Ash placed a black coffee in front of Saffron. “Since there’s no one in the store right now, drink this and calm down.”

They sat at one of the tables in the L&K cafe, which sold several baked goods, drinks, and chips. It was a popular place for high school and college students to come and chill, along with any of the comfortable, cushioned chairs dotting the store. The free Wi-Fi was a plus.

Steam wafted from the piping hot liquid into the air. Saffron took a sip and tried not to grimace. He wasn’t a fan of bitter things. Even though he had told Ash several times that he preferred sweet drinks, Ash always seemed to forget. Ash often failed to listen and loved to talk about his fun weekends at the clubs or his most recent hook-up.

Yet Ash seemed to protect his own. The two were not compatible as friends by any means. They never would’ve become acquainted by choice if they hadn’t been coworkers, but Ash said he rarely encountered other male omegas, which were rarer than a blue moon. Their shared secondary gender was few and far between.

Despite their clashing personalities, Ash and Saffron somehow made it work, though Saffron sometimes felt like Ash was trying too hard to keep the conversation going.

But Ash was also one of those few individuals who could just ‘tell’ that Saffron was an omega without confirming it. When Saffron had trusted him enough to reveal a part of his health history—that he didn’t have pheromones from cancer treatment complications—Ash had been relieved to bits.

“Oh, thank god!” Ash had exclaimed at the truth. The little detail about Saffron being sick in the past had gone right over his head. “I thought I was going crazy! My omega radar was going insane with you.”

“I don’t need to calm down. There is nothing to calm down,” Saffron interjected.

Ash scoffed. “Saffron O’Reilly, take this more seriously. That stalker was releasing so much of that nasty scent of his to make you react. I could smell that shit from here. That’s considered assault, and you should report it to Florian ASAP. I know you can’t exactly sense it, but it’s not okay to do that to someone else. Even then, he was being creepy, which warranted a good growl from you. Why didn’t you do it to make him leave? You know an omega growl can be just as powerful, if not more, than an alpha’s.”

“Because Saffy has never growled before,” a third person interjected.

It was Ginger Kamara, an alpha and Saffron’s childhood best friend ever since his treatment in Texas. Ginger’s mother had been the head nurse at the hospital during Saffron’s extended stay, and they had become close. Ginger had grown very protective of him.

Ginger was also the reason Saffron loved romance stories—she had snuck books and dramas into his hospital room for them to watch together late at night. Saffron was forever grateful that she had relocated to Chicago after high school… though it was mainly to elope with her alpha partner, Briar, whose hometown was also “The Windy City.”

She pulled a chair over from the table next to them. The storm had soaked her pants and feet, but she didn’t show any signs of caring.

“Saffy, dear, how are we feeling today with the rain? I was passing by and wanted to bring you an umbrella. You told me this morning how the wind broke yours yesterday.” Ginger handed him a foldable blue umbrella in a case.

“Oh!” Saffron was happy she had thought of him. Her workplace at the plasma donation center was out of the way, so saying she was “passing by” was a lie. “Thanks, Ginger. I was worried I would get rained o—”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ash interrupted. He was shocked. “Are we going to gloss over that? In all twenty-three years of your existence, you’ve never growled? Not even once? How is that possible? How do you tell people to fuck off when they bother you?”

“I don’t know. I jus—”

“Stop interrupting him.” Ginger glared daggers at Ash. Her eyes seemed to glow in anger for a second,and the atmosphere felt heavier. “He uses words, obviously.”

Ash ignored her alpha intimidation. He refused to take part in omega stereotypes—docile, fragile, and known as pushovers. He took shit from no one, not even from the biggest of towering alphas. Saffron admired that about him and wished he could be like that, too.

“Are you being serious?” Ash asked.

That was another thing. These two hated each other. Both were headstrong and had different opinions about how Saffron should handle situations.

“I am quite serious. Saffy is capable. I would know, I’ve been his best friend for years and helped him gain a voice that he didn’t have before I met him,” Ginger snapped.

“I never said he wasn’t capable, but you’re looking at this from an alpha’s perspective. We always have to watch our backs. Growling is one of our only defenses, and he should use it to his advantage. Sometimes words are not powerful enough to convey our fear and other emotions. And since he refuses to defend himself properly,” Ash continued, pointing to his own collar, “then maybe he should consider getting a collar to protect his nape, just in case.”

“C-collar?” Ginger squeaked. “Are you being serious now? Saffy said he doesn’t want one.”

Even Ash’s suggestion took Saffron aback. An omega wearing a collar was a very personal choice. It protected their nape and scent gland area from a forced alpha bite because once an unmarked omega was bitten, they were bonded to that alpha as mates for life and could never have another partner. It deterred other alphas from pursuing them, instinctually knowing that particular omega was claimed.

The opposite wasn’t true—an alpha could have several omega mates. Having more than one partner wasn’t common, though, unless that couple wanted a polyamorous relationship.

Omegas had to be careful. Getting marked by force was life-altering. It would require intense therapy and hormone treatments to deal with the separation side effects of a bastard alpha not being nearby to share pheromones.

Thankfully, it’s considered a serious crime. After the government passed the Omega Rights Act of 1976, punishment for force-marking was harsh.

That didn’t stop some alphas, though.

“It’s not like I don’t want a collar,” Saffron attempted to explain. “They’re just… expensive.”

Neither of them heard what he said. They talked over Saffron, which was common when they were together. Saffron wasn’t a loud person, so he let it go. As Ash and Ginger bickered back and forth, Saffron also heard the raging storm. All of these sounds overwhelmed him.

His heart sped up. THUMP. The scar was painful. THUMP, THUMP. His throat tightened from wanting to cry. THUMP. Couldn’t breathe.

Saffron stood up, not wanting to show weakness in front of the strongest people he knew. He excused himself, rushed to the single-person bathroom, and locked it.

Saffron gripped the sink so tight that his knuckles turned white. He focused on catching his breath. He looked back at the teary omega in the mirror, his shoulder-length, light brown hair tied halfway up.

An omega without a scent.