Omega Bound
They look harmless, but they aren't.
This might be the last time I take them.
My fingers close around the bottle, the plastic crackles faintly in my grip, and I stare at my reflection. The person looking at me doesn't look like an alpha.
He looks like a fraud, someone that's pretending to be what he’s not, it's tip the pills into my hands, swallowing them dry.
A familiar cold numbness spreads through my veins, like a door slamming shut somewhere deep inside my chest.
My Omega retreats again, buried, hidden, where it can’t ruin everything.