Camp Lake Omega

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Camp Lake Omega Page 10

by Penelope Peters


  Not Reba. “Yeah, welcome to enlightenment. And fuck you, by the way, I’m not the kind of person who’s going to knowingly seduce a friend’s paramour.”

  “He’s not my paramour.”

  Reba scoffed. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not like we were exclusive,” I defended myself. “He’s free to sleep with whomever he wants.”

  She gave me a hard look. “You… can’t actually believe that, can you?”

  “We’d discussed it,” I said stiffly.

  Reba snorted. “Yeah, see, here’s the thing: we might think betas are all loosey goosey and free love and all that rot – but honestly? They’re just like us, they want to find a mate and stick with ‘em to the end.”

  But…

  “Jim’s not a beta,” I said.

  Reba stared at me.

  “He’s an inert omega,” I said.

  Reba kept staring, her eyes growing wider and wider.

  “You… you thought Jim was a beta?”

  Reba began to shake her head. “You… you thought you could tell an omega that it was okay if he slept around?”

  “Um….”

  “Oh my God, you are the dumbest pile of rocks in the entire known universe,” said Reba, still staring.

  “Not every omega wants to settle down, you know.”

  “Maybe not, but you still don’t go accusing them of sleeping around on—” Reba stopped, right in the middle of her sentence, as a thoughtful, confused look crossed her face.

  “I was mad, okay?”

  “Shut up for a sec,” said Reba quickly. “You… you said you weren’t exclusive. You said you’d talked about it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But then you’re mad because you thought he was actually sleeping with me?”

  “And that he lied about it!”

  “That day, back in the first week,” said Reba, slowly. “I was talking about Tracy and Jim. I didn’t even know his name.”

  “What about it?” But my heart was already beating a bit harder, as if my subconscious remembered the conversation before my head did.

  “You knew his name,” said Reba, realization dawning. “And I kept talking about my plans, and you… you growled.”

  “Involuntary response,” I snapped. “We weren’t even having sex then.”

  Reba began to grin. “But you’d met!”

  “That was only the second time!” I protested.

  “Oh my God!” exclaimed Reba. She pointed at me. “You’re in love with him!”

  “What? No!”

  “You are! You practically threw me through the wall when you thought I was having sex with him, like you’re a possessive alpha on the prowl.”

  “Shut up,” I hissed. “It’s not funny.”

  “Are you kidding, this is hysterical. Zachary Ito, in love with an omega at last.” Reba began to laugh. “Oh my god. I totally lost that bet. I figured you’d be a virgin for another ten years at least.”

  I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Reba….”

  The phone rang.

  Any other day, I would have ignored it – but I had the feeling Reba was going to start giving me more shit about sleeping with an omega. Any phone call would have been preferable to hearing that.

  “Alpha-By-the-Lake,” I snapped into the phone, still glaring at Reba.

  “Zach, it’s Bob,” said Bob McPhail. He sounded worried. “We’ve got a situation over here.”

  I frowned. “Estrus?”

  “No,” said Bob. “One of my camp counselors is missing, along with one of the canoes. I was hoping you’d seen him.”

  Every single cell of blood in my body froze – and every single muscle screamed in protest.

  “Who?”

  Bob answered. He didn’t have to. Somehow, I already knew.

  “Jim. It’s Jim. He’s disappeared.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jim

  It’s my personal belief that no one actually knows how to tie a shoe. We learn, yeah – but then we forget, because it becomes rote. Try teaching a kid how to tie a shoe. It’s almost impossible, because chances are you’ve forgotten how to do it yourself. You just put on your shoes, bend down, and… a minute later, it’s tied. You don’t even think about it anymore.

  I don’t remember how I ended up in the middle of the lake after the fight with Zachary. One minute, I was walking out of his cabin, having said something truly fabulous to his face – which I also don’t remember – and the next minute, I was in the middle of the lake, still trying not to hyperventilate. All those nights, going to visit Zach – I guess sneaking out and pushing off in my canoe had just become muscle memory.

  Probably a good thing, under the circumstances. Because the minute I realized where I was, the adrenaline that had surely gotten me there ran out. I couldn’t have paddled another inch, even if there’d been a rowboat of horny young alphas behind me. I laid the paddle on my knees and flopped down into the canoe, and just let myself float for a bit while I stared up at the stars.

  I had lied to Zachary. That was the worst part. I had lied about that night and the cabin full of sick omega kids, because I didn’t want to say anything about Reba. And it turned out – he already knew about Reba, or at least a little bit about Reba, so I’d been protecting her – and all my fellow counselors – for nothing. They’d never been at risk of exposure anyway.

  I wasn’t sure why he thought I was sleeping with Reba, though. Just the thought of it made me a little bit sick to my stomach. I tried to breathe nice and even, mentally preparing myself to roll over and throw up in the water, if need be. My skin felt clammy and warm, and now that I was lying down, I couldn’t feel the wind over the lake anymore, which didn’t help.

  The nausea didn’t fade. It just – sort of morphed. I was warm, my skin felt tingly, and my stomach didn’t feel queasy anymore. It felt empty.

  No, that wasn’t my stomach, not exactly. I felt empty and loose, and I began to squirm in the bottom of the canoe. Except when my skin rubbed up against my clothes, it didn’t hurt or itch. It felt pretty good.

  When the oar slipped and brushed up against my groin, I was hit with such a wave of pleasure that I gasped. I was already reaching to do it again when I realized what I was doing.

  “Oh, God,” I said aloud. It sounded a bit like a whimper.

  Which made even more sense – because I knew exactly what was happening to me.

  Zachary kissing me, nibbling at my lips, clawing at my clothes.

  Scratching at my skin.

  Fingernails against my neck.

  I reached up and felt the scratch on the side of my neck – it stung and I winced, but I could feel the drops of blood already forming a scab.

  Zachary had scratched my neck, just where a bond bite was meant to be.

  An alpha had scratched my skin – and drawn blood.

  I was going into estrus.

  Omegas don’t normally go into estrus without warning – well, the first one, estrarche, usually comes as something of a surprise, because you won’t have learned your body’s warning signs yet. But after two or three goes, you get the idea pretty quick. I usually know about a day in advance – I’ll get super hungry, and I’ll always feel warm, no matter what the temperature, and let’s just say that I get a hell of a lot of bathroom reading done during that time.

  I’d been regular about my heats since I was eighteen. Every four months, without fail, almost to the day. I wasn’t due to have my next heat until the very last week of camp. In fact, that was part of the plan: as soon as I felt one coming on, my parents were going to come and bring me home, and that’d be it for my stint as a camp counselor, since by the time my estrus was over, camp would be done, too.

  I took a few more deep breaths and tried to gauge the situation. Whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t a normal estrus, since I hadn’t had a single warning sign all day. Which meant it had to be a flash heat – they happened from time to time to ev
eryone, but especially to omegas whose bonds had broken for whatever reason. I’d never had one, but I couldn’t think of what else I was feeling. They felt kind of the same as regular estrus, but you couldn’t get pregnant, and most of the time, bonding during a flash heat wouldn’t work either because the pheromones weren’t right. If it was a flash heat, it’d only last about twenty-four hours, tops, and probably a lot less, especially if I had help.

  I thought briefly of Zach – but no. There was no way in hell I was going to go crawling back to him, not when he believed I’d slept with Reba.

  Nope, I’d just have to ride it out myself. It’d be fine. Might even be over by morning, before the campers woke…

  Shit.

  I couldn’t go back to the camp. They’d know, as soon as I stepped foot onto shore, that I was in a flash heat – and I wasn’t sure, but Bob would probably send me straight home.

  There was no way I was going home, halfway through the summer. Screw that.

  Zach was out. Camp Lake Omega was out.

  And I couldn’t float on the water all night.

  The rocking of the canoe got a little choppier. I sat up, wincing and gasping a little as pressure shifted on my ass. The canoe was a lot closer to shore now, which explained the increased motion. I could see the little tributary trickling into the lake – and that answered my problem. I could pull the canoe up the stream and hide it in the woods so that neither camp could see it. Yeah, they’d be worried with a missing canoe – but hopefully I wouldn’t be very long, and I could rejoin them later in the day. I’d have to come up with a good story – but that’d be a hell of a lot easier than showing up in the throes of estrus.

  Slowly, I began to paddle to the stream. It was a lot tougher than I thought it’d be. My arms wouldn’t stop shaking and it probably took twice as long as it normally would, but finally I made it to the stream. I was only able to navigate about ten feet in, and then I had to drag the canoe out of the water and into the tree line so it wouldn’t be seen. If I’d thought paddling was hard – this was even worse. I wasn’t sure I could do it at all without punching a hole in the bottom of the canoe.

  Then again – if I did, that’d provide me the excuse I’d need for the following day.

  Once the canoe was safely hidden, I headed into the woods, using my flashlight to light the way. I was about halfway between both camps. I was wary of straying too far from the lake, just in case of wild animals. But I also didn’t want to stay too close to the canoe, in case anyone spotted it.

  I could have made better time… but my legs were getting wobbly, and I was exhausted and hot and desperately wanted to lie down for a little while. The nausea was gone – but I wasn’t sure if it would come back.

  After about twenty minutes of hiking, I found the treasure chest. An actual, factual treasure chest – filled with granola bars of every type and shape, a few blankets and extra pairs of socks, and a bunch of Gatorades in every flavor. It could have been put there specifically for omegas who found themselves in sudden flash heats in the middle of the woods.

  I gave up walking. I didn’t put much thought into why there was a treasure chest full of snacks in the middle of the forest. I was just happy I’d found it.

  I settled in, taking off all my clothes and putting them a little ways away, so they wouldn’t end up reeking like estrus when it was time to go home. Then I wrapped myself in one of the blankets and munched on one of the granola bars before I went to sleep.

  It’d be okay. I had food, I had drink, and I had patience. I could wait it out.

  It’d be fine. Totally fine.

  Just as long as nobody found me. Or this fabulous treasure box full of goodies in the woods.

  Zachary

  Jim was missing.

  He’d never made it back to the camp the night before.

  Reba was still in my office when I hung up the phone. I could tell she’d heard enough of my end of the conversation to know what was up.

  “Zach…” All soft and worried. I couldn’t even turn around to look at her.

  I didn’t answer. All I could think of was Jim… in the middle of the lake… paddling away as fast as he could go… slipping out of the canoe, sinking down to the bottom of the lake.

  In that damn stupid Leonardo DiCaprio position from the Titanic movie, too.

  I turned abruptly. “I have to find him. This is my fault.”

  Reba sucked in a breath. “Holy shit,” she whispered under her breath, but I was already out the door and running to the boat dock. I wasn’t as good a paddler as Jim was, but I knew how to start where the trail was still warm.

  Reba came tearing after me. “Zach – Zach.”

  Reba wasn’t just stronger than me – she was faster, too. She caught up with me just as I reached the boat dock, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. I tried to shake her off.

  “I don’t have time for this – he doesn’t have time, he could be hurt, he could be lost, he could be de—” I choked on the word.

  Reba didn’t let go. “Admit it. I’ll let go of you when you admit it.”

  “I admitted it already,” I snapped at her. “It’s my fault, okay? I yelled at him. I accused him of sleeping with you. I was wrong.”

  “You’re still wrong!” Reba shouted back. “Admit it.”

  “ADMIT WHAT?!?”

  Another voice shouted across the camp, coming straight out of the woods: “MR. ZACHARY!”

  The little girl came out of nowhere, running pell-mell across the campsite, followed by four or five other of the youngest campers. They had scratches on their knees and faces, probably from tree limbs and rocks, but that wasn’t what concerned me.

  What concerned me was the smell they brought with them.

  Sweet and cloying. Thick in my throat. It ought to have made me cough.

  Instead, when they ran through the camp, every single alpha older than fourteen or so turned to look at them, their eyes momentarily glazing over – uncertain why they couldn’t look away.

  The little girl – Violet, that was her name – ran straight to me. I caught her at arm’s length. This close, there was no mistake what I was smelling.

  Omega.

  “In the woods,” gasped Violet. “Cammy – said to – run for – you. Cammy said – not to – stop.”

  I couldn’t answer. I opened my mouth – and just breathed it in.

  Jim.

  “Where?” said Reba immediately.

  Violet looked around at the gathering crowd of curiously confused alphas. “Why is everyone following us?”

  “Because you did a very brave thing,” Reba told her as she carefully lifted my arms away from Violet. “And because you and your cabin-mates really, really need a bath in some tomato juice.”

  “He wasn’t a skunk,” exclaimed Violet. “He was just naked.”

  I might have growled. At least, Violet gave me a nearly nervous look.

  “You’ll understand when you’re older, dear,” Reba assured her. “Where did you leave Cammy and the naked man?”

  “The second treasure chest,” said Violet.

  I was on my feet – I knew exactly where that chest was. It would take me about forty minutes, at a run, to reach it.

  Cammy was still there – alone with Jim, in estrus.

  Cammy, the youngest of my counselors. Who was in love with Molly. Alone with an omega in estrus… I didn’t think much of her chances of staying strong.

  “I have to go!” I said, pushing through the crowd of kids.

  “Zach!” Reba shouted, already following me. “I’m faster than you are, I can get there quicker—”

  “You have to stay here, with the kids,” I told her, but she wouldn’t stop following me.

  “Someone else can give them tomato baths. If Cammy’s alone with Jim, and he’s really in estrus, you won’t be able to help either of them by yourself. Zach. Zach!”

  I didn’t listen. I just kept moving, right up to when Reba darted in front of me and held her gr
ound.

  “Think, Zach. Get your stupid alpha head out of your ass and realize that you can’t do this alone!”

  I tried to side-step her, but I couldn’t get past her.

  Reba kept talking – as if there was a chance that words would stop me from getting to Jim. “You’ll need someone to distract Cammy.”

  I grunted. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew she was probably right… but the pull to get to Jim was too strong. I needed to get to him.

  I needed him.

  And I didn’t have time to stop and explain it to anyone – let alone Reba, who’d never shown interest in a relationship longer than ten minutes in her life.

  “For fuck’s sake, Zach! I know you’re good, but are you really prepared to fight over an omega in heat?”

  It burst out of me.

  “He’s my omega, Reba.”

  Reba stopped moving. I couldn’t stop breathing hard now. My entire body was shaking.

  “He’s mine,” I said, quieter now. “I have to go to him.”

  “Okay,” said Reba. “I’m coming with you.”

  I shook my head. “You—”

  She held up her hand. “I’m coming with you, because I’m your friend. Got it?”

  She wasn’t going to budge.

  “Fine,” I said, and we went.

  It was the longest forty-minute trek that I’ve ever done. Every single step of it, I had to imagine what I’d find at the end. The images were fueled by what we knew – which wasn’t much.

  Jim, naked, head thrown back against a pillow of moss. I knew what he looked like when he was in the throes of passion. I could imagine, all too easily, what he’d look like in the middle of estrus, flushed cheeks and sweat beading on his brow. His damp hair curling at the nape of his neck, his neck arching up as he gasped for air, a name caught in his throat….

  Whose name would he be saying?

  And the only person there would be Cammy. Young, inexperienced, and in love with Molly. So convinced that she’d never have the strength to resist an omega in heat that she was willing to let me lock her up if there was even a hint that Molly might be in estrus, despite the lake between them. Her defenses would have been down, because who the hell thought they’d run into a naked, desperate omega in the woods?

 

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