, what I want is to curl up in bed with piles of the softest blankets in the world.

I was so fucking exhausted of being scared and jumpy all the time. Omegas needed touch to survive, but I could hardly tolerate even the slightest physical contact anymore.

One of the few things I knew about Anna was her desire to be a mother. She told us she wanted to learn self-defense so she could better protect herself and any omega daughters she might have one day.

My too-fat body, the source of so much of my shame and suffering, also helped disguise me. No one expected a fat omega. But if anyone gave me more than a brief glance, it would become obvious what I was.

My lip trembled. I wasn’t even sure if it was from fear or exhaustion, or both. I just wanted to live a normal life where no one noticed me.

I was supposed to meet the black market supplier two days ago for my suppressants, but they didn’t show. Sam arranged for me to meet a different supplier last night, but they didn’t show either. This was the first time I was without suppressants since turning eighteen... with the exception of the two years I spent at the Designation Academy. I had been too starved and stressed to go into heat then.

But now, every second without my suppressants felt like I was hurtling towards a dangerous edge, facing a fall I wasn’t sure I’d survive.

Sam and I grew up surrounded by the worst examples of alphas. My childhood fantasies of joining a pack of strong, handsome, loving alphas had been effectively stomped on and set on fire by my upbringing.

“Yeah, okay, it felt like shit. No alphas are good enough to deserve you because you deserve the fucking world. I just want you to be safe and happy.”

I sunk down into the couch cushions. I’d been putting off the inevitable for the past five years. While part of me had always known this day would come, I had hoped the world would change before it did—the Designation Laws would be repealed, omegas would be allowed access to suppressants legally, and we wouldn’t be forced to join with alphas when blood tests revealed our first heats were imminent.

The unfairness of everything threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of the horrible community I grew up in, my childhood friends whose alphas had forbidden them from spending time with anyone outside the pack, and the news stories of bonded omegas being found dead in the bay and their packs never investigated. I wanted to do something with all my fear and anger, but instead, I curled up on the couch and lay there frozen until the first rays of sunlight crept through the window hours later.

I still felt sick when thinking about our old community. The suffering my packmates and I experienced there had brought us even closer, until Cam and Ben were more brothers to me than my own siblings. After we left our community, the trauma of what we went through cemented our bond. But now I felt like I was losing them.

We had all been on edge for the past year. Cam was surlier than usual, Ben was moping around the house, and I felt myself withdrawing from them and hiding out in my office. Lately, all we talked about was work. I missed my best friends and felt useless as fuck that I didn’t know what to do to fix us.

I forced myself out of the car. As I headed towards the entrance, I saw a woman in black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt walk in ahead of me. I glanced over at her as I maneuvered into the store. I had planned to track down the candy as quickly as possible, but instead, I found myself following the woman down the produce aisle as if pulled by a magnet.

She was short for a beta, and her wavy brown hair cascaded down her back as she wove her way through the narrow aisles, leaning heavily on her cart. I hadn’t seen her face yet, and I longed to close the distance between us, spin her around, and grip her chin with my hand. I would tilt her face until our eyes met—I was sure she would have the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen—and then I would memorize every inch of her before gripping her round, plump ass and pulling her in even closer, pressing her body into mine.

I stopped abruptly as I realized what a fucking c...

I would never get used to the anxious and sometimes even terrified glances people gave me just because I was an alpha.

I had lost sight of her. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to get a grip. I couldn’t remember the last time I had checked someone out or felt even the slightest hint of attraction, yet here I was, practically stalking a woman through the store.

My heart pounded, and my inner alpha urged me to go after her. Am I having a stro...

Turning the corner to the freezer aisle, I saw her again. I was about to force myself to walk in the other direction when I noticed her eyes were closed, and she was barely remaining upright.

I walked towards her with measured steps, inhaling sharply as I got my first glimpse of her face. She was fucking beautiful. Her hair perfectly framed her round face, and I saw she had the cutest smattering of freckles. I wished I could see her eyes, but they were closed as she slumped over the cart. I frowned at how pale she was.

Her eyes fluttered open. They were bright green, and I was instantly mesmerized. An explosion couldn’t convince me to look away from her.

This time I couldn’t hold in my growl. Was this pimply-ass pathetic beta daring to insult the angel in my arms?

Fuck, was she going into heat? Where were her alphas? Because if she doesn’t have any, I will volunteer as tribute.

Oh wow, what a relief that not all alphas will hold my ancient age of twenty-three against me. Bitch.

The alpha guided my legs into the stirrups and roughly pushed up the paper gown, leaving me exposed. Just think about the beach, standing in the water as the waves wash over you. The beach visualization was not fucking cutting it as the doctor shoved his dry fingers up my vagina.

I heard him explain to the nurse that he was measuring how tight I was, something that would be included in the report given to prospective packs. Omegas were forbidden to have sex or masturbate—we had to stay pure for our alphas so they could have the pleasure of ripping us open with their massive cocks.

Somehow, I didn’t think the questionnaire would cover my preferences: In your ideal pack, how many alphas would you bond with? Zero. What are your favorite hobbies? My illegal self-defense class, where I learn how to take down alphas. How many children would you like to have? None.

Even before the Designation Laws passed, I knew that finding a compatible pack would be challenging. I enjoyed my independence and the hustle and bustle of the city, whereas many omegas preferred quiet pack homes in the country.

Most alphas and omegas were biologically wired to want to have as many children as possible, but I had never wanted kids. And then, of course, there was my weight, which, as my mother said, was “disgusting and unnatural.” Even if I could find a compatible pack, they would likely never want someone who looked like me.

My mother grabbed my arm, my skin stinging under her hold. “It’s about time you proved to the world you’re not completely defective. Twenty-three and no pack—it’s an embarrassment,” she hissed.

And there it was. All she cared about was how my actions reflected on her. I’d spent my whole life hearing all the ways I was a disappointment.

Getting out of my parents’ pack house saved my life, but it was a massive scandal and my m...

“Your late heat has put scrutiny on all of us. I don’t know what I did to deserve such an ungrateful daughter,” she hissed. “Catherine’s daughter found her pack at nineteen and she’s already pregnant. Christine’s daughter has six alphas and is already on her second baby. I don’t know why my daughter wants to punish me like this!”

My omega cowered at the thought of being alone with them, the memories of what happened that day flooding my mind—the smell of antiseptic, the cruel laughter, their stares. I dug my fingernails into my palms so hard I thought they might draw blood, the pain the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. I couldn’t let my mind go back to that place. I refused to show weakness in front of them.

Their hatred towards me was a weight on my chest. A desperate longing filled me, and I wished I’d gotten the chance to know my biological father, the alpha my mother ran away with at seventeen.

I couldn’t imagine my critical, image-obsessed mother rebelling, but I used to fantasize as a child about what my life would be like if my dad hadn’t died. Anything would have been better than being raised by my hateful pack fathers actively fighting to strip omegas of our rights.

Even though I’d known the assistant director was an omega, I still felt my chest fill with shock and... pride? Amirah Raven had been the first-ever omega director of what was then called the Omega Center, a place created to support omegas in all aspects of life.

In the rare circumstance an omega didn’t have a pack for her heat, the government would select a group of alphas to stand in. I would rather die than allow that to happen.

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t okay with any of this, but I also knew Amirah had presented me with the best option I could hope for. So I nodded in agreement and thanked her.

See, this is why no one could ever love you or find you desirable. A nasty voice that sounded suspiciously like my mother rang out in my head. I took a deep breath and repeated my mantras to myself. My body is a good body. My body doesn’t exist for the sole purpose of being thin.

Fictional men would never hurt me or think I’m too fat. Who needs real men?

“Don’t get your hopes up. This won’t work out.” The words drummed in my brain to the time of my furious steps as I sprinted through the woods. After a while, the words somehow changed. “Maybe she could be the one,” pounded through my head as I pushed myself to run faster. So much for not getting my hopes up. I am so fucked.

“They look like clones,” I said, giving Clementine an unimpressed look. “Oh, just wait; it gets worse once you hear about them,” she responded with a smirk. “Personality? None. Favorite activity? Lording their power over everyone and kissing Glen Jacoby’s ass. Likelihood they can bring a woman to orgasm? Absolutely zero.”

Omegas always have the final say on the pack, no matter what your parents want. And you have a much better pack option. I might even call them dreamy.” I pulled away from her and shot her a skeptical look. “I know, I know,” she said. “It’s hard to believe. But this is Pack Ashwood.”