Omega’s Project

TOMMY ..It was already a great way to start my morning, waking up with a sharp ache in my ass that let me know I have done something unspeakable last night. Something like bottoming for the very first time in my very respectable Alpha life. Worse, I couldn't even remember the bastard.And then this.“Mr. Rivers.” The doctor’s eyes were still glued to the scan result in his hands. “The result shows you’re…developing omega traits.”I stared at him. Surely that was a punchline.My brows knitted forming the sharpest V in my entire twenty-seven years of living.“Developing omega parts?” I repeated, my voice flatter than the pulse of a dead man. “What does that even mean?”Like he was regretting the life choices that brought him here—maybe it was I who did, the doctor shifted. “There’s a small formation just above your gall bladder. It looks like a uterus—it’s not fully formed. Also, your pheromone readings lack the density found even in a recessive Alpha…”For a solid five seconds, I d

TOMMY..I thought it wasn’t going to happen. But that’s when the horror began. My body stirred anyway, heat pooling low, and my cock hardened. Not for an Omega, but for an Alpha. For Gerard.Pulling off his gloves, Gerard smeared his palm with gel and clasped his fist over my dick. The contrasting warmth of his palm and the coldness of the gel jolted straight to my head, and my heart thudded so loud it echoed in my skull. I told myself it was probably heart disease, or something and not the thrill of being touched by him. Oh, lord let it just be heart disease.Gerard stroked me slowly at first, a smug expression etched on his face. I should have jumped out of the bed, but answers, not pleasure, pinned me down. Yet, the line between them blurred.Although he said this was clinical, nothing about the glint in his eyes was professional. Nothing clinical about the way his hand slid up and down my erection, his thumb dragging over my tip enough to cause my breath to stutter.His face wa

Tommy..Three days had flashed by, and the pills sat in my drawer. Every morning had become a ritual: pacing around my room, staring at it, wondering if I should swallow it and let whatever Gerard planned consume me.This morning was no different…until a clatter from the kitchen broke through my thoughts.Stalking downstairs, I headed toward the kitchen.My eyes fell on Liam, shirtless, apron tied around his waist, flipping pancakes like a newly wedded wife.My spine locked. Instinctively, I released the smallest trace of pheromones just enough to run a quick test. I dipped my chin, sniffing. I couldn’t tell Liam about my state. At least, not until I understood what’s really happening to me.My scent wasn’t significantly different, no omega sweetness, at least.My lungs loosened. “I don’t remember hiring a male chef.” I slid onto a stool beside the kitchen island. Liam stacked the pancakes on a plate and drizzled chocolates before placing them in front of me. “Enjoy.” He slid a

GERARD..The door creaked open, and without thinking, I turned to cover Tommy with my body.Then I saw who it was. “Raph.” My shoulders dropped. “It’s just you.”Tommy’s pheromones hit him. “He’s in rut?”“Yeah.” I wrapped my fingers around Tommy’s wrist. “I need to get him out of here.”Silence—heavy and dense—dragged as Raph’s gaze darted to Tommy, then back to me. His pupils flared like I had betrayed him.“Why you?” Raph asked, his voice tightening. “You’re not that close to him. He’s not your friend…”My chest tightened. He was right. We weren't close, hadn’t been for ten years. But I couldn’t leave Tommy like this. Even the thought made my skin tug tight.“I’ll call Liam to take him home,” Raph said.My jaw ticked at the name. The one Tommy always fussed about. My skin tugged tighter.“He’s safer with me.” My lips pressed tight. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Safe with me. A man he hadn’t seen in ten years.“Fine, I’ll take him home, after all he’s my fiancé,” Raph said, steppi

TOMMY..Thousands of thoughts buzzed through my head, and I couldn’t pick what to do.Tell the truth? Lie? Let the earth delete me?The truth. Say the truth, Tommy and it shall set you free. But that's never the case with my father. It never set me free, it caged me down with his disappointment.My throat burned, but I spoke either way. “I was going through my rut, and I passed out since I wasn’t feeling too well…Gerard helped me.”My father’s eyes didn’t move, but his jaw did that warning signal before he shattered something.“So,” he said softly—too soft. “You left your engagement party. With your fiancé’s friend. During your rut.”When he put it like that, it sounded like something you’d find in a Telemundo finale.Mason stepped forward with another tablet in his hand. “I’ve tracked the source of the leak, sir,” he said. “The journalist's name—”“I don’t care about his name.” His voice sliced through the tension. “Find him. Break his fingers. Make sure he never types anything aga