Eighteen

Kira

Several pick-up vans arrived at the Omega camp, and mean-looking guards commanded us to pack our stuff. We were a maze of hands and feet and the heat from everyone's sweaty bodies did nothing to relieve the increasing discomfort I was feeling.

As if that wasn't enough, my premenstrual cramps made me cranky. My stomach started to turn, and the truck's hard surface was hurting my body, making me feel even worse.

Mom sat next to me, looking ahead. There were over twenty other vans, each carrying at least a dozen omegas. Alpha D'Angelo must be a joker if he believed he could include the omegas in the pack and grant them the same privileges and rights as the other members. We would never be equal, and he could never, no matter how hard he tried, overthrow the system.

A small part of me relished the thought of living in the main pack. At the camp, our living conditions were worse than those of animals. But we could never be prepared for this huge shift.

Silent, I stared blankly and was